There will be cursing today. Run away if that bothers you. I don’t mind.
Do you worry what others think about you? Do you sit at your computer screen, paralyzed to type what you really want to say for fear of what your mom, husband, brother, friend, or best friend from second grade might say? Maybe you have shared your writing and been burned, relationships severed, friendships or family relationships strained or even ended. Or maybe those around you are so threatened by the possibility that you will share your abuse story that they actually threaten you.
[share ]Others people’s problems are other people’s problems. Don’t take that shit personally.[/share] #WriteWhatScaresYou
Fuck that shit. As Cheryl Strayed says, you need to write like a motherfucker. What does she mean by that? Does she mean write with papers everywhere, cartoon balls of trash flying across the room, keys tapping to the beat of Copacabana? (Let’s hope not. We’ll never get that song out of our heads.)
No. She means that you need to own it. Own your shit. Write your shit. Ignore the voices or others, get in your head, your heart, grab your soul and write the shit out of that shit. This resonates with me because that’s how I wrote Broken Places (my latest release) and Broken Pieces. Let’s deconstruct.
CENSORSHIP ITSELF
Why are you censoring yourself? If I came up to you and stood over your shoulder, read your latest paragraph, and told you, “You can’t say that!” what would you say to me? Because if you said that to me, I’d tell you to go the hell. Not only because this is my book, but because who are you to tell me what to write? Isn’t this my book? My work? My story? My name?
Does their name go on that book cover? Are they the ones spending countless hours writing and rewriting the work? No. So fuck em.
Yet, people attempt to tell us daily what we should or shouldn’t write about, right? It amazes me, to be honest, that others who don’t know our story, or who think they know our story intimately but can’t possibly because they don’t live in our heads and haven’t felt our emotions or lived our lives, want to censor us for what we may or may not say. What makes them so scared?
Scenario #1:
I shared a Brene Brown quote the other day about having courage and vulnerability when sharing your story, and someone replied that when she’d done so, people had chastised her, she’d lost good friends and even family members because her truth upset them too much, so she’s done. She’s ‘taking a break from truth.’
That saddens me deeply. I’m not judging her — she’s had enough of that. What saddens me is that she is allowing others to make that decision for her, letting them dictate what is okay or not okay to share, because they are embarrassed that she shared her abuse story: now others know and can’t deal, which really is just another form of shaming her for something she didn’t do.
THE LOOP OF SHAME
Someone abuses us, we don’t tell because we are ashamed. When (or if) we do tell, we are shamed because it’s embarrassing and shameful to us — what child (in many of these cases) wants to say that an adult used our body for physical pleasure? It’s sick and twisted, and yet here we are, alone, forced to wrap our young, innocent minds around these confusing acts, with nobody to talk to, nobody to help us understand that we did nothing wrong.
Fast forward to adulthood: we choose to write about it as a form of whatever: catharsis, healing, therapy, or simply sharing so others will know they are not alone, only to have our loved ones shame us for sharing, or further chastise us for going public in some way. [share ]Shaming a survivor is one of the most selfish acts there is.[/share]
We survived the abuse — dealing with your discomfort isn’t our issue. It’s yours. If you can’t get over yourself, oh well.
But survivors don’t have to accept that. We have a basic human right to speech. You have a right to tell your story.
Scenario #2
One fellow, T, shared his story in a public Facebook post, and with his permission, I’m sharing his story here with you today. T’s sister immediately chimed in to scold him for ruining the family name, embarrassing her, accuse him of lying, of creating current drama when all that happened in the past, and on and on. I complimented T on his courage and she came after me, warning me to keep my mouth shut, to stay out of their family business, etc.
What I love about the survivor community is that we support each other, and we understand that many people don’t understand that we have a right to tell our stories. We don’t do it for pity or attention (more on that in a moment), but as a way to heal and bond with others who have also survived, and to help educate non-survivors what it means to live the lives we do, to deal with this shit on the daily.
REAL OR IMAGINED RISK
Sure, there’s risk involved in opening up those dusty doors of honesty. I’m not immune to the coughs and sputters of family and friends, even strangers who may or may not judge me for my words, or who place blame on me for their behavior. I’m been called a liar, an opportunist, one person even went so far last week as to accuse me of ‘prostituting myself for profit and attention,’ and I’m told often to just move on (as if I haven’t).
