This is an intro into what I imagine to become a series of things I write about the topic of "Acceptance" - may be quite controversial - but just my way of understanding and making sense of what I'm finding a complicated stage.
I don’t think you can ever ‘accept’ that you have been sexually assaulted and raped. For me, a better fit word is ‘embrace’. Or ‘adapt’. Because that’s a more accurate description of what you do – you learn new ways to manage the ongoing effects of the trauma. You begin bravely stepping out into the world again with a new perspective of life. A perspective of life that is carefully framed by the night of what happened, it doesn’t go away fully, but it’s a brave step nevertheless. You’re embracing. You’re adapting.
‘Acceptance’ just feels a bit meaningless to attach to what this brave step feels like. I think that it gives the notion of settling and agreeing that something bad has happened to you. You’re succumbing to the experience. Which, yes, is of course what you do need to do in some ways. You do have to agree that the traumatic thing happened – You can’t uphold that avoidance forever.
However, there’s something about the word acceptance that just doesn’t describe it right. It’s maybe too belittling?
The definition of acceptance is:
The action of consenting to receiving or undertake something offered.
That just doesn’t fit for me.
What 'acceptance' actually is, is something very very real. That might sound odd, but I really mean it. It does just feel very real. I’ve spent so many months in a protective bubble of dissociation – the daydream that distanced me from feeling or attaching myself to memories of the night; Months of pushing away their tugs for attention. Almost a ‘limbo’ period in comparison to the ‘realness’ of re-attaching myself now in this ‘acceptance’ phase.
This is the realness of ‘acceptance’ to me:
‘Acceptance’ is being out at sea. Pulled out into the still and calm. Bathing in the warm glimmer of the sun’s reflection, squinting your eyes in that comforting relaxed way as you take a big deep breath out. But then a wave works up its energy to pick you up, reminding you of the reality of what happened and crashes against you. Pulling you in different directions. You are getting on with things, you're coping - but also you remember. Vividly. You’re pulled under water.
‘Acceptance’ feels like the shadow of the night comes over you like a dark cloud. It clings to your sides. It engulfs you. You become characterised by the night. You carry it round with you each day.
But what if you embraced it. That feels like a better shift.
Embracing to me feels like it better defines the work and effort that goes into reflecting, attaching and adapting yourself to the new life with this experience now in it.
If I were to embrace it, I would let the shadow turn into a blown up balloon let go before it’s tied. Whizzing around the room, deflating and squealing as it flies around the perimeter of the room. No control over itself until it’s finally defeated into a pathetic lifeless piece of rubber on the floor.
If I were to embrace it, I would imagine a montage of all my ‘life’s best bits’, played against a carefully selected soundtrack. I’d hold it in my mind like a shield - huge, and light-lit in the face of the shadow. Maybe it can burn the shadow away, distancing it from me. I’m safe.
I think my point here is that clearly I have an issue with the word 'acceptance'. But mainly, that I think the language used can sometimes feel empty or mismatched to the experience it’s trying to attach itself to.
Here I think 'acceptance' belittles the experience of agreeing that a traumatic thing happened to you. It gives the notion of an end point. Maybe a joyful end point. And that’s not completely wrong. There are elements of light.
But by embracing – you acknowledge the element of battle still. The bad rides alongside the good. You aren’t always fully submerged, but it’s still in the periphery. By embracing, you're applauding the efforts to get to this point - which hasn't been easy. That's validating.
In essence, I feel like I’m learning to walk again in what feels like a brand new world to me. A brand new world that I’m bravely stepping out into with my new perspective clung tightly to me. That can feel terrifying. But at the same time, I should be allowed to feel empowered and in control of that – I should be able to embrace that experience as I move forward.
I won’t settle to just accept.
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