You don’t have to tell your story if you don’t want to. But if the words feel like poison inside you, spit them out. You deserve to feel at ease within your body.

Before I get to the question, there’s something I want to touch on that I hope can become a common practice: getting people’s *consent* before opening up to them about our pain. Trauma can complicate things and there may be times when we can’t stop the words from coming out, but for those times when we are able to, it’s important to check in with someone before having discussions with them about serious subject matter. We never know what someone might be going through in their lives, or how our story might trigger them, or how they simply may not be in the right place that day to listen and hold space. Not only does this help us to not negatively impact their wellbeing, but it’s a safety measure for ourselves as well; opening up and talking about our trauma requires making ourselves vulnerable and if we don’t receive the support we need and deserve through that process, it can be retraumatizing. It’s a good practice to ask someone, “Are you in the right mental space to hear this right now?” and to be clear about the type of support you are hoping to receive before talking about your experiences.

Regarding the question posted here, what happened when you first told someone your story? Why did you decide to talk about it? Who did you tell? How did they respond and how did you feel? Please comment below if you are comfortable contributing to the conversation.

Around the three year mark of my relationship with David, my struggles with trust became too much to deal with on my own so I decided to talk to some friends about it. After a photo shoot one day I spoke to the make up team I worked with about my situation. My intention was to get insight on how to trust again after being betrayed, but I ended up providing further details about my experiences with LO, in order to give them context. That was the first time I ever told anyone my story.

The feeling of finally getting such heart rending feelings off my chest came with a sense of relief I hadn’t expected. I had no idea how much I’d been needing to speak it all out loud. Not only did my colleagues listen to me, but each of them then responded with similar stories of their own. I felt further relieved to know I wasn’t the only one who had been in this type of relationship, but it was also jarring to get a sense of how common it was and how no one really seemed to be speaking about it. Why had so many of us gone through this? And if it was so rampant why weren’t we educated about it in school? Why had there been nothing in place to prepare us for this?

In this moment a seed was planted which would eventually grow into ReclaimYourVoice.

I’d love to say that after he got arrested, everything was okay. That he finally left me alone, and that I didn’t have to deal with him anymore. But even from jail he continued to contact me. I told him to stop calling me but he tried to make me feel guilty for turning my back on him while he was locked up.

One day he called me and said he needed me to write a job letter for him for court, stating that he worked for my company so that it would seem like he had a legitimate occupation. I still felt afraid of him, and I didn’t know what he would do if I didn’t help him. Regardless, I told him that I didn’t know if I felt comfortable writing the letter. He began cussing at me, so I hung up on him. He called back and when I didn’t answer I received a furious voicemail from him saying, “Yo, answer the phone.” I kept it as a reminder of how he would speak to me, in case I ever felt too dangerous an amount of compassion for him.

I phoned a lawyer I knew and told him the story of what had happened, how he’d treated me during our time together and that he was in jail now, asking me to write him a job letter. I asked him for his advice because I didn’t know what I should do and I didn’t know how writing a job letter for him, which would involve me lying to the courts and saying that he worked for me, would affect me or my company.

My lawyer friend kept his response simple. “Tell me one thing,” he said. “Why would you do this for him?”

I couldn’t think of an answer.

So I didn’t write the letter.

This wasn’t about me vengefully leaving him to rot in jail. It was about me no longer making his problems my problems and no longer allowing him to bully me into doing things for him.

I was slowly reclaiming my power.

Question: What is a word that no longer describes you?

Abuse and healing are complex journeys that can continually affect how we see ourselves. Whether your answer is a “negative” or a “positive” one, I invite you to share your truth in the comments below. #ReclaimYourVoice

Goof morning sunshine! We had another video planned for today but the latest Pussy Riot trumps all. Thoughts?

randomsexyimages:

BEAUTY - IS THIS NOT SAFE BY TUMBLR STANDARDS?

FIRST AMENDMENT! SPEAK OUT!!!!