I find it interesting that people equate sharing my story with victimhood or ‘being stuck in the past,’ when that’s not the case at all, yet they are determined to tell me that yes, that must be so.
Truth is, those are not my issues.
Scenario #3
I wrote a guest post recently as part of my Broken Places blog tour, and the host shared it, as hosts kindly do. Someone on Twitter replied that basically I was ‘playing the victim’ by sharing my story, compelling people to feel sorry for me. Fortunately, people supported me without me saying a word (I don’t respond to those types of comments). If you know me at all, you know that I am anything but a victim…but, these kinds of comments aren’t uncommon.
I wasn’t offended. If anything, I want to thank this person for reinforcing that I’m on the right path to help remove the stigma of child sexual abuse, or any abuse, survivors have to face. This person is a light for me — further helping me to realize that I still have a lot of work to do. In a strange way, I find comfort knowing that my advocacy work is not done, and I have many more people to reach with my story.
[share ]Ignorance needs an audience so that sexual abuse survivors have one, too. [/share]
Please join me any Tuesday 6pm PST/9pm EST for #SexAbuseChat with my cohost Bobbi Parish, also a survivor and certified family therapist who specializes in treating childhood sexual abuse survivors. We recommend using Tweetchat to participate — log in using your Twitter account, enter the hashtag once, and it does it for you for the remainder of the chat. Easy.
We are also taking submissions for the next #NoMoreShame Anthology Project (published by the Gravity Imprint I’m directing for Booktrope). Check out Stigma Fighters, a fabulous group that removes the stigma from all mental illness, created by Sarah Fader. If you have a story to tell, submit to them directly by visiting their website here.
If you’d like to sign up for my free sexual abuse resource list, click here.
Broken Places and Broken Pieces are currently #10 and #11 on Amazon’s Best Sellers Paid list for Best Women’s Poetry! and both are temporarily priced at only $4.99. This is how I share my story, through poetry and prose. I’m currently working on Broken People, due by Christmas.
Veronica Sicoe says
May 1, 2015 at 10:50 amGreat post.
The right to voice one’s opinions, and the freedom that the internet provides everyone to do exactly that, often generates the illusion that they also have a right to openly judge others and “straighten them up.” But the right to express an opinion is not a right to impose that opinion, and the right to free speech is not the right to shut someone else up.
When it comes to art, censorship is akin to mutilation and no such intrusion is to be permitted by anyone.
Rachel Thompson says
May 6, 2015 at 1:34 amThank you, Veronica. Love your comments! I believe that as well. Sadly, people do love to censor and thrust their opinions at us, or judge us for revealing their horrible behaviors. We, as survivors, can’t take that personally, which can admittedly be very difficult at times. I’m not immune.
And yet, we have to set boundaries and that’s been the key for me. I block people (here, on social media, etc) if they come at me, not for disagreeing (which I encourage — if it’s polite discourse), but for blatant bullying or trolling. I did so tonight, in fact, from a guy who left passive/aggressive comments putting me down. I don’t play games and I won’t tolerate negativity, so that noise had to go. I help people who want help. Period.
In books, we only have so much control. People can leave horrible reviews because they don’t like us for whatever reason, and that’s something we just have to deal with, ignore, etc., and keep doing our thing. Focus on the good stuff! That’s what counts.
Trace Lara Hentz says
May 3, 2015 at 10:16 amI read this and knew it was meant for me to read. I had spent last week journaling and writing about my biological family and the sexual abuse hidden there, discovered when I went into reunion with them. Even if it makes me sick to write it, I know I have to. It’s healing to realize that I was thrown into this sick secret and sadly because I know the truth, I am not in reunion anymore. I was also a victim myself of sexual abuse by my adoptive father and wrote a memoir mentioning it as it is integral to my journey. No one should silence us and your writing makes that point perfectly.
Rachel Thompson says
May 6, 2015 at 1:27 amThank you, Trace and brava for your courage! It’s never easy to face the demons, but it’s an important part of our healing. I’ve found that finding my own voice has been incredibly freeing, and if people have issue with it, that’s not my problem, because I did nothing wrong.
It’s not an easy path by any means, but it’s a journey I’ve taken with eyes wide open. I applaud yours as well. Sending you hugs.
Suz says
May 3, 2015 at 8:41 pmThanks , four years I have considered this , my art my writing this is a constant inner battle. A will it hurt anyone? Will they see it? will they know? Ugh ya
Healing slowly..
