Trauma has many definitions. A common one is the experience of a life-threatening or highly stressful situation that can affect the person psychologically, emotionally, or physically. Many people who have been subjected to this type of experience can and will naturally recover over time; however, some still find themselves struggling with the traumatic responses long after the event has occurred. The consequences can be glaring and translate into obvious life-interfering behaviors, such as insomnia, panic attacks, emotional dysregulation, anger issues, or deliberate avoidance of certain people, places, and things. At other times, the repercussions of trauma can be of a more insidious nature, manifesting themselves in a more subtle way that still impedes the person’s ability to heal and cultivate wellness.
Today, experts tend to agree on a number of telltale signs and symptoms which allow for the identification of trauma survivors and the diagnosis of trauma-related disorders, and many subtypes have been identified through research and clinical practice, such as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and Acute Stress Disorder (ASD). It is important to note, however, that although there are common symptoms, individual differences vary, and no two people will ever respond to a devastating life event in the same manner. The subject of trauma is so vast and full of imbrications that writing a single piece about it would feel rushed. Moreover, there already is an abundance of resources available that tackle the risk factors, symptoms, subtypes, and treatments related to trauma. This blog post is the first of a series addressing the theme of behaviors and beliefs that are consequential to trauma exposure. The things we do, say, think, or feel that we may not know have been caused by this painful experience. The things that can come in the way of our daily activities, interactions, and productivity. The things that subtly shaped our perceptions of ourselves and the world around us and festered in the shadows of denial.
If you are a survivor of trauma yourself or know someone who is, or are simply interested in learning more about the subject, I welcome you and thank you, dear reader. Today, you and I travel the meanders of sexual violence and the traces it leaves in the lives of some survivors. This may be no easy endeavor; I know it’s not easy for me to channel the experiences recounted, and I am gratefully doing it in the hope that it will keep the conversation open.
Firstly, let’s discuss semantics. What is meant by sexual violence? The World Health Organization defines it as “Any sexual act, attempt to obtain a sexual act, or other act directed against a person’s sexuality using coercion, by any person regardless of their relationship to the victim, in any setting.” The term encompasses crimes like rape, sexual assault, and sexual abuse. Anyone can be a victim of sexual violence, regardless of their age, gender, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. It is seldom motivated by sexual attraction and rather consists of a destructive power dynamic. It involves taking someone’s power and agency away, denying them the right to say no, and negating their sovereignty over their own bodies. The trauma endured can often leave the person with a sense of bafflement, and to many it felt impossible to ever process such a violation of their physical and psychological integrity.
Below is a series of testimonies from survivors of sexual violence, telling us about their aftermath.
“I was never the most self-assured or assertive person, but I started to struggle more and more with the implementation of boundaries in life, with family, with friends. It took me a really long time to realize that I had progressively lost the ability to speak up for myself, ask for the things I needed, or deny requests that made me uncomfortable. It’s almost as if “no” lost its usefulness because it wasn’t enough to protect me. I became unable to say no.”
“Sex and masturbation used to be enjoyable; now it feels like I’m disconnected. It’s like someone switched my nerve endings off, I feel the touch, but it doesn’t translate into anything pleasant. I don’t feel pleasure.”
“I’m always rehashing the past or considering the future. And when I don’t, I function on autopilot. I don’t know how to be. Simply sitting by myself, with no distraction to lull my mind, or task to accomplish, feels insurmountable. An outing with friends can be clouded by thoughts about assignments I have to submit soon; watching an episode from a series is juxtaposed with the memory of a fight I had with my partner. Don’t even get me started on concentration. It reached the point where I’m more comfortable multitasking than fully engaging in one activity. I can’t live in the moment.”
“Over the years, I realized I have internalized the belief that I don’t belong to myself. I have objectified myself and engaged in more sexual encounters than I can keep track of. It’s like some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy, like I am deliberately keeping myself stuck in a cycle of shame, and I keep engaging in it without ever feeling fully satisfied. My sex life is out of control.”
“I used to be very tactile with the people close to me. Physical touch was one of the ways I could express affection and connect with others. Now, most of the time, I can’t stand the thought of being touched. Something as simple as a pat on the back or someone touching my arm to catch my attention sends alarm signals all across my body, especially if I am unprepared for it. I feel threatened by other people’s touch.”
“I don’t think I was ever able to have a romantic relationship where I would feel safe enough to communicate my needs and have them validated by my partner. I don’t feel like I deserve to be heard or appreciated, and I always try to go above and beyond to keep them satisfied with me. I have had a pattern of seeking out a very specific type of people; the ones who make me relentlessly work for their approval, and don’t seem to accept me, no matter how much I alter myself to suit their demands. I don’t feel deserving of a healthy and loving romantic relationship.”
“Sometimes, the most innocuous little things will remind me of the incident and send me spiraling. It can be a song, a smell, or someone whose appearance reminds me of them at first sight. I have the hardest time holding on to reality and remembering that it’s not happening to me all over again. Everything has the potential of becoming a trigger.”
“I have become particularly sensitive to displays of aggression, and I cower like a frightened child anytime I am confronted with or witnessing it in my day-to-day life, even if it’s not directed at me. I feel incapable of defending myself.”
These testimonies provide a glimpse into the complex and diverse experiences that can result from such traumatic events. It is important to recognize that these examples are unique to each individual and may vary widely. While some survivors may exhibit obvious symptoms, others may struggle with more subtle consequences that silently affect their lives. Understanding the broad spectrum of responses to sexual violence emphasizes the need for compassion and open-mindedness when supporting survivors. It reminds us that no single narrative can capture the entirety of somebody’s journey, and that healing is a deeply personal process.
If you have been subjected to sexual violence, know that you are not alone. It takes great strength to navigate the aftermath of trauma, and seeking help is a courageous step towards healing.
I thank you again for joining me on this journey of learning and compassion. Together, let us continue the conversation, break the stigma, and contribute to a world where survivors are no longer defined solely by their traumatic experiences, but by their resilience, growth, and ability to reclaim their lives.
