The Nerve He Touched

It's almost a week since "the grab" Trump video aired.  It's been a rough and tumble one for many women, including me.  I have been the victim of many -- yep, the word many is not hyperbole here -- sexual assaults.  Most of them happened in my 20's and 30's, which also happens to be when I first started working on all the goings on inside my heart and head (therapy, meditation and self-help recipes of the day). So I came out the other side of these events relatively unscathed.  

I also had wonderful male friends around me at every point to remind me that the perpetrators were not the norm, they were an aberration.

It's been a long time, though, since the majority of these things happened. That's why I'm always shocked when the nerve is touched.  When I heard Trump's words I felt like I put my finger in an electric socket.  Every single nerve previously touched by any male trespass buzzed back to life.

I thought I handled that.  

I thought that scab had been long healed. 

Wow, that was so long ago, I had forgotten about it until...

Trump touched that nerve.  He spoke for every man who felt like they had a right to my body.

Several hours before the video aired, I was asked out on a date by a man that I had been introduced to by an old friend's mom.  My friend's mom has always wanted to set me up and she met this man, didn't know a lot about him but thought the was adorable and would be a good match for me.  He had gone to high school with the son of her best friend so he wasn't a complete stranger in her circle.

I had spoken to him on the phone the previous night.  Before we spoke I had assumed it would just be the final "all clear to meet" after a few days of texting (I had a deadline and couldn't talk before that) and that we would likely be sipping wine together the following night.  

It became clear very quickly, thought, that it wasn't a match, that our basic priorities in life were not even similar.  We spoke for over two hours but he learned very little about me.   He had a lot he wanted me to know about him. So when he invited me out I told him it probably was not a great idea, we were likely not a great match.  I suggested he google me and read for about 4 minutes, and that he would very likely agree with me, that I would drive him bat shit crazy.  I also told him I had someone in mind to set him up with possibly, a friend I knew would also find him quite attractive and whose priorities in life were a bit more on par with his.

He was immediately incensed.  How dare I?  I "promised" I would meet him. He shamed me for not giving him a chance, and lashed out further at the idea of setting him up.  A few hours later he butt-dialed me and attacked me for calling him.  

When I saw Trump video soon after this, I was still stinging from his attacks. I realized that I have not only been the victim of many sexual assaults, but I have also been the victim of many domination assaults.  It's not just that my body was theirs if they wished it, it was all of me.

I like you, so I get to meet you.  I don't care what you think.  

I like you, and if you had your head on straight you would like me too. So get it together.

You are mine if I stake my claim on you.  This claim is invisible and in my head but it's as mighty as any pillar of steel or bronze plaque.  I. Own. This. You. That. It.

I started imagining my body with little bronze plaques all over it, imagined the myriad men hammering the plaques onto my body.   Then I imagined letting them all fall and clank to the floor.  That felt good.  

A few days later as more levels of healing took place as a result of that infamous video, I had a bit of a dark night of the soul for a few hours.  I yelled out to the universe that I don't want to draw men like that anymore into my life.  I added that I also don't want the super critical guys I have been attracting, unhappy with everything in their lives, taking responsibility for none of it.

Most important, because i know we draw in what is not healed in our own hearts I yelled that I wanted to stop the self-criticism. I am dealing with being very critical of the extra weight I have on me now, hating myself for it.  At the same time I also bumped up against the realization that all the sexual assaults that have taken place over the course of my life were when I was thin and felt my prettiest.  "It's not safe to be thin," said life.

• 14 or 15 years old -- My dad's best friend in his late 30's, very drunk, drives me home far too fast from a party in his Porsche. I had wanted to stay at the event longer than my dad, and I thought the friend innocently offered a ride. I got out of the car to run inside to safety as while he sped he rarely watched the road as he was busy leering.  He followed me inside, pushed me against the wall and kissed me.  Only his fear of being caught by my dad made him stop.
• 21 years old -- In Paris, a quintessential old Parisian man with requisite wool vest and beret, puts his tongue down my throat.
• 23 years old -- Man comes in my NY window in the dark of night. I talk him out of raping me, but not before he has extensively touched my body with hands and knife.
• 24 years old -- Two different men on two different occasions -- both of whom are now renowned TV and film producers respectively -- trapped me in their apartments, shoving me against a wall and kissing me.  I tried talking to both of them.  In both cases, I thought we were casual friends. We had many mutual friends.  In both cases, these meetings were not dates.  I fought my way out of both.
• 35 years old -- Dear friend's husband grabs me and pushes me against kitchen counter leaning into kiss me and I somehow (he was a big guy) get myself out of his clutches. His wife is in the next room.  I lost that friend when I had to tell her why I was being so distant.

There are many more in between, including many colorful public lewd acts done for my benefit specifically.  Jesus. 

I had to go dark and deep to deal with the parts of me I had assumed were long healed, and come to a place where I could declare I don't want to draw this domination, assault, entitlement into my orbit anymore.  I had to look at where I push it down in myself, how I am that myself.  I worked through a lot of it, but I'm sure more is to come. But now I shout from the rooftops in my mind: You don't own us because you are drawn to us. You don't get to touch or be with us because you want to.  Don't make us encase ourselves in bullet proof glass to protect the treasures we are!   

The good news is that almost every girlfriend I have spoken to this week is coming to another level of healing about her own history of assaults.  As Michelle Obama said today "This is not something that we can ignore." That's the good news. We can't ignore it anymore.  

So for this we can be grateful to the Trump.  The boil is bursting.  Hot goo shooting everywhere, and with it the opportunity for us all to heal on yet another level. We are all waking up a little more every day since the Trump alarm clock started ringing last Friday. The snooze button won't work. It is demanding we wake up and heal.

I am a stand that the healing will lead to all of us -- men and women -- to being our most powerful selves without having to dominate another. The power isn't over there, it's right here.  It's not in the grabbing - of anything or anyone.