Not a full week passed before the social media and news stratosphere exploded with the next sensational item.  From attacks on our Canadian soldiers and symbols to the now infamous essay by a former CBC host and the subsequent media blitz, it's been a very difficult week.  My emotions are on edge and I wish nothing more than to crawl into my little hole in the sidewalk. 

While the former inspires my sense of courage and resilience, the latter only triggers the memories and thoughts of my recent past, and the knot in my stomach just clenches tighter and tighter.

He may have gotten his side of the story out first, but being the aggressor, it's his way of manipulating the situation to maintain and control the power imbalance. At least, that's my view of it.

In some ways, I resent having all this media focused on this topic - I don't want to be thinking about it.  I don't want to feel the things I'm feeling, in particular, the sense of shame that weighs deep within me. A part of me is trying to stay objective - I don't have all the facts, I don't know the full story of either sides, so how can I be in position to judge and lay verdict?  I know that we have an opportunity here to engage in dialogue, discussion, and demand action that will bring about meaningful change in our societal attitudes and how we treat one another, regardless of consent.

I hate this kind of vulnerable...I'm focused on not letting his story or their stories deter me from my own healing journey. It's easy for me to feel compassion for these women, because it hits close to home and what I've experienced.  But I hate how shame is creeping back in...I hate how it's smirking at me. 

To consent or not to consent...

I did not consent.

I didn't consent 25 years ago. 

I didn't consent 19 years ago. 

I didn't consent 2 years ago.

But I am still here...feeling exposed, shaken...eventually, I'll get the perspective that I need to overcome all this...but for now, it's just one day at a time...