Raising my daughters to honor their voice, from a sexual assault survivor.
A few years ago I read an article titled, Reminder: She Doesn’t Owe Anyone a Hug. Not Even at the Holidays.
““The notion of consent may seem very grown-up and like something that doesn’t pertain to children,” says Girl Scouts’ developmental psychologist Dr. Andrea Bastiani Archibald, “but the lessons girls learn when they’re young about setting physical boundaries and expecting them to be respected last a lifetime, and can influence how she feels about herself and her body as she gets older.”
I resonated with the article and I immediately started to give our daughter’s voice (Alexandra was an only child at the time) power and weight. And since I read that article, her dad and I have focused on teaching her how to honor her body, to have dominion over it, to treat it with care and respect.
This year, she started Pre-K 4. Wowzers! This is our first year to experience a full school experience. You know what I mean, parents? Drop off is at 8am, pick up is at 1pm, Monday-Friday. There’s folders and checklists and forms and meetings -- it has really thrown a wrench in our coffee drinking!
Last week we were getting ready for school, the house was moving at 90 miles per hour, we were running late, so I hustled to her bathroom and grabbed her long, curly hair to loop it into a ponytail, and turned to me, raised her voice and firmly told me, “MY HAIR, MY BODY. You didn’t have permission.”
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I was born in 1983, and finally at 35 with the help of therapists, God, personal growth and community, I have started to stand tall in the notion that my body is my body.
Laura Morsman Photography
Becoming a mom -- the pregnancy, the post-partum depression, the cracking open of my heart and body, the evolving and changing – peeled back my protective layers. It exposed every raw nerve ending I had surrounding body image and worth. And by the grace of God, I knew that I was being presented with the opportunity to heal festering wounds and broken belief systems.
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The first time someone groped me, I was in the 3rd grade. I was 8.
Me, at 8 years old.
We were in the school hallway standing in front of our homeroom and one of my classmates reached out and grabbed my 8 year old boobs with his hands.
I was wearing a blue polo shirt (my parents used to dress me in shirts that would tone down my curves) and long denim shorts. My cheeks still flushed from recess.
I still remember his face and the way his straight black hair framed it.
I still remember the confusion.
I still remember the embarrassment.
Do I think my classmate was evil? No.
Do I think he knew what he was doing? No.
Do I think he should have known better? Yes.
It sucked.
I went home and told my parents. They were mortified, and my dad told me to punch anyone who ever did that again.
That was the start of it. 3rd grade. 8 years old.
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Becoming a mother to now two young girls has shined a light on all sorts of things, like:
I am always aware of the men around me, how they are acting and what they are doing, and I’m always aware of how I am dressed. What people will think of me when I wear _______________? What message am I sending? Isn’t that sad? I know that’s the way of the world, and I know that’s the way it’s always been, but my goodness, does it always have to be that way?
I’m not even sure I know how to make choices without taking the “man factor” into account.
My heart races because somewhere along the way people planted seeds of “it’s not that bad,” or “it’s no big deal,” or “he isn’t hurting anyone.”
As a woman society taught me to give and serve and be hospitable -- to cushion the blow for everyone else, especially the men. Sometimes I feel like I should just absorb the discomfort of harassment/indecency/bad taste -- for the sake of the relationship, situation, party, moment, etc.
I remember going on dates and ending up in the same room with the guy after and feeling like I owed it to him – I owed him sex, I owed him my body. And for the record, he may not have thought that I did – but we were too young and ignorant to have any language for it. What a terribly low bar. Food? A meal? In exchange for my body? My spirit? The space that it would take in my heart forever? Pitiful.
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So when Alexandra said, “MY HAIR, MY BODY. You didn’t have permission.”
My immediate thoughts were:
Use your mom card, YOU ARE HER MOM.
Override her.
It’s time to go to school!
No time for preferences in the morning.
BUT I took some time and thought, If I override her voice now, it will be that much harder for her to keep centered and strong in her convictions.
As her mother, I will always have some authority over her, AND so will a lot of other people, and I NEVER want her to think, their opinion or preferences matter more than mine.
Because, that’s what a lot of this boils down to, right? What you want, matters more than what I want. And that’s bullshit. What I want should matter.
In regard to healthy relationships (not any form of abuse)…
We are bigger and better and smarter than thinking only one person can get their way. There’s always talking, there’s always a widening of perspective, there’s always letting go, there’s always space for discovery and possibility. There’s always opportunity for someone to speak up about who they are and what they want. There’s always time to hear someone and honor them. There’s always time to be heard and be honored.
