Sharing But Still Holding Back

Several days ago, I shared an experience that happened to me when I was a young lawyer. Although it wasn't the worst experience of my life, it was difficult to write about and post publicly. I really worried about how it might be received, how people might judge or see me differently, and whether it might somehow be damaging to others to read it if they had similar experiences. In that sense it was a very frightening thing for me to do and took some courage.

That having been said, even though it wasn't easy, it's important for me to point out that there are reasons why I was able to speak openly about that particular event, including:

• It was a single incident; therefore, it wasn't complicated to describe, and didn't require lengthy explanations or autobiographical information;
• It involved someone who was and remains a stranger to me; therefore, I didn't need to fear damaging any existing relationships or risking retaliation or confrontation. Nor did it require explaining complex relationship or family dynamics and histories;
• I was an adult when it happened; therefore, I'm better able (both emotionally and cognitively) to recall and describe what happened;
• Although I made a couple choices during the experience that caused me to feel guilt and shame afterwards, and although I didn't react the way some people might believe a person in that situation should when it was happening (no crying, pleading, yelling, kicking, hitting, or scratching in defence of myself), I did manage to struggle and was ultimately successful in doing so (something that I know very well isn't always possible. Sometimes in those situations, regardless of how strong and smart we are, our defences fail us entirely. I know that I just happened to be lucky on that particular day that I was able to some extent to react in a way that assisted me and that the outcome wasn't as bad as it could have been); and
• It was, unfortunately, by no means an uncommon experience. I have no doubt that a lot of women, including those in positions of power and influence, can relate to finding themselves in a similar situation as a result of making a few spur-of-the-moment decisions to trust the wrong person. Whether they would say so openly or not, I am certain that many others could tell a similar tale. My whole point in sharing the story wasn't to suggest something unique about me but to speak up about a vulnerability that I'm quite confident many around me have experienced (including professionals, such as lawyers). I therefore knew in advance that I wasn't alone. In this sense, with respect to that incident, I didn't feel the need to explain any of my particular vulnerabilities and history to account for how things unfolded.

Also, although there are some ways in which I don't come from privilege, there are many ways in which I very much benefit from it, which have no doubt assisted me in getting to a place where I could feel able to share some small part of my history. Although I was genuinely scared to share it, that fear was mitigated by a variety of factors that include the considerable privilege I now have as a white lawyer in my 15th year of call (albeit female and still impacted by past experiences of trauma and disadvantage).

I just wanted to make sure I acknowledged the above points because there are experiences of victimization and/or trauma that are a lot more difficult to share, and we should never assume that a lack of visibility means a particular kind of trauma doesn't exist among us. As I've said many times before (for example, to some extent here), for more complex, stigmatized types of trauma and trauma suffered by those who have far more reason to be fearful of the sharing process, the onus is on all of us to carefully listen for those stories and also actively create the conditions in which they can more comfortably be shared (which means making the effort to address existing stigma, prejudice, and other barriers, including systemic ones, that stand in the way of those stories being communicated and heard).

So in my mind, it was an exercise in sharing but at the same time was very deliberately a demonstration of holding back. And sometimes what we need to learn from the silence is even more important than what we can learn from what's shared...

As always, please note that I am a lawyer, not a mental health professional of any kind. I have no expertise in trauma or mental health. Also, please note that any opinions and views expressed in this blog are solely my own and are not intended to represent the views or opinions of my employer in any way. For more information about the purpose of this blog, please see here and for a bit more information about my personal perspective on this issue, please see "my story" here

I am very grateful to have received a "Clawbie" Award for this blog (which reflects the importance of this topic): https://www.clawbies.ca/2019-clawbies-canadian-law-blog-awards/

For some of my external writing on this topic, see:  

• https://www.canadianlawyermag.com/news/opinion/a-more-inclusive-discussion-on-the-impact-of-trauma-on-lawyers-mental-health-is-needed/276166 
• https://www.cbabc.org/BarTalk/Articles/2020/February/Features/Speaking-Up-About-Trauma-and-Mental-Health    
• https://www.canadianlawyermag.com/news/opinion/changing-the-conversation/326240