#YesAllWomen

September 25, 2015

So it’s been a few days. Happens when you’re juggling multiple projects. Things take priority. Filming a feature in December of this year and that’s kind of been front burner. But I haven’t forgotten you OR this blog or future documentary.

I was on a panel about mental illness at Imaginarium. (If you’re a writer, lover of music or film this is THE place to be) It was there a panelist said because of her experiences she did not lie about sex.

She was very vocal and forceful. Assertive.

That’s something sexual abuse and rape seems to steal from its victims. Their voice.

Be it singular or collective our voices are robbed from us until we can figure out a way to take it back.

Many find it again through therapy. Trust me, therapy isn’t the coward’s way out. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. And no matter what you think there is a therapist for every victim. Of course finding the right one for you is also important.

Therapy saved my life. In and out of it from the time I was nineteen I knew this was an issue that demanded me to really dig deep and be fearless in my honesty. I graduated therapy at thirty seven years of age. And I still have my therapist on speed dial just for this issue alone.

Reclaiming my voice has been a journey that really took the onset of my bipolar disorder to address. 

As they seemed to feed off of one another.

When I was 24 I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

But there were other issues bubbling around as triggers. And reclaiming my voice became a central issue in my therapy sessions.

I’ll be frank with you. I HATED talking about the abuse and rape. Sessions lasting an hour long where I had to confront the pain I had been trying so desperately to hide with humor, with food, through my creative expression only served to exacerbate all of the terrific symptoms.

Anxiety. Phobias. And while I may not have conquered all of them I am not the scared, shamed up, quiet little girl afraid of her predators anymore.

Thanks to those sessions where I would leave feeling raw, tender, tired and bruised up I got stronger. People from my past who think I’m the same person I was in high school, or even college really never knew me at all. In those sessions I found my power again. And through it all I wrote.

Writing was my strength.

Writing was my salvation.

It was where I found my voice. And with my voice I found my power.

Therapy was where I did the hard work to find that power.

It was worth it.

There you can safely talk about your predators. You can name names. You can list their crimes without fear of retribution. It might take a minute to summon the courage to talk about it. But know with therapy you’re in a safe place.

It is a soft place to land. You don’t have to prove anything. All you have to do, and it’s only if you choose to, is to share your story.

Admittedly easier said than done. Sharing one’s story takes the kind of bravery and courage of a soldier. Because you’ve been through a war and you need to be put back together again.

There’s a stigma attached to be an abuse survivor.

That goes for the brutality of rape in all its forms.

It’s not like the justice system is easy on the survivor. If you do get the courage to press charges there is the very real chance you will be put on trial and made to look to be the guilty party. Or that you, perhaps misunderstood what was just an innocent display of affection.

Don’t you believe it for a second.

If your gut tells you that something isn’t right, listen to it. But if you are a survivor who is search of their voice, don’t be afraid to seek out a professional’s guidance.

While not every therapist is not for every person. There is the right therapist out there for you. Don’t be afraid to reach out. Someone is waiting to listen.

Until Next Time,

Amy

#YesAllWomen

September 21, 2015

Again, late at night an straddling days. I’ve been sad today. Tomorrow I plan on calling my therapist.

Working on this blog is a challenge. In many ways it’s a positive thing. It gives me a voice to reclaim my survivor status and to possibly help others. It holds predators accountable for their actions and shines a light on a terrible epidemic throughout the world.

In others it reopens old wounds and can have the effect of bringing on nightmares or triggering depressive episodes where my bipolar disorder is concerned.

Today I have been sad. I’ve been productive. But struggling to come up with a proper topic to cover. So I thought would touch a scourge. Child pornography.

Pictures and videos of children in sexually violent poses. That they were victimized to begin with is heinous enough. The men who download and trade these things online are disgusting, sad, pathetic and vile human beings. Is it not enough that children in these pictures have been violated once, but then repeatedly by each monster that views said pictures.

To say what these men do ‘isn’t as bad as’ what the person who initially violated the child in said pictures is endemic of a much larger problem in society.

These men are just as guilty as the rapist who conjured up these images. They derive sexual pleasure or a sense of power from viewing said pictures. I’ve heard men like these defended the ‘isn’t as bad as’ phrase and it sickens me to my core.

