Speak

I was looking at a list of songs a teacher friend of mine sent me today that shows different works of literature and pop songs that were supposedly inspired by those works.  It's not accurate AT ALL, but one of the novels mentioned on there was Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson.  I remember having to read that book my freshman year of high school in the only non-honors english class I took in high school (I'm totally bragging about how smart I am right now, deal with it.) If you haven't read it, I suggest you do. It is an INCREDIBLE book. The movie isn't too shabby either even though it has Kristen Stewart....her lack of emotion and facial expressions actually really work in her favor this time around. They play it on Lifetime all the time!

Anyway, I was thinking a lot about the book and how much I had loved it. Melinda (the main character) had been raped at a party one summer, and started out the school year dealing with the emotional and psychological pain. She wouldn't talk to anyone and never told anyone she had been raped. The year I read Speak I found myself being angry. Why would she keep it a secret? Why didn't she say anything? Why would she let people go on thinking he was a nice guy!? I found myself cheering when she finally told towards the end. I'm starting to realize, though, that you really don't know how you'll react until you're thrown in that situation. I realized I am JUST like Melinda.

I have lived my entire life thinking "bad things don't happen to people like me".  I'm a nice person, I'm little miss social butterfly, I treat people with respect, I volunteer (a lot more back in the day than I do now, I'd like to work on that), I have a supportive and loving family and a great group of friends. Bad things don't happen to GOOD GIRLS. I was an idiot if I honestly thought that was true. So naive. With all of the crap I've dealt with in my life (before my rape) and seeing the types of horrible things that have even happened to the people around me, you would think I'd have a different mind set.  I always said that if anyone came after me I would fight tooth and nail, they wouldn't get away with it. I would scream, bite, scratch, spit, kick.....fight with everything I've got until I'd defeated my attacker! I would tell everyone what happened to me and inspire people to be strong like I had. That was my wonderful plan. So. STUPID.

My definition of strong back in the day was fighting and not letting things bother me. Then I was raped. I told my family and a handful of people about it and then hid it from everyone else for as long I could.  I stayed silent. I fought for a little amount of time while my rapist did whatever he wanted, and then I was so tired I didn't even care. I gave up. That wasn't my idea of being strong! My depression and PTSD? That was weak! I was disgusted with myself. How could I have done everything I swore I would never do in this situation? How did I even allow myself to end up in this situation? Surely I had done something to ask for it, clearly these things didn't happen to girls like me unless I did something to provoke someone. I went through so much self blame for months. I still have moments where I blame myself and feel guilty, and I've come to except the fact that I'll have to deal with those moments of doubt forever. It's easy to self blame when you're losing friends and people are choosing sides. If my friends aren't standing behind me then obviously I did something wrong.

I realize now, though, that I WAS strong. I wasn't being strong by my original definition, this was a different kind of strong.  I was merely trying to survive. Showing up to class and therapy in sweatpants and bedhead was not me giving up. If I had given up I wouldn't have shown up to those things at all. I realize now that I wasn't thriving during those days, I was surviving....struggling to keep my head above water.  Strong was walking tall even though people I used to call my friends were calling me names and harassing me everywhere I went.  Strong was being patient with my family even though sometimes even they said things that hurt me (yes this happened, no they didn't mean it, and for the record I never told them that. and also I know they're reading this....don't go getting all emotional or up in arms or demand instances because it isn't a big deal).  Strong was trying to complete my education even though I was at war with myself. Strong was pulling myself together and slapping a fake smile on my face for my students. Strong was staying calm when my tires were slashed and it became apparent there were people out there bent on hurting me. Strong was waiting until I was at home, locked in my bedroom, to cry. STRONG WAS SURVIVING.

Everything I swore wouldn't happen did. All of my naive opinions on the situation were clearly wrong. That's why it's so interesting for me to look back on how I felt in high school and compare it to the reality I live now. I'm really glad that Speak was brought up randomly to me today because it really let me see how much I've changed over time. Anyway....seriously if you haven't read it you really need to, and you should probably watch the movie too. It's pretty legit.