Rachel Thompson says
May 6, 2015 at 1:25 amI understand, Suz. It took me a very long time to open myself up. In fact, my first two books are primarily humor (satire). Eventually, though, it just wasn’t the best fit for me. Yes, I do see the humor in life’s situations — I think we must do that to continue on with dealing with life’s difficulties. But going deep is part of healing and there’s much to be learned from that vulnerability.
Plus, writing and not showing it to anyone is a start. Nothing is stopping you from doing that. Nobody has to see it. Just start!
Martin Ricky says
May 3, 2015 at 8:44 pmVery nice post and inspiring to new bloggers who are afraid to let it all out. While there are certainly many blogs that must use censorship for business reasons, the personal bloggers are definitely holding themselves back if they keep their silence so to speak. Writing is awesome for the purpose of fully expressing your ideas and thoughts and when you don’t express all of them you aren’t being true to yourself. I hope other bloggers stumble upon your advice and choose to let it all hang out!
Rachel Thompson says
May 6, 2015 at 1:22 amThank you for commenting, Martin. I’ve always enjoyed the freedom of blogging — it’s my home, and I can say what I want. If people don’t like it, they don’t have to come over and read it, right? That’s my attitude, anyway.
I do open my blog up to many guest bloggers who share posts that they might otherwise not be able to share on their own sites and I’m grateful they’ve found a home here to do that. Honesty is important in writing, particularly nonfiction. I advise many writers to ignore the ‘what will people think’ bullshit and just go for it because that’s where the good stuff is.
Lloyd Lofthouse says
May 4, 2015 at 6:15 pmThank you. I think I needed this reminder to write what I want to write and not worry about what others think. for instance, my latest book is on a book blog tour this May and into early June and one of the tour hosts backed out and said the book was too graphic. I’ve had other readers complain about the graphic violence and/or sex in my work, and now there’s this voice whispering to me to lighten up with the graphic sex and violence.
After reading this post, I’m going to ignore that voice. If gritty and graphic is what I enjoy reading and writing, then it will be gritty and graphic. LOL.
Rachel Thompson says
May 6, 2015 at 2:03 amHi Lloyd! Honored to see you on my blog.
Hey, I hear you. Write what you love, and leave the haters in the dust. There will always be critics, right? But truth is, there will always be readers, too. We find readers, and they find us. It sounds easy and maybe even trite, but I don’t mean it to be. As an author, and you know this, when a reader loves our work, they search for us, and usually become a lifelong fan. It’s our job to keep giving them what they love, yet in a way that continues to please both us and them.
When we write our passion, it shows. Sending hugs.
Valerie Tanswell says
May 6, 2015 at 11:19 pmExcellent! Really empowers me. I am still hesitating on blog ideas when I think of if my mom, who is actually very loving and supportive in general, read it and somehow got her feelings hurt. Same with my sister. So even though I’m “rah rah rah” reading this, I recognize in myself a bit of holding back. It’s a journey, isn’t it! Thanks for sharing this.
Rachel Thompson says
May 10, 2015 at 3:11 pmHi Valerie — here’s what I advise my clients in my ‘Write What Scares You’ workshop: just write it. Nobody is looking. Writet as if nobody will ever, ever read it. Delete it when you’re done IF you want, but I bet you won’t want to.
See, here’s what happens: by giving you permission to write your story, I (or anyone) allow you to let go. You have that power within yourself, you’re just not there yet. By writing it all out — and I mean, the ugly cry writing, you take ownership. And that becomes something precious, something you won’t want to let go of.
So I grant you permission. Go, write, cry the ugly cry, write the ugly write.
Elaine Mansfield says
May 10, 2015 at 1:13 pmThanks for this excellent post. So helpful. I’m grateful I didn’t suffer childhood abuse, but the self-censoring issue also comes up with grief and writing about loss. If we’re lucky, we get a year to grieve our child or our partner. After my husband’s death, I was immediately advised to move on (to quote you: as though I haven’t moved on). Death is a downer. Don’t talk about it. Don’t think about it. Definitely don’t write about it. Do you plan to be a professional widow forever? I saw how socially isolated my mother became because she followed the cultural rules after my dad died when she was 44. She censored her tears, her story, and herself for grieving.
Rachel Thompson says
May 10, 2015 at 3:24 pmThank you Elaine and first off, so sorry for your loss. Each of us grieves in such individual ways. People, well-meaning at best, busybodies at worst, all seem to want to weigh in on what’s best for the ones left behind.
