I’m stepping away from this work. It’s not that the work is finished; the church is still unsafe for vulnerable people. Thankfully many survivors are now speaking their truth. When one of us needs to lay down the burden, others are ready to pick it up. I’ve worked alongside some of today’s most effective victims and survivors, and I can attest to the power of their work. I no longer have any hope in church, but I have hope in the leaders I’ve met.
As I work on healing from the trauma, I am grateful for friends who have helped me reflect on its meaning. “The gift of trauma,” I said to one of them last week, “is that it enables us to create safe spaces for others.” I know what it feels like to be deeply traumatized, to feel paralyzed by fear 24 hours a day, to find myself destroying friendships and alienating family members because I felt I couldn’t trust anyone. During this time, the only safety I had was the presence of other trauma survivors. When I felt crazy, they made me feel sane; when I felt broken, they made me feel I could put myself back together. Eventually I realized I was doing the same for them. Even when I was still a hot mess of impairment, I was helping others build a sense of safety. I will always be grateful for this double gift: the sense of safety I got from other survivors, and the blessing of knowing I was giving it in return.
With love and thanks to all who have supported me in five years of writing.