Editor’s Note: For privacy and safety concerns, the identity of individuals named in “Loud,” the nonfiction recurring column about sexual violence, have been changed, including the name of the writer. “Loud” is the true story of a St. George resident’s experiences of sexual assault; therefore, each column will come with a trigger warning.
Do you know that feeling when something is so loud, it creates a physiological response in your body that’s impossible to ignore?
It can happen at the front railing of a concert, when the bass from the speaker above you is pounding so deep you can’t see straight, and you feel the pressure of the vibrations infiltrate your core. Even with earplugs, it becomes increasingly harder to ignore.
It’s invasive.
Or, it can happen with a loud crash, pop or bang. It’s a sound so loud that can leave ringing in your ears that lasts longer than you’d hope.
That’s kind of how my story is.
This is the story of how I teetered on a tightrope that was my girlhood, and how I fell far when in one single night, I lost control of my body, my autonomy, my memory, and my dignity.
I don’t tell my story lightly. In fact, this is only the very beginning of my healing process. The noise inside of me has kept quiet for the past six years, for the most part, only manifesting in symptoms I frequently dismissed or still haven’t addressed yet.
It was a noise I quieted, shamefully, for years. Looking back on my adolescence, it’s becoming more clear how and where that shame was planted.
So I’m going on this journey. Right. Now.
Each month, I’ll discuss all the events that broke me, all the lovers and dear friends who are trying to fix me, and what’s working and not working as I try to fix myself.
My hope, first of all, is that sharing my story will help harbor a culture in Southern Utah and beyond in which people feel empowered to share their stories. A culture in which victims continue to turn into survivors.
Secondly, I hope to find out more about myself, more about my trauma, more about how it’s affected me, and more about how I can move on.
Now that we have introductions out of the way, let’s start removing stigmas. Let’s get a local dialogue going.
In the wake of realizing how I’ve constantly put others’ needs before my own, how I have a hard time saying “no,” and how I’m continually looking for a balance in my femininity in a world where some believe being a woman somehow makes you worth less, I’m more empowered now than I’ve ever been.
Zoey Schumer, although not her real name, lives in St. George and is SUC Magazine’s content strategist. Do you have anything you’d like to say to her, or any tips you’re itching to share? Contact her at zoeyschumer@gmail.com.