Therapist. That’s a funny word, isn’t it. It’s something that I never really saw coming.
We’ll get to that story later. For right now, I want to focus on the “what”. When therapists start their career, it’s usually a monumental moment or a significant trauma that launches them to graduate school. That launch is given momentum by the sheer will and dedication to help as many people as we can. As we distract ourselves with that story, we sometimes forget everything that made us who we are and the work that we need to continue to do for ourselves. We become a part of the stigma that believes we need to have everything figured out before we help others. Since we don’t, we usually try to hide behind it. For me, I couldn’t do that.
So, you might be asking, “What happened to Becca?”
It wasn’t just one thing for me. It was a combination of events and teachings that led me to believe and act a certain way. For the longest time, I thought that trauma was something that had to be BIG. I thought this especially after reading, “A Stolen Life” by Jaycee Dugard. I remember thinking about the things that I went through and how none of it compared to being held prisoner, raped, forced to carry his children, tortured, and abused for 18 years. I think that I did a fantastic job of gas-lighting myself into believing that what I went through wasn’t bad enough. I told myself that I should be grateful for how I was spared from the trauma that Jaycee went through.
All this did was suppress my trauma until I imploded. The things that happened to me included: religious institutional indoctrination, childhood abuse, financial stress, poor family dynamics, abuse from religious leaders, sexual assault, suicide attempts, pill addiction, abusive romantic relationships, unhealthy friendships, eating disorders, job loss, and well … the list could go on.
As I’m writing this, I understand that this is an extensive list, but I really choose to believe that it was “nothing” or it wasn’t enough. I did that so I wouldn’t label myself as the one thing that would destroy my life forever – a victim.
I was taught that as a victim, you have no control over what happens to you. You end up putting your vulnerable self out there and anyone can do anything with it. As a victim, you are weak and easily manipulated.
Well, I hate to break the news, but I AM a victim. The things that happened were outside of my control. I didn’t fight back because I didn’t know how to and I didn’t know what was wrong. I was taught to believe that you could be abused by “stranger danger” in a trench coat, but that when your pastor hits you, it’s God’s will.
Yes, a lot of stuff happened to me that people didn’t always see. I put on a happy face and made people believe a narrative that I was okay. On the inside, I was screaming in pain, begging for help. The question, “what happened to Becca?” isn’t so simple. It’s a story that after years of therapy and questioning of my own faith and principles, I’m prepared to tell. As you read my stories, understand that your trauma doesn’t have to look the same as mine. Everyone has a different way of reacting to events in their lives.
So it’s time to buckle in. Are you ready?