Not long ago, I lost a dear friend, Deanna Jo. When I first learned of her passing, I was in shock, and in some ways, I still am. Whenever her face appears in my Facebook feed, grief squeezes my heart. Right after her passing, I said she was one of the best people I’d ever met. I feel that even more now than I did then. When I first began to tell my story, she was one of a handful of people who I felt truly believed me. She sat with me through so many Zoom calls. Sometimes we laughed at how crazy it all was, and other times she held space for me to cry. I always felt supported and never judged. We both left The United Pentecostal Church, but we ended up in very different places. I’m sure it will not surprise you that I’m wary of some Christians. I was never wary of Deanna. She kept her faith but also kept her humanity. She showed me love and acceptance, and I will forever be grateful for that.
As I stand on the edge of publishing my book, I’m looking back with gratitude. If I hadn’t been met with so much support early on, I would’ve never even attempted to write a book. I know I’ve said this a million times, writing a book is hard, much harder than you ever expect it to be. My memoir has challenged me to face trauma I wasn’t even fully aware of before I started writing. It has been an educational journey, but more so, it has been a healing journey. Knowing I have people in my corner who believe me and believe in me has kept me going through the hard days. I have no idea how my book will be received, but I do know that no matter what happens, my friends will be there for me.
Deanna Jo was special, and I’m so glad I carry a piece of her in my heart. When the book launches, I will be thinking of her. When the fall decor hits the stores, I will miss our excited messages and photo exchanges. When some UPC person says something unhinged to me, I will want to run and talk it over with her. I’m sad we lost her but so grateful I counted her as my friend while she was here.
I have been away from this blog for a little bit. Truth be told I think I needed to take a break from thinking about it all for a while. I have been working hard on political activism all spring and summer, pouring all of my energy into making the world a better place. I really try to keep politics out of this blog because I do not want to alienate any survivors who might find help here. That being said I am also devoted to honesty and telling my story from that place and current events definitely have affected that.
Art Heals
All of my social media is awash in Kavanaugh coverage. Because of the volunteer work that I do within my community, I am on social media a lot. I connect with others online about actions, events, and the news. When I’m away from it for even one day I feel like when I return I have all of these fires to put out and folks to support. This summer has required me to give all the emotional support I can both to those I love and to myself. I count myself lucky to have such an amazing partner who makes sure that I eat, sleep, and smile as much as possible. It helps to know that he is beside me every step of the way. He also keeps tabs on my abuser which is very comforting to me. Knowing that Steve Dahl loves Madison and visits often has made my home feel unsafe.
My Sweetheart
As I have observed everything going on with Kavanaugh I hear echoes of things that have been said to me regarding my abuse. It weighs heavy on my chest like a large boulder that I cannot lift off. Some days rage threatens every moment and every breath I take, other days I have to try desperately to keep the tears from flowing because I know that if they start I will not be able to turn them off. Then there are the days when I sit and stare into space, those days are the worst. I feel immobilized, frozen, like prey trying not to be detected by a world that feels unsafe to me.
I have heard people say they do not understand why Dr. Ford did not report when everything happened to her all of those years ago. I cannot say that reporting would have helped. Often when someone is caught not much happens to them and the accuser pays a very heavy price if she is even believed at all. What I hear those in power saying is, we believe this happened to her but we do not care. That was my experience. No one ever said they did not believe me, they just did not care. They still do not care. What they care about is protecting their male ally. They care about male authority and the sacredness of their organization. They don’t care about me and they never did.
Age 11
I hear some floating the idea that maybe she is just mistaken. It was really some other guy who just looks like Kavanaugh. I’m here to say that is unlikely. I remember my trauma very well, in fact, I remember it better than almost anything in my life. That is how trauma works. I remember what I was wearing, what he was wearing, where we were, what it smelled like, and what music was playing in the background. I might not be able to tell you the date but I know what season it was and what grade I was in. C-PTSD will ensure that you never ever forget.
The survivor knows that when she comes forward she is about to stand trial. There is always a price to be paid when you are a truth teller. Dr. Ford has paid and will continue to pay a heavy price for coming forward with her truth, for trying to do the right thing. When I started writing this blog last winter I braced myself for the backlash and it came like a storm into my life. I was accused of trying to ruin a good man’s life. They said he has led a clean good life since taking my childhood away. Apparently, the crimes committed against me mean nothing because he has been a good guy ever since. Remember these men rarely offend only once. Some questioned whether I even attended the church at the age I claimed all of this happened. All they need to do to figure that out is to look at their Sunday School, School, and Baptism records. The worst part is who came at me. Men mostly, many who have never met me, and some who knew me throughout childhood. Some of them wanting to protect the church and worst many who wanted to protect their friend. They have tried to shift the blame to me and my parents. They are happy for anyone to bear the blame as long it isn’t pastor Grant or Steve Dahl. They have been full of advice for me about how I should forgive for my own sake, take it to Jesus, and get on with my life.
Friends and supporters
Friends and supporters
The silver lining to this storm is women so many women and a few men. By telling my story I have opened the door and now I have so many allies. I have been telling my story since it happened but when I brought it completely out into the sunlight women came from all over to give me love, support, and even better they stood beside me and confronted my abuser. I hope that Dr. Ford sees all of the women protesting, holding vigils, sending her postcards, and sending her love and support. I believe her and I’m hoping my silver lining can be hers as well.
