Transcriber: DELETED DELETED Reviewer: Tanya Cushman
We all have a story that is made and molded to each of us.
These stories have chapters of love and hardships, successes and loss.
And these stories, they may all be different,
but the feelings of hurt and happiness can all be the same.
The decisions you make and the situations you go through in life
can cause a ripple effect.
And that effect can add a link to the chain,
and that chain can slowly shackle you down.
My story starts at a young age as an obese child longing to be accepted.
I will never forget the words of an eighth grade teacher:
"If you eat one less meal a day, you will lose weight."
So, I took a meal out.
And in my mind, this was the answer to my prayers.
As an overweight child,
I continuously struggled with getting picked on for my weight.
I never had boys ask me out.
I rarely had girlfriends to have slumber parties with.
I always wanted to be a cheerleader, but I wouldn’t dare put on that uniform.
And sports? Let’s be honest.
I was more concerned with the uniform colors and picking flowers in the fields,
but I really tried.
I was willing to make any changes necessary
in order to feel accepted.
And for me, that change came in the form of an eating disorder.
Now the more weight I lost, the more recognition I received.
It was working.
People started talking to me and liking me,
so I just kept losing weight.
I truly thought I had it under control.
I never would’ve imagined it would get out of hand
or that something would happen to me to cause it to become more severe.
But I was slowly putting myself into shackles
that would take years to unlock.
Now growing up, my parents were incredibly supportive of me.
They always told me to be whatever I wanted to be.
So, my senior year,
I was accepted into the American Musical and Dramatic Academy
in New York City.
And it was a dream come true.
But my mom, for some reason, really seemed to struggle with it.
And I wasn’t sure if it was because of the distance
since we were so close
or because of my weight since it was getting so low.
But then she said to me,
"If you go to New York, you’re going to get raped."
Fast-forward to 2018.
I was standing in front of a room of women who were longing for change,
feeling broken and alone.
These women were self-conscious and did not see the beauty they possessed.
They hated the bodies they lived in.
Some of these women experienced sexual abuse,
used and violated by those closest to them.
They were continuously beaten down
mentally, physically, emotionally, sexually,
and then some masked the pain with drugs and alcohol
and then became sucked and trapped in this terrible addiction.
They were carrying a substantial set of shackles
that were only getting heavier.
And these women, they were growing tired.
I did not find a rare group of women.
It’s actually a lot more common than people may think.
According to the American Psychological Association,
approximately one half, 50%, of individuals
will experience at least one traumatic event in their lifetime.
On top of that, 8% of those survivors will experience PTSD,
and that number is doubled for women.
And it is important for us to realize that trauma does not only stem
from being a soldier in a war or the victim of rape.
Trauma encompasses many other acts that can be far too common in our lives,
from domestic violence to chronic emotional abuse from a significant other.
And research studies show that victims of these offenses
experience higher levels of depression, anger, anxiety, irritability,
relational problems, nightmares,
and in some cases suicide.
Many of these, they deal with in silence
because of the shame surrounding the event prevents them from seeking support.
These women, they all have a different story.
They all have a different set of shackles binded to them,
just longing for something to unlock them.
I wanted to show these women love and acceptance.
So I started these classes in the community,
and the women, they all started to look up to me for the answers.
And in one of our pre-classes, the women really started to open up
and share about their struggles -
and I always participate in listening and leading the discussion -
when one of the women raised her hand
and she looked right at me, and she said,
“Who are you to know anything about what it’s like to struggle?
You have a perfect life.”
I froze, and I wanted to say, “What are you talking about?"
There were so many things I wanted to say, and I also wanted to cry.
But I didn’t. I held it together,
took a few breaths,
and I said,
“I have been through my own trauma in my life."
This is a moment I never thought would happen.
As public of a person as I may be, I’m extremely private.
I had plenty of secrets that I hid.
I was a professional business woman
and did not want to be known by these wounds that I hid from the world.
But it didn’t matter,
because at that moment, I needed these women to see
that I was walking with them, hand in hand,
not above them.
I needed them to see that behind this all, I too felt pain.
Though it may not be the same pain as theirs, it was my pain.
It was my story. And it is my story to tell.
I had my own shackles,
shackles full of self-doubt and hatred for my body,
cuffs formed from an eating disorder that just shattered my dreams
and crumbled them all down to the bare bones
and a firm lock that proved my mother was right after all.
That violating attack in New York that my own mother predicted
actually happened to me.
I shut down; I chose to not tell a soul.
My under-control eating disorder soon spiraled out of control,
forcing me to leave my dream in New York City.
I was then shoved into treatment,
and my once perfect world came crashing, out of control.
And my shackles were then locked by what became my huge secret.
And they only got heavier as I kept the silence.
The silence killed me.
