I saw my abuser in person in court. Obviously. And I’m reflecting on that.
That man, that human being, wants nothing to do with me now, except maybe to harm me and get me off his back as I’ve shouted his ugly truth to the world.
And for a time in our lives, that human being was in my life. We had hugged, our bodies had touched or brushed against each other. And his body had pinned me down as he had his dog attack me. He had used his legs to wrap around my chest and squeeze so hard I couldn’t breathe.
As I sat in that courtroom and looked at him, since he sat in our row across the aisle, I was looking at his hands. Those hands that hurt so much. I was looking at his hands and thinking about what they did to Kirby that day. The horrible, horrible things he did with those hands. Unspeakable things.
But there he was, just sitting there. Fiddling his fingers and crossing them as he sat in that courtroom bench. He wasn’t actively harming with those hands. But the harm they have done resonates.
And that brings me to thinking about PTSD. My PTSD. Looking at my abuser didn’t make me feel anything. Not fear, just… an awareness. Of who he is, what he was to me and my life, what he did to me and my life.
I looked at him as I read my Victim Impact Statement. He didn’t once look at me, that I saw. In fact, I’m pretty sure every time I’ve been at court, he avoids looking at me. And there is POWER in that. Sit with that for a second. My abuser avoids looking at me. Amazing.
So looking at my abuser and his hands that have done unspeakable things that have caused me PTSD, I wasn’t triggered. It’s just an awareness of what they are and what they mean. The triggers come from the places, the moments that are similar to and remind me of the trauma I survived. That I experienced. It’s interesting, PTSD.
But it did feel powerful to stand up there and look at my abuser as I recounted the horrible things he did to us. To know that even though he didn’t look at me and was talking to his attorney as I spoke, he heard me. He had to. He stood there and listened, faced, all the evil he is and has done.
That is power. I am power. Wow.
Sarah's Story 