These men are rarely given any real prison time. A veritable slap on the wrist that says because you have money and you’re a so-called pillar of the community you won’t be held to the same standard as say someone with no money who stole from grocery store to feed his family. Both are crimes but only one is truly repulsive and deserves damnation from society as a whole.

I am not a victim of said brand of sexual violence. I, however, know a victim and two predators. One who went unpunished entirely and another because he had money and standing managed to wiggle his way out of it.

These men, if you can really call them that, need to be thrown into prison and locked away without the key. The ultimate irony in all of this is that once imprisoned child predators are protected from general population. Their rights are protected while the child they harmed is living with the consequences of these men’s crimes.

I suppose knowing someone directly affected by this sort of thing just makes blood boil. This person did nothing to precipitate her crime. She was a child.

Often in society it part of rape culture to blame the victim.

She shouldn’t have been dressed like that.

She was a tease.

She looked eighteen.

She said yes to begin with.

Any woman, or man for that matter has a right to say no. And since a child is by definition NOT an adult they have no ability to give consent.

No boy or girl should have to endure being forced into sexual situations they have no business being a part of.

A child should be worried about when his math homework is due. Whether or not they’re going to make the team. Dreaming about what they’ll be when they grow up.

They shouldn’t be worrying if Uncle so and so or Father whatever is going to rape them, snap photos and share it with a global internet population.

These children, should they grow into adults shouldn’t have to worry about that monster and his photos and people re-victimizing them as they try to heal from a horrible experience.

They say you can tell a lot about society by how they treat their children and animals. If you ask me our world has a lot to learn about that.

Until Next Time,

Amy

#yesallwomen

September 20, 2015

I’m starting this ten minutes to midnight so in essence it will be the post for tomorrow. But since the issue spoke to me today I’m flagging it with a September 20^th date.

Prostitution. The way it is treated today only protects the pimp and enables him to sexually violate the woman and her basic human rights. The way it is portrayed in the movies it is usually sensationalized. Or even in books or other types of media.

Women in this institution when arrested often beg the arresting officers to get them out of ‘this’. Ask yourself when see a woman plying in this trade, how old is she? Because she looks young. Why would a girl with all the hopes and dreams of any girl in America end up here.

Which brings me to this. Human trafficking.

Women and girls are abducted every day and often fall off the grid because they were labeled as ‘troubled’, ‘runaways’, or somehow less than in society. Don’t get me wrong. These kinds of things often happen to young boys as well. But I’m speaking strictly from a female perspective.

Our culture has the tendency to say these segment of society are the throw aways. The less thans. The ones somehow least deserving of our protection.

There are those who enter this profession willingly. These are not the women I’m talking about. But again in a sense I am.

A writer for the Chicago Sun Times was quoted as saying sex workers can’t be raped. The hell they can’t. They still have the right to refuse service. But his belief isn’t exactly an isolated incident. It speaks to a broad assumption about those working in the sex industry.

I personally know people who have worked in said industry. Not as a prostitute but someone who had an up close and personal relationship with it. She saw others fall prey to its dangers and pitfalls. It’s unfortunate because these people’s lives have as much value as hers, as mine, and as yours.

Those working for a pimp often fell in with him when he was posing as a possible boyfriend. And she was already ‘in love’ when he ‘asked’ or more likely ‘ordered’ her to have sex with one of his ‘friends’. And then took most of the money from the paying customer.

There needs to be an agency that goes after the pimps who do this. Instead of a sting designed to catch women working the streets where they will be arrested, thrown in jail, make bail and be back out plying the oldest profession in the book.

Another agency still that takes the women wanting out of this because they’ve either been a part of human trafficking scheme or just want out and give them protection, counseling, healthcare, vocational rehab. And if they are traumatized by their experiences therapy for what is most likely PTSD or anxiety or any myriad of psychological issues. Disability should made available to them as well.

These women need to cared for. These women need to be heard. These women need to be shown their lives have value just because they are living, breathing human beings. They need to feel safe and protected and know that have basic human rights to a life of whatever it is they please.

Until Next Time

Amy