Ten years ago, I was 19. 19 seems so young, so unknowing compared to all I’ve learned in the last ten years. The first year is the hardest, you know, because you spend every morning thinking, “One year ago today, I was happy. One year ago today, I didn’t know this life. One year ago today, I didn’t have panic attacks or cry myself to sleep.” And on and on and on. But that’s not to say that the next nine years are easy, because they’re not.
I still have panic attacks when I see my midwife for a yearly exam. Because the exam makes me think of the rape kit, of my family doctor and the older nurse, who I’d known for years, who gave me allergy shots when I was just eight years old, fumbling while they read the instructions on the rape kit, while I cringed and held my mom’s hand. Every year, I breathe deep and tell myself to panic that this is not the same, but every year, my heart betrays me and races, my skin turns red and blotchy, and I just try to get through it. I have my appointment in a few weeks. I wonder if this year will be the year that I finally rise above it?
8th graders think rape jokes are funny. Did you know that? They think it’s hilarious to throw the word around like it’s so meaningless, when someone touches them in the hall, they scream, HE’S RAPING ME. I endure it every single year, letting the words roll off of me cringing, but once a year, I lose it. I turn red and yell and say, Rape isn’t funny. Why do you think rape is funny? IT’S NOT FUNNY. I rant like a crazy person and I know they all think I’ve lost my mind and probably roll their eyes and laugh about me in lunch, but I always just hope that maybe one of them gets it. Maybe one of them stops twice and thinks about it.
I’ve been that crazy person this whole week. As soon as the calendar starts to roll into June, I become unhinged and yell and cry and realize why I’m doing it, but I’m powerless to stop it (just like I was ten years ago). This year, I just feel tired. I feel weary and want to be over it, but I’m not. I’m so thankful that I shared my story last year, but today, I don’t want it to be my story. I want to not even think about today, to wake up on say, June 15th, and think, Hey! I didn’t even notice! I wonder if or when that day will come and I pray that someday it does. I hate it, but I live this day knowing that tomorrow is June 4th and that it will be okay. It always is.
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24 comments:
i love you so hard. i wish i could hug you and share a carton of ice cream with you. XO
I'm so unbelievably sorry that you went through that, but so incredibly thankful that you shared. I'll be thinking about you...
Thinking of and praying for you.
So many hugs!!
I think that year will come when it's suddenly the second week of June and you think, huh.
But until then - hugs your boys, lean on your friends, cry all you need, and know that sharing your story touched people and changed the world.
{xo}
xoxoxo {{{hugs}}}
xoxo
I love you, darling girl.
erin, i'm so glad i know you and your strength. (also, dude, playdate SOON.) thanks for being so brave and sharing your story and your vulnerability.
xoxo
Huge hug... wrapping my arms completely around you and glaring at anyone who interrupts.
Unless they are just joining the hug pile.
xoxo
I wish I would have known that it was that time of year. It seems like a crazy thing to put on my calendar, but I would have totally taken you out to lunch today.
I hope that you are doing something fun today so that you can push those memories aside.
And also...8th graders are dumb...(well, not all of them, but you know what I mean ;))
Hugs to you. The kind where you don't let go for a long time. The kind like a former student gave me yesterday. Where I went to let go of her and she said "no, I'm not done yet".
I am positive your rant has changed at least one 8th grader's perception. Positive. When teachers react to what kids say, it does make them think. Not all of them, but some. And I have seen that cascade, then they become the one to say something and make someone else think.
Love to you, bestie.
I hate that you have to hear it like that, and I do hope this is your year. You're already above, I just hope this year you can feel it. Sushi to toast the new year?
Steph
sending you love & prayers.
and i know you've made a difference to some of those kids about this. i know it.
i love you. and some day, i honestly believe that the day will come and go and you won't realize until it's passed. i don't know when or how long that might take, but i believe it will, one day. *big hugs*. love you
Lots and lots of love to you, girl. xoxo
So much love to you. You are amazing. You have changed at least one little brat's perception on what is okay to say. I know you have. You've made one of them think about what they are saying and how their words do impact people.
((((((((())))))))
Thinking of you this week, Erin. And every year.
Erin, I hate that you have to go through this every year. And I hate what happened to you. I hope this is your year, friend. I pray for it. Thinking of you so much.
So much love to you Erin *hugs*
Wait till your my age!
I love you so much. I will always be proud of you for sharing your story. I believe with all my heart that a time will come where this date will pass without you being haunted by its arrival. I love you, love you, love you.
My students say this at school too, among other horrible things. Sometimes, it seems as if you can remind them forever why that isn't appropriate, and it doesn't make a difference. But, even if in the mind of one student something clicked, it's worth it. Plus, I always remind myself that if we let just one thing slide, then one student who is struggling with an issue the others are joking about may not be as apt to tell us. I KNOW you have changed some of your students' thoughts.
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