Survivor Stories (pt. 1)

TW: Sexual violence

Every survivor has their own story, yet not every survivor feels heard. For a multitude of reasons, survivors fear speaking out. And even if they do speak out, that doesn’t mean someone will listen… or believe them. 

From the start of my work with PAVE, I emphasized my desire to highlight survivor stories. I desired to create a space for survivors to share their voices, one that perseveres even after my time at PAVE. 

The pieces below were submitted by survivors, some requesting to remain anonymous. Thank you to these survivors for your strength and vulnerability. We hear you. We believe you. We support you.

Compiled by Jessica Katz

I can’t watch The Office S1 E3 anymore by anonymous

i hate that my boundaries of beauty

and femininity

and self-perception

somehow always ends up centering men

as if i can’t even claim one thing untouched

i wish i didn’t view myself through their eyes

their shallow, narrow gaze

like a grasp that won’t let go

no matter how many times i ask

[redacted] i didn’t want

and hours laying there on his** chest,

paralyzed after he kept pushing back at my no

i cry on the drive home and question if it was me

i must have been asking for it

after all, what did i expect?? really

i kept it secret for years

just one of many

like being told that he** wanted to choke me out

in second-period history

or that he** wanted to fuck the shit out of me

to some weeknd song

before he even knew my name

i often tell myself that others have it worse

diminishing the way he** destroyed things

my relationship with men

with my body

with any form of intimacy

with my mental health

i thought this was girlhood

i convinced myself of it

and sometimes in a sad roundabout way

i worry that it truly is a defining factor

for so many of us

boys are boys

and as a girl, you can’t f*cking win

you can play into their stereotypes,

their notions, and their fantasies

or can you reject them

the ending is always the same somehow

they always get what they want

their vocabulary lacking “no”

and as much as it hurts, if it all is my fault

then i can make sure it doesn’t happen again

my fault i walk home alone

my fault i took the drink

my fault i let him say those things to me

my fault i thought netflix meant tv

if it is my fault, maybe i can gain control

and sometimes i think that

i hate myself so much,

it feels like their empty words can fill me up

as if the pain they cause

somehow feels comforting and natural

predictable in a way

still, i long for an apology.

one i will never get

some say i am a masochist

while others say i’m just another 21-year-old girl

or maybe i am a “cunt,” if he’s** mad at me

and i can’t help but wonder

if they all mean the same thing to men

*I want to acknowledge that as a white, cisgender woman, my experiences are merely the beginning of what womanhood entails. The intersections of race and class further produce trauma and pain.

**denotes multiple different male-identifying individuals throughout this poem

Untitled by anonymous

I didn’t think it would happen a second time. I thought if I was careful, self-protective, more aware, I’d be safe. But I laid there, frozen, almost corpse-like, as he violated me. It wasn’t until after that I recognized what had occurred, like a spirit re-entering a body, gasping for the air I had lost.

It’s difficult to process, even more when you try to ignore it. To move forward. Because, well, your brain may try to move forward, but your body still feels… off.

That’s the beautiful thing about the body. It feels with you. Your mind and body are connected in a whimsical dance of life. When you think back to your favorite childhood memory, your body also feels at ease. And vice versa. When you prick your finger, it hurts, but you feel that discomfort, that ick, mentally.

That is the mind-body connection. Which is why when I feel most tense, anxious, overwhelmed, I focus my energy on my body—What part of my body feels good? What part feels most at ease? What part feels tense, and how can we relax more?

So although I’d just like to move forward, the memories bring about discomfort in my body. A feeling I cannot ignore. I feel tense. I feel angry. I clench my jaws and grab at my skin… every time I remember. My body has been violated. My mind lost control.

But let’s recenter.

As I loosen my jaw, slouch a little, take deeper breaths, I connect more to my body. I feel with her in order to heal with her. With each movement, I remind myself of the present moment. I am safe, I am loved, I am cared for.

I must grasp at anything that makes me feel a little less dark… even the faintest sources of light. With the friends and family who show me unconditional love, I am whole. At this moment, I hold them close to my heart and feel the joy they bring me.