Having the platform of domestic violence in the pageant world raises a lot of questions from people. Usually in interview or on stage question, without a doubt I will be on the receiving end of some uncomfortable or unorthodox questions. However, lately I am trying to answer these questions from a place of compassion rather than immediately being defensive. I can understand the curiosity of someone who might not be familiar with survivors of domestic violence or domestic violence in general; I can also understand that if you haven’t been educated on what is and is not appropriate to ask survivors you will just blurt out whatever curiosities you have in hopes of better understanding. I know that these questions do not come from a place of malice, but I also know that as a survivor with a substantial platform it is my job to educate others. So, with that, here are a list of questions I’ve been asked that are on the “do not ask” list; and my personal answers to said questions, just to curb that curiosity that drives people to ask them.
Is it hard to talk about abuse and advocate to end domestic violence with the experiences that you have had?
While this question is not inherently harmful, it seems to have an obvious answer. Of course it’s hard. Why would it be easy? Survivors who come forward, especially in such a public format, are (unfortunately) willingly submitting themselves to questioning, ridicule, harassment, and assumptions in order to do what’s right and protect those around them. I’d also like to point out that it is never the survivors job to educate others on how to properly interact with other survivors. We are not training guides or introductory courses on domestic violence and survivor handling; we are living, breathing humans with trauma who are trying to navigate the world as best we can. While I will always take the time to educate others, not everyone has the capacity or the willingness to do so.
Now, as promised, here is my answer in hopes that it prevents this question from being asked again:
Yes. It is gut-wrenching and exhausting and extremely difficult. It takes a lot of strength and a lot of bravery to stand in front of an auditorium full of people that you don’t know and share your most intimate personal experiences. But, anything that is worth talking about is probably hard to talk about. It is imperative that people with platforms like mine speak up and speak out so that other people feel like they have that opportunity as well. The difficulty of telling and re-telling my story is nothing compared to the passion that i have to protect, educate, and positively impact others.
There are days when I go to appearances and speak about my story with strength and without a single tremor in my voice. There are days when I tell my story and my hands shake so hard the microphone can barely pick up my voice. There have been countless interviews where I have cried trying to speak about the things that I have experienced, and that does not make me weak. Sometimes I create videos for instagram and cry the minute I turn the camera off. Sometimes I get in my car after a meeting or a speech and have a panic attack purely from having the experience of reliving my abuse while I tell my story. All of these times my bravery was evident and unwavering.
I remember the minute that I realized that no one was coming to save me. Actually, I remember it to the second. I remember because even after I was free from my abuser I spent months holding my tongue, hoping and praying for the harassment from him and his friends to stop and for everything to be over. I remember being so afraid of the consequences of speaking out that I chose silence instead. And then I realize if he could do that to me, he could do that to someone else. I remember thinking that someone should say something. Someone should call him out. Someone should do it or else he will keep doing it without repercussions to every girl he meets.
Slowly I came to the conclusion that if anyone was going to do it, it had to be me. No one was going to advocate for me. No one was going to advocate for those other girls. No one was going to take a stand unless I did it myself. So that’s what I did. for better or for worse, on the good days or the hard days. I stood up, said enough is enough and told my story to the world.
After spending such an extensive time in silence, being afraid of the consequences of telling the truth, it is extremely freeing and and extremely healing to use my story for good to help others. Every time I share my passion for advocacy with the world, a piece of me heals and gets stronger. I am empowered by my experiences, not weakened by them. I have never been a victim of what happened to me, I became a warrior because of it and it is my greatest honor to be her.
I am hope and I am the future and I will continue to share my story and advocate even when it is hard because I know I have the power to create positive change.
