Have you ever had an experience that left you confused and a bit shaky? I did recently, and it seemed it was because of my own actions—or rather lack of action. Anyone who knows me would probably describe me as confident and outspoken; it’s how I would describe myself. As a social worker who teaches sexual-abuse prevention, I fight battles most don’t want to, I give speeches in front of large crowds, and I am not shy. That is what makes what happened to me so much more impactful.
I attended a training session for mental-health professionals as I often do; I’m what you’d call a training junkie. It was highly educational and valuable. At the end of the day, as per most trainings, when learning something new, we break into groups to practice the newly learned methods on each other. It involves sharing personal information and a level of trust which can be difficult for some, but has never really been an issue for me. I am a pretty open person and I believe I invite people in, which makes what happened next confusing for me.
I was paired up with another woman who was younger than I am and a gentleman who was older. We each took a turn with the exercise and shared something we struggled with. This in itself naturally leaves one a bit vulnerable. While we were processing the techniques used to maximize our learning, the gentleman reached over and put one of his hands on my knee and his other hand on the other woman’s knee. Let me say that I do not believe his intentions were sinister or planned in any way. It did seem to be the norm for him, as he was very comfortable with the gesture. He kept his hand in that spot for what seemed to me a while, and then we were called back to the main room for final comments. I was flooded with all sorts of emotions, thoughts, and somatic experiences. I left soon after that and sat in my car for a while.
What just happened? And what was it that was bothering me? I closed my eyes and went inside to see what I was feeling, and I could still feel his hand on my knee. I was uncomfortable with it, I didn’t want it, I wasn’t prepared for it, my guard was not up—it felt like a boundary violation. I sat with the feeling that was starting to brew inside and waited to see what came up. Then it hit me. Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I move? What was going on for me? I had a thousand thoughts in that moment, most of which revolved around not wanting to hurt his feelings. I thought about ways I could say something that would be polite and kind, I thought of ways to move in a manner that wouldn’t insult him; I didn’t think of myself or anything I was feeling, I felt frozen in my body’s extremities and completely chaotic in my chest, my stomach, and my viscera.
This reaction, believe it or not, is actually pretty normal. In life, when something overwhelming happens that we are not prepared for, our brains make instant decisions on how to save us. It may trigger a need to fight our way out of the situation and get away from it, or it may actually send a response to freeze in order to not get into any more trouble and be safe. I study this in my trauma trainings and I see clients with all sorts of trauma to whom I explain this in my psychoeducation portion of our sessions. In addition, I teach sexual-abuse prevention to children and their parents, and I often reiterate that even if you can’t say “no” or run away from a predator, the most important thing to do is to tell someone.
There are times when I get a question from an individual asking me, “Why can’t the kid just run or yell?” Or a parent may say, “I told my child to say ‘no’ so many times to an unwanted touch. How could he just sit there and let it happen?” Or someone may say to me, “That woman was leaning into that man when he was talking so closely. She must have known he was going to touch her. Why didn’t she just leave, yell, run, tell?”
The nature of these types of situations and experiences is complicated, with a host of things happening in your brain and body almost simultaneously. When people face something they fear or something they were not prepared for that is overwhelming, an assessment happens almost instantly, and their instincts take over to fight or get away from the perceived danger. If these two responses are not considered possibilities, the freeze response is elicited. This can be extremely useful in order to keep you safe. Think of the woman who is being raped at gunpoint or the child who is being beaten by a drunk parent. If they fight back or try to run, they may actually get much more hurt or even killed. By freezing, they will probably have the best chance to make it out alive. This process is not voluntary; it is something that happens automatically for survival. This is so crucial to understand for the sake of all individuals who fall victim to a predator or predatory actions. You know the saying “until you walk a mile in their shoes…” Well, it stands true in most scenarios, this included. Our culture tends to shame victims, to question their behaviors that “led” to the horrible thing that happened to them. The key word is to them, not because of them.
After I was able to start driving, I called a friend and colleague of mine, who also specializes in trauma, to process what happened, and to my surprise she verbalized the same things I was thinking. “Maybe there was a way to ask him to move his hand in a way that wouldn’t have hurt his feelings.” For some reason when I heard her say that, I was able to jump out of my confusion and I saw everything clearly. “Why should I be worried about his feelings? What about me? What about my boundaries? What about my feelings?”
We processed it together, and I was able to make a plan for myself for my next encounter such as this. And I felt OK. It’s unfortunate that I say “my next encounter,” but being a woman in this culture, I am kind of expecting I’ll have another encounter to practice with, and that makes me sad.
When I got home that night I sat with my four children and told them about my experience. I explained to them the importance of trusting your gut feeling, of understanding your own boundaries, of knowing your right to say “no” despite anyone else’s feelings, but most importantly, I told them of my inability to do this in the moment. I gave them the knowledge that if something ever happens that they don’t like or don’t feel comfortable with and they get stuck and freeze, it is not their fault, it is their brain’s way of protecting them. They can forgive themselves, and most importantly, they can come and share it with me and I will understand and love them anyway.
In the end I can’t say I’m glad the experience happened, but I can say it deepened my understanding of my clients, of human beings in general, and hopefully with helping others understand themselves and each other.
This article was originally published in the 5 Towns Jewish times on November 14, 2018
https://www.5tjt.com/she-asked-for-it/
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