Three whole years after that violating attack,
I attempted suicide.
Let me tell you, I did not want to die.
I just wanted these flashbacks and these nightmares to end.
And it was the only thing that I could think of in my mind -
to just end it all.
And it was then, when I was lying in the hospital bed, that my mom knew.
She looked right at me, and she said,
“You were raped in New York, weren’t you?”
A moment of peace surrounded me
as I finished sharing this story with this group of women.
Tears streamed down many of their faces,
thank you’s were muttered,
smiles,
and a sense of softness came over them.
And suddenly,
I had this unspoken connection of sisterhood with all of them.
I also had this newfound peace
within myself.
And it was then that I discovered storytelling
as a powerful tool to cope with my trauma.
What I didn’t go into detail about
at that moment
was what happened after these events.
How did I move forward in my life
and not allow all of that past trauma to consume and paralyze me?
Don’t get me wrong.
There were many days that I did not feel worthy
or as if wearing these massive shackles had become my new norm.
But the key to finally releasing those chains
and breaking free from all of that past trauma
came from someone else sharing their story with me,
and I did not realize the relation until way later.
But that person is my mom.
Though her story is very different than mine,
it made me realize that if she could get through struggles
and live a beautiful life, I can too.
I gained a new ambition to start focusing on myself
and to change my life to mean more.
I started to feel strong and connected with this world around me,
knowing I was not alone on this journey.
My shackles continuously were loosening and slowly unlocking,
and they allowed me to live my life
beyond the burdens of my history and the traumas of my past.
Since then, my life has gone down many different paths.
Some of those paths have been better than others.
But all of those paths led me to opportunities,
which brought me in front of those women,
where I shared my story.
Speaking my truth that day also showed me
how shared experiences are so powerful.
In this program, we had many other women who opened up
and shared about the struggles they endured.
And many of them,
they’d rather continue in their norm and the hell they are living in
rather than jumping through the flames of unknown to a better life.
Because their norm is all they know.
So encouraging these women to jump through the flames,
to unlock their shackles,
comes from them not feeling alone,
having a voice,
and wanting to find their full self-worth.
One of the women who graduated our first class
came back to become a leader, second year.
Since a young age, Kerry endured every type of abuse you can imagine.
Even in her marriage this abuse followed.
After finally finding a way out and struggling through a nasty separation,
things took a drastic turn.
While she was working as a nurse,
Kerry received a call that would change her life forever.
After several missed calls and text messages,
Kerry was informed by her sister-in-law that her ex had plans to kill her
and their two boys.
Kerry’s work and the boys’ schools went on complete lockdown.
Police later found her ex with a trunk full of ammunition and guns.
Kerry has lived in constant fear
since that day.
The psychological toll of that traumatic event and years of abuse
caused Kerry to lose the job that she loved so much.
Now Kerry shared this along with much more of her story.
She's since used her voice to help others and has turned her pain into her passion.
Through this, Kerry’s shackles have been slowly unlocking.
Kerry said,
"I have found it helps me heal by sharing my story.
If I can help one person, it was worth it."
I can see the changes in those I talk to,
their confidence in themselves
and understanding it is not their fault.
I tell them, "You are not alone."
No one carries the same set of shackles,
but sharing my story personally has helped so many of them,
just as my mom’s story helped me
and Kerry’s story continues to help so many others.
Psychology Today states
that sharing our story with someone we trust
can help lift the feelings of shame
that remain in the aftermath of a traumatic event,
as we are oftentimes left blaming ourselves for the outcome.
It can make the constant memories associated with the event
less intense and less troubling
so they slowly stop holding us down.
It can reshape the meaning which we apply to our story,
reminding us we are not weak prey,
but instead, we are powerful survivors who deserve so much better.
This is the process I slowly watched unfold
as these women opened up and shared their story.
Much of the women’s healing comes from the realization that they are not alone.
To see someone overcome so many struggles in their life and become successful
gives them hope that they too can accomplish the same exact thing.
Public movements like the Me Too campaign -
very powerful.
Though sharing your story does not need to be as public as the Me Too movement,
everyone needs to find their own individual way
of sharing their story that is true to them,
whether it’s mentoring, joining advocacy organizations,
getting involved in support groups,
or sharing your story with a friend or a family member who's struggling,
one on one.
Because there’s something extra special about sharing your story in person
and connecting on that emotional level,
just like the sense of sisterhood I experienced
when I finished sharing my story.
I didn’t realize it right away,
but sharing my experiences also gave me a new sense of freedom.
We thought that the shackles of our trauma were permanent,
just longing for something to make them different.
But I’ve discovered that sharing your story
is the powerful key that unlocks the shackles
not only for those around us but also for ourselves.
This is my story, and I’ve given you the key.
Thank you.
(Applause)