You see, I’m a survivor. A survivor of sexual violence. It has taken me a long time to finally come to terms with this and to heal by telling my truth. A truth that I was fed to believe would destroy the very thing I love most, my family, if I said anything about it. Not knowing that by not saying anything, I was destroying the most important person along the way, myself.
I had lost myself in those years where I was playing survivor without even knowing it. I was on autopilot for so long, ignoring my deepest desire for the comfort and safety of others. In doing so, I was too busy focusing on other people and their problems not accepting my own and denying myself the liberty of freedom.
You see, at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, I know it a number on people, myself included. It forced me to face my reality of being afraid of the truth. Facing my own personal truths have been difficult and unrelenting. It is exhausting unpacking your truth so that you can shift your own perspective of victim to survivor to healing. I think as someone who has been a victim to a horrendous experience and haunting experience, that we will always, always feel like the world can wrong us at any time, not realizing the damage we cause a long the way.
When we accept our reality and our experiences, we begin to heal by telling our stories and teaching others why it is so important to listen to other people’s truths. There’s a connection there that can’t be missed, and one that can heal when we allow ourselves and others to just be human beings. When we connect with each other on a humanitarian level, we see that we are not alone in our pain and suffering - though it will look different from everyone. The journey ahead of us does not need to be lonely nor do we need to travel it alone.
When I finally accepted my truth of not knowing how to care for myself, and not believing in myself, I found that I had so much healing to do. My inner child had been neglected for so long that the pain I was carrying caused a deep and large wound in my heart. When I finally stopped to listen to it, it gave me the strength to finally share my truth with two of the most important people in my life, my parents. As Asian children, especially Hmong children, we often are taught to sweep any signs of domestic violence under the rug. In my case, I swept it under the rug and kept on doing so until the mound of dirt could no long be hidden because it showed up in vicarious ways in my marriage. When I had finally shared with my parents what happened to me, a weight and burden I was carrying was lifted off my chest and I could finally embrace me like I wanted to do so long for so long. I changed my perspective from being hurt to how do I move forward with my truth.
I may be painted as a bad person in some peoples eyes, but I understand something that no one else in my family does right now. My drive and thirst for justice and righteousness is not wrong and I tend to see situations as they are, not as others perceive them to be. The truth is a hard pill to swallow, one that many people avoid swallowing for as long as they can until they are eaten up from the inside. I know my truth, and my strength has been revealed by it. My character has been revealed by my truth and I no longer live in the past of my pain, but live to see the future of the great things to come. I know that I will struggle, but I also know that my pain will no longer hold me back from being the person I am meant to be.
I am a caring, gentle, sensitive, compassionate and empathetic individual. One who really cares about the people I love. And that, I will never let anyone steal from me again. Hate me, dislike me all you want, try and isolate me all you want, but just know, that I carry your truth. And that alone, should scare you more than the lies and harm you want to keep on spreading.
No relationship is perfect, and all relationships has its ups and downs. At the end of the day, if it is not your relationship, then you have no say. You can try to influence it as much as you want, but know this, I know your truth. I don’t wish you any bad, but instead, I wish you peace. Like really. I wish you peach and freedom from the burdens you carry. If you ask me, will I ever let you back into my life, no. Never. The truth is, you can’t go where I’m going. I don’t have a big enough heart for you. And I don’t want you around when you rather protect this perpetrator instead of me, the victim.
One day when the truth comes out, and the spilled milk is finally found, you will be sorry for all the things you did not do, and for all the things you did do. When that day comes, it is not up to me to judge you, but it is up to me to love you still. So I forgive you.