When I lost an ex-lover to suicide a few years ago, my family decided I wasn’t to grieve because we hadn’t been together in twenty years and I was better off. So, by me being sad and writing about it was worrisome to them, because I must have been ‘idealizing him’ in some way, when in reality I was remembering good times. Isn’t that what people do when loved ones die? But that wasn’t ‘acceptable.’
I made my own rules and ultimately, that’s something we all have a RIGHT to do. For writers, we grieve by writing.
Laurel says
May 13, 2015 at 9:54 amHell yes, there will be cursing! As I read this, a fire just lit under my ass…and I screamed, “What the fuck are you doing to yourself”? As my rant emerges, I’m gonna go try on this “write like a motherfucker” thing. Thanks for posting and pointing out self censorship. Shit, I’m fucking pissed at what I’ve let the “everybody’s” do to me, my writing, my goals….
Deb says
September 3, 2015 at 6:44 pmGreat post, Rachel.
While I don’t have anything like childhood sexual abuse in my past, I’ve been called on the carpet and shamed because of believing in something that my (former) church told me was unbiblical. I believe in and have had experiences with ghosts, and I study, watch TV shows, and–yes–search the Bible trying to find answers, and a lot of my struggle with this comes out in my fiction. One of the reasons I write under a pen name was to try to keep prying noses from knowing that I was writing about this forbidden topic. Am I proud of that? No. Do I feel like I have to do it? Unfortunately, yes. At least for now.
Anne Stormont says
September 4, 2015 at 7:24 amMore power to you, Rachel. Nobody should apologise for speaking their truth. And equally we should be slow to judge others – at least until we’ve walked a mile in their shoes.
Your post reminds me of an old quote – ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing’. Edmund Burke (18th century Irish statesman) In other words sometimes we have a duty (to ourselves and others) to speak up.
All the best to you.
Cathleen Townsend says
September 7, 2015 at 12:13 pmHi, Rachel. I’ve been struggling with this issue in my writing, but not for the reasons you mention here.
I retold Hansel and Gretel and set it in the Thirties. Physical abuse is usually part-and-parcel with abandonment, so I included it in my tale.
My intended audience is really abuse survivors. Anyone else who likes can read the thing (it goes on for three books and is really about finding a way back to health). But my cardinal rule was that I would do nothing to the story to make it inauthentic to an abuse survivor.
I have one scene where I show the physical abuse in all its ugliness, rather than in passing. I received feedback from a well-known content editor who advised me to make it more vivid, more visceral. But I’m really uncertain if that’s wise. If you were never there, I’m uncertain a written description can really convey the shame of being beaten. Of being a victim with no way out. And more importantly, whether making it more vivid will make it a trigger for my intended audience. They were there, in some form. A gentle reminder is more than enough to bring back the pain.
It’s a different form of self-censorship than the one you’re describing, but possibly a valid one. I haven’t published yet, and I know you have, so I’d be very interested in your take on this. Thanks.
meg says
September 13, 2015 at 8:00 amThanks for the encouragement. I shared your article from a repost on HuffPost and tracked back to your page here. I censor myself all of the time, even with this comment and in all matters of conversation, not just abuse. I’m certain that it will be several reads of this very post and a multitude of personal coaching sessions, before I can actually say the things you are saying with no concern for the other involved parties of my story/stories. Maybe someday.
Rachel Thompson says
September 13, 2015 at 10:49 amHI Meg! And thanks for the efforts to find me and comment. You rock!
Here’s what I suggest to the authors I coach (and I know it works because it’s how I used it on myself to write my two memoirs): write as if nobody will see it, or, as Lorrie Moore suggests, “Write something you’d never show your mother or father.” It’s VERY freeing. Remove that pressure that anyone will see, ever. Right now, take off that weight, that heavy burden, and go put it in the closet. I’ll wait.
*makes a coffee*
Okay, good you’re back. Now that the monkey is off your back, go write 500 words that nobody will ever, ever see. Once you’re done that, come on back over and let’s chat. 🙂
My Inner Chick says
December 30, 2015 at 4:02 pm***Isn’t this my book? My work? My story? My name?***
YESSSSSSS. Censoring is SIN & I don’t want to read that bullshit!
Annie Lamott said, “I write as if everybody is already dead.” Love that!
And I love this post! x