I want our mother/daughter relationship to be a model for her relationships going forward.
What does a loving, caring, solid relationship look like? What does it feel like? How do two people dance it out? How do two people cheer each other on? How do people in relationship walk through disagreements? How does someone lead with honor? What does it feel like when someone wants the best for me and the best for themselves?
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Alexandra: “MY HAIR, MY BODY. You didn’t have permission.”
Me: “You are absolutely right, Alexandra. I did not have permission. Since we are going to school, would it be okay if I put your hair in a ponytail?”
Alexandra: “Okay, you can give me a pony tail. But, remember, mama, MY HAIR, MY BODY.”
Me: “Yes it is, sweetheart. Next time I’ll ask permission.”
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
And yet, #metoo
By now you may have heard of the #MeToo movement. A movement to get women to say out loud – I was harassed, molested, abused, assaulted and maybe even raped.
The other night when I saw my girlfriend post ‘Me Too.’ I paused and thought, Wow. Her? She’s so smart and capable and well put together. She’s a great mom and wife and business woman. She shows no outward signs of trauma. She’s funny and kind and fiercely strong. Her?
But then I thought: Me Too.
I have been harassed too many times to count, fondled in a club setting and I couldn’t tell whose hand it was. One time I was working in a restaurant and while I was facing a table that the restaurant owner was sitting at – a man from a table behind me grabbed me between my legs. Thank goodness I was wearing pants. No invitation, in public – while I was working — and while his 80 -year-old mom was sitting across from him. I was overcome with emotion. I went at told my boss and I was met with a luke warm reaction, and my heart broke. How could someone value sales over my well-being?
I went home at told my boyfriend – and he stood up for me in a way that felt so good. He helped me feel safe again – and worthy of being protected.
One time I was in college and a guy walked out of his dorm bathroom naked and started yelling at me. He called me a whore and all sorts of other things and why wouldn’t I just give it up? I left his room running and didn’t tell a soul. Years later I saw him being honored during half-time of a UT football game for being on the National Championship team. My heart dropped.
And that wasn’t the worse time.
One time during graduate school I was sexually assaulted. And that was the one that really sent me over the edge and spiraling in all sorts of ways invisible to anyone. I told a few people but didn’t get help for years. One day I decided maybe I should tell my mom – but no time ever seemed right. And so I told her while we were looking for earrings at Dillard’s.
It was so weird. I had no road map.
And she was the one who made sure I got the help I needed – for years.
From the outside – I kind of look like I have it all together – kind of like my girlfriend. I have friends, a career, a faith I love, and daughters who are the light of my life. I have a husband I adore and I volunteer and do all the normal things. No outward signs of trauma – and yet, #MeToo.
Noble Photography, Austin
I am telling you things that I haven’t thought about in years because they feel so gross. The restaurant incident literally made me feel SO violated. I am sitting here on my couch – wiping the tears from my face and drying my hands on my jeans. Seeing the accumulation of disrespect to my soul and my body is almost too much to handle.
My intention in sharing all of this it to create a safe space for you, for us.
My guess is that you have experienced something unwanted. I am uninterested in ranking our suffering. If our hearts hurt – if our spirits were changed – if our bodies were violated – it all matters.
And it’s okay if we take some time to tend to ourselves.
Recently I had the privilege of hearing Dr. Edith Eva Eger, she is a Holocaust survivor and the author of the book, The Choice. Being in her presence was unbelievably humbling. It was a blessing to hear her speak and share space with her. She was 16 when she was imprisoned in Auschwitz, miraculously survived and has gone on to do some amazing work through her lifetime. Perhaps some of the nuggets she shared can help us heal.
· The biggest prison is in our minds and we have the keys in our pockets.
· Don’t let someone’s energy take residency in your body.
· Don’t let the past hold you hostage
And two of the most impactful for me were,
“Grief is not an illness and, we can’t heal what we don’t feel.”
Sisters, I’m so sorry you have been hurt. Share your story with someone who will hold you tenderly. Seek help from loved ones and/or professionals. Give yourself every chance to release any shame, hurt, anger or frustration.
I’m going to do this too. I thought I was healed, but I think my feelings were just dormant – waiting for me to address them.
Thank you, #MeToo movement for spurring societal change and hopefully healing.
RESOURCES
· Text GIRL to 741-741 to be connected to a trained crisis counselor 24/7. It’s free and confidential.
· National Sexual Assault Hotline – 1-800-656-4673
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Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
