You're So Brave
“Oh, I see you’ve stopped coloring your hair; the gray is coming in. My mother is doing that. You’re SOOOOOOOO brave,” she said with complete sincerity and a hint of wonderment in her wide and expressive eyes.
“Thank you. I think?” is how I responded when the client sprung that chestnut on me as the morning opener in my first session of the work day. We laughed together as the client who is half my age, clumsily back pedaled her remarks.
Letting my roots grow out isn’t exactly how I would define bravery for myself. The process and look is more annoying than anything. But I believe it was meant to be a compliment nonetheless. And who would turn that down?
Perhaps, your definition of bravery is also different. How any individual defines and musters bravery to survive, change, cope or grow is completely subjective.
Sometimes bravery is quick to arrive and easily accessible when we need it most. Sometimes bravery needs to be nurtured so it’s accessible when we need it. Sometimes bravery is learned in the moment when faced with something threatening or unjust and we feel fear and outrage. And then like many other traits, some people are just born with it.
The amusing earlier in session exchange actually triggered a memory for me and my time counseling an incredibly brave 14 year-old assault survivor many years ago when I was working at a community agency. In collaboration with the agency’s legal advocacy team, this client drafted testimony in support of Senate Bill in support of an act relative to sexual assault and stalking restraining orders.
The hope of many public policy advocates and survivors of such crime would be that this Bill would include protections and provisions for adolescent survivors of sexual assault, and prevent students from being harrased by a perpetrator on school property.
I, with the help of legal advocates, presented this client with the idea of writing her story to share with and submit to city and state representatives in support of this Bill. She initially said no because she said she was scared, but she wanted the option to to think about it because she said she also wanted to be brave.
From there, during sessions, the client began bravely writing about a day in the life as a survivor who attends the same school, sits in the same classroom and shares the same hallways with the student who assaulted her.
The struggle begins each morning, as soon as her/his eyes open after a night of fitful sleep. Sleep disturbances such as insomnia, nightmares, physical flashbacks, night sweats and a racing heart and mind are all common reactions to trauma. A lack of focus, ruminating and being preoccupied by agonizing thoughts of the assault are common reactions to being exposed to ongoing harassment.
Each morning, of every day, a survivor is faced with the onerous task of having “to pull it together and get under control.” It becomes hard to get out of bed, taking care of personal hygiene, engaging with family and getting organized for the day at school. These simple and routine tasks that the average student might find thoughtless and typically completed on autopilot, are tricky to navigate as a survivor. Oftentimes there is a lengthy self-talk script crafted and ritualized to overcome: lethargy, depressed mood, lack of interest in activities and hobbies that historically brought joy and pleasure. The script also addresses a lack of motivation but a pressured expediency to get out the door to school. As a result, survivors are often tardy or absent from school causing unwanted attention by school administration, taunting treatment by the perpetrator and her/his peers, or ridicule and mockery from other classmates.
The time spent in the morning commute on a bus, train or on foot is used to create and solidify the perfect facade in order to survive another day and protect the emotional self. The facade is a complex, imaginary shield of armor a survivor will use to protect and insulate themselves, emotionally and sometimes physically from unwanted attention or behaviors. There is an inherent vulnerability as a result of assault and a crack in the soul that needs protection.
The shield is used to deflect judgment from others; a way for a survivor to maintain the appearance that everything is just fine, just ok, or good. Being fine, ok or good is made up of emotional dismissals, false bravado, denial, harsh and unrealistic expectations placed on self and polished with a smile as if to convey everything is just fine, ok or good. It falsely conveys everything is under control. To the outside world, and at first glance, it will appear nothing is troubling and the survivor is high-functioning and productive. The truth is a survivor is one harsh word, one glance, or a slight away from crumbling from anxiety, panic, frustration and terror. The shield also helps to keep a secret and bury feelings of shame, guilt, blame, confusion and anger about the harassment from the perpetrator and peers.
Throughout the day, the mounting pressure and threat of being perceived as weak or unable to handle engagement with the perpetrator, revictimized by gossip, judged by others, misunderstood by teachers, or having to explain to teachers why a survivor cannot “just ignore the perpetrator” at school is paralyzing to a survivor. It puts an unnecessary and additional burden on a survivor to provide for their own safety.
It’s social suicide to be emotional or have to admit the reality of the situation to a peer. And as a result, survivors are unable to be present in their day, and engage authentically with those around them. It soon becomes impossible to focus and pay attention to school lessons and assignments. A survivor will often sit in the seat furthest from the perpetrator and his peers, or sitting closest to a teacher’s desk for safety, holding her/his breath and hoping the perpetrator won’t show up to class that period or day. All of this has the potential to derail an education over time for a survivor.
A survivor seeks temporary safety in a bathroom stall, hiding in a locked in a car during study hall, cutting class or in a guidance counselor's office. Over time, survivors become isolated, alone and without friends. They become emotionally disconnected in an effort to keep themselves safe. There is an increased likelihood they will choose dangerous or unhelpful strategies to cope, I.e. cutting, drinking, and other impulsive behaviors for emotional relief.
Without intervention services, palpable and pervasive fear and anxiety set in and became the baseline of operating for these survivors. There is a repetitive and frequent exposure to harassment in locations such as hallways, stairwells and classrooms. Name calling and dehumanized sexualied or objectifying language can destroy a young person’s self confidence and self worth. Gossip and rumors are created to dominate, bully and control. If these occurrences aren’t caught early and stopped immediately, they have the power to spread among an entire student body instead of a small concentrated group or single person. Physical intimidation, verbal threat and confrontation all become weapons with which to dominate a target. These tactics become elements in the conquest until the will of the target is dominated all over again.
Survivors can only look forward to the last day of school and hope to be forgotten over break.