As I reflect on my womanhood, International Woman's Day felt like the right time to share my #metoo story. Because this is a day to celebrate women and their stories today I really start my rape recovery by sharing mine.
It's crazy how the brain's defense mechanisms are so astute. So sophisticated are the inner workings of the mind that I managed to convince myself for 6 years that I wasn't raped.
Until 3 weeks ago.
3 weeks ago I had gone to Cape Town for a pitch to be part of a women empowerment event. It was a surreal moment to watch a room full of incredible women moved to tears by your love-centric, spiritually driven ideas on storytelling. I was on a high and as I waited for my flight at Mugg & Bean. I suddenly remembered Psalm Isadora, a Sanskrit (feminine energy) Master and healer of sexual wounding. I thought she would be an amazing speaker at the women empowerment event we where a part of. When I looked her up I found, shockingly that she had committed suicide.
Upon reading her incredible story of healing from molestation and sex addiction and how she helped 10's of 1000's of people do the same I discovered that Bi-Polar was what took her in the end.
It gave me an idea to have a healing center at the event for women who have frightening realizations while attending the event. Then, in a single moment God downloaded this very simple sentence that changed everything.
"You can't get black out drunk from 1 shot of tequila"
Six years ago I was sitting in Braamfontien after a business meeting me and Mukundi, my business partner had had. A handsome, well dressed gentlemen sat next to us and we had a laughter-filled conversation about sandwiches and the city. He left his card as he thanked us for the great conversation and left. When we asked for our bill the waiter informed us that the gentleman in the white shirt paid it. I was impressed.
I called him to thank him and we started talking about grandmothers, his son, my business and weekends. He invited me over to his house that weekend and I asked if he was having a braai or something. He said no it would just be the 2 of us. I politely declined and he got REALLY upset about that. Red flag number 1.
Two days later he called me saying his friend from America was in town and would I join them for lunch at Vilakazi Street on Sunday. I dropped off my car at the friends hotel in Sandton and off we went on a quiet Sunday afternoon.
In the car he "jokingly" says, "today I'm going to get you". I felt a discomfort in my stomach. Red flag number 2.
We arrive and I order water and dish up tripe and dombolo from the buffet. With plate in hand I find a shot of taquila waiting for me at the table. I decline but the boys insist that they cant have their shots without me. How sweet. Down the hatch it goes.
Then complete radio silence.
I wake up naked in the hotel room startled by the stirrings of someone next to me. He too was naked, it was still dark outside and he was getting dressed. I ask what happened and he tells me in a "you don't remember?" tone that we had many shots, danced, came back to the hotel and had sex. He tells me to sleep and leave when I'm ready to.
I wake up alone in the 2 bedroom hotel room. I get dressed and look for me my phone for 2 hours. I notice that the other room had no luggage. I brush it off. I finally find my phone in the towel cabinet with the battery taken out. In that moment I ask myself. "Was i just" I don't even finish the sentence. Immediately my brain goes, "you got drunk like you always do and had sex with another stranger." And that was that. I didn't need anymore adjudication on the matter, the case was closed for 6 years. I even tried to manufacture a relationship with this person for a year and half, obviously trying to legitimize what my unconscious already knew.
So there I am, in the middle of Mugg and Bean finally feeling the full weight of it all. The word rape kept involuntarily stabbing into my awareness the moment I tried to forget. That same day I told my best friend Kutwano and my fiance my story.
I was genuinely grateful I discovered this when I did as I would have completely internalized the rape as a confirmation of my worthlessness. I started praying for him, sending him love an light. But I didn't do the same for myself. I thought to myself, "I'm fine, I'm not going to let this victimize me, I'm doing the course in Miracles, I'm a bad ass." I was far from fine as I would find out.
This past weekend I drank 2 liters of wine and almost jumped out of a moving car with my 2 year old in my arms because I was enraged. I've never ever felt such fury in my life all because I demanded that my fiance stop the car at 2 am to help me with the seat belt. When he gently said I was drunk and that we would be home soon I lost my marbles. I kicked him while he was driving and opened the door saying I don't want to go home with him. I threw Mali in his arms and jumped out. With our baby in his arms he tried to convince me to come back in the car. I screamed louder than my body has ever allowed, saying it's all my fault it happened and they'll be better off with out me. All the way home from Zoo Lake to Houghton I had the door open, ready to jump out into the darkness and disappear. I woke up still seething (and drunk) but once the alcohol evaporated I felt an overwhelming guilt.
I scared myself so much. Mostly because I honestly believed I was fine. I had become so proficient in emotional espionage that I didn't even feel the background data draining me of my sanity. I didn't realize that I was enraged with me and hadn't forgiven myself, that there was nothing to forgive as a course in miracles says.
So now I am on the slow and steady journey of rape recovery and self forgiveness. Because I know well enough that if I don't prioritize getting right within, I will let rape win.
