Violated And Yet Feeling The Shame That Isn’t Yours
Do you have a flee, freeze, or fight response?
I got on the bus leaving the church feeling so good. The preaching was just on point — healing, empowering, and nourishing. It was Sunday and I felt God had given me exactly what I needed to get through the week.
“Hello?” I turned to the speaker. He was a deacon in the church responsible for welcoming members at the church door. He always had a warm welcome for me every time he saw me approaching.
“Oh, hi,” I said, returning a warm smile. He stood behind me.
There was nothing else we had to talk about and so, as the church bus kicked off its journey, my mind began to wander. Maybe I was still thinking of the church sermons, maybe I was planning my week…Maybe,
Didn’t matter.
What mattered was what I was feeling on my buttocks. It was unbelievable — well, to me. I just couldn’t…didn’t want to believe it, and yet.
Slowly, I turned and looked from the face of the man to his boner sticking into my buttocks. I cannot even tell you what I saw in his eyes because there were tears in mine.
Like how? What was happening right now?
My heart was beating faster. The world seemed silent. And I was forcing the tears not to drop from my eyes. I felt dirty and violated all at once.
Guess what I did next?
Nothing. Yup. Absolutely nothing. I turned back my head and tried not to breathe or think about anything.
The bus kept moving.
And the boner stayed.
Guess why I did nothing in that moment?
I felt somehow, it was my duty to protect the dignity of this elderly man who always had a smile for me and welcomed me into church on Sundays. I took on the shame that was that man’s.
Yup. I will not change my answer because that was exactly what my mind told me in that moment of deep violation.
Did that man care? Had he done it to others? Will he do it to more people? Was it my proper clothes attire? Why did I not raise a ruckus — the evidence was standing right there…
In that moment, I thought none of those things. My mind was blank.
Then the bus stopped. I got off.
I took one last look at the man’s face as the bus pulled away.
I still felt nothing.
But I have never been back again — not to the bus and not to the church.
Thank you for reading. While reading this piece by Yana Bostongirl and I thought to share my story. This was also triggered by another Medium writer who shared a piece talking about feeling shame over being touched inappropriately in India.
Due to the conditioning and training we women receive in our society, it feels like the shame in these situations is ours to feel. This and worse is the reality for many women and it transcends country and culture.
I have a freeze response in the face of extreme stress. When the situation passes, that is often when I find my tongue or my feet. Maybe it is the same for you, maybe it isn’t. Whatever the case is, I want you to remember this —
The shame is misplaced. The shame isn’t yours to feel. You were deeply violated by an evil human. The shame and punishment is theirs and theirs alone.
We have so much more to talk about, so please subscribe to my email list, and because my country is excluded from the partnership program, I would also appreciate a cup of coffee. Thank you.
