No Longer Alone
On Friday of this week — two days before International Women’s Day — the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario will reprimand me and declare that I am a disgrace to the profession of medicine. They are doing this because they have accused me of “sexually abusing” the serial predator who raped and terrorized me and several other women that I know. I will be expected to stand in silence while they shame me publicly.
Just like the public shamings of old, this one is meant to be a spectacle and anyone is welcome to come out and watch. My abuser enjoys a cruel show, so I am expecting that he will make the effort to be there.
Over the past two and a half years, I’ve worked incredibly hard to recover from everything that man did to me. I’ve been diligently going to therapy twice a week, I’ve spent hundreds of hours challenging myself with yoga, and I’ve also done a great deal of soul searching. I’d like to think that I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been.
But the truth is that I’m also scared. I’m afraid of my abuser and I’m afraid of the College. I’m afraid that both of them will forever find a way to overpower and silence me. Honestly, when I think about having to stand there while the College’s panel delivers their reprimand, it’s hard not to feel incredibly alone and vulnerable all over again, just like when my abuser would hit me in those dark motel rooms.
But I try to tell myself that I’m not alone because a lot of other people have walked in some version of my shoes. It’s easy to silence a victim who is isolated. Shame, abuse, and violence are incredibly powerful weapons. But so is the truth, when it’s given a chance. This has been proven by the many women who have come forward to tell their stories in the wake of #MeToo and #TimesUp. I’ve found motivation and inspiration from these women and I want to thank you for letting me share my own story with you. I hope that you will keep reading because I have a lot more to tell.
Over the past several weeks a lot of people have reached out to offer support, prayers, and empathy. Some have also shared their own similar experiences with me, and I have been deeply moved by their vulnerability and strength. Some have taken a considerable risk by reaching out.
In the year that I lived under my abuser’s direct control and violence I could not have felt more alone and afraid. Now, a few years later, I still feel fear. But I am no longer alone. Thank you to each of you who are standing with me in your own way and as much as you can. It is very meaningful to me. I am committed to working to make things better for women, girls, and all survivors of gender-based violence.
