Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Kelly looks toward the window, breathing deeply. Her cheeks reddened, and when she looks back at me, that betrayal is reflected in her eyes.
“It just feels like it keeps coming back,” she presses, the frustration lingering in her voice.
My throat gets tight… I know that feeling.
“I feel like,” Kelly begins, her voice thick with truth and emotion. “No matter how far away I get, no matter how much time passes, it’s still there.” She points at her chest. “Like it’s in my body, waiting for the moment I feel good, or I feel like I’m past it, or—” Kelly drops her hand to her lap, the tissue still clenched in her fist. “The second I let my guard down, it’s waiting to pounce on me again. Almost like it’s playing with me. Almost like I’m playing with me, because these are my—this is how I feel about what he did. I keep thinking I’m over it. But then something will happen and I’m right back in that house. All I want is to erase it somehow, and…I don’t know how to do that.”
“Where in your body do you feel that?” I ask her and she taps on her chest three times. “Right here,” she admits with her eyes glassy, “and sometimes my throat gets tight.”
I nod. “There’s a book I can recommend to you. You’re not wrong. The body holds trauma, and you don't have resolution or justice. It’s hard on the body when there was never an ending that makes you feel safe.”
She lets out a heavy sigh. Her eyes drop to her hands in her lap, her lip quivering. Kelly grits her teeth and the dimple in her chin disappears.
I sit with what she’s said for a few moments.
I don’t want to rush to respond to her. I want her to know that I’ve considered her words before I start talking.
And—
The way she said back in that house jogged something in my brain. That’s how I would’ve said back at school. That’s how I think back at school in my own head.
My mind races and I remind myself that I need to stop. It’s only the news and the recent events that have brought all of this up.
“It’s your grief and you’re allowed to acknowledge that you feel that way. You can process it just like you are. Talking through it. The more you do, the easier it will come and the easier it will feel.”
She tries to respond but can’t, I look at the 20-year-old like she is me. That’s how I used to lay when I was struck with the past and could barely move, let alone talk about it.
I know the situation isn’t the same. What happened to Kelly with her ex-boyfriend was just as wrong as what was done to us in school, but there are some differences that I’ve been careful to acknowledge.
One similarity is that it wasn’t our fault. What happened to me happened because of my parents, and in another way, it happened because of the people who lied to my parents.
What happened to Kelly happened because of her boyfriend. It was his choice to act the way he did.
I think Kelly is at a place where she’s ready to see her own power again. That can be extremely hard, but without it, some people don’t feel that their lives are worth living.
“Kelly.” I keep my voice soft and my notebook and pen down. This is something I want to say to her directly, and I want her to hear it from me directly. I look her in the eyes, and her expression brightens with tentative hope. “Everything that happens—good or bad—has an impact. Sometimes it’s harder to see the changes that good things bring, but they affect us just like the bad things. All our experiences shape us this way. We’re constantly growing and constantly learning, and we’re all a little different every day because of what happens to us and because of how we deal with it. Those are the things that make us who we are. And you are coping the best you can and you’re taking steps. These are things to be proud of.”
She swallows, the cords in her neck tightening, “The only thing that makes sense is to pretend it didn’t happen or forget about it somehow. How else am I supposed to leave it in the past?”
“You don’t.”
Kelly’s doe eyes go wide.
“You can’t leave it behind because you can’t leave you behind. I know it hurts to have this with you. I know you’re suffering, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. If you could forget or pretend it didn’t happen, you’d be out there living your life and not trying to work through this.”
Kelly makes a helpless gesture, speechless at my suggestion.
“I think the only way to leave these experiences in the past—in any shape or form—is to accept that they happened and accept that they changed you. And then, when old feelings come up again, remember that you survived them once. Acknowledge the pain. Process your feelings and talk it through. They might feel as strong as they did when it first happened, but the difference now is that they can’t control you. You got away from your ex-boyfriend. He can’t ever change the things he did or the way he made you feel. But you can choose how you live from now on.”