Listening

Our stories have value. They are essential parts of us and no one can take them. We own them outright.

I feel I can never stress enough the importance of telling our stories, especially on a deep level. Telling our story is difficult to say the least and painful to share. We are reaching into the innermost parts of our hearts and taking a risk. We are entrusting the listener with our core secrets.

Next to telling our story, listening to someone tell theirs is difficult.

Two are better than one because they will have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift  up his companions. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up. Ecclesiastes 3:16.

One of the greatest things about the group I am part of is the connection formed the first night. We do not become best friends immediately but we have the blessing of realizing we are not alone. A new person the group will be welcomed and reassured she is not alone; her feelings are validated in a way a person who has not been abused cannot. It is priceless. We need each other. We understand each other. We are fighting the same war. This applies to everyone, not just survivors in a group. Any support system needs to be nurtured, whether it is just two people or twelve.

When my group is asked who is ready to read their story the room will go silent and we will all shift our eyes to each other, silently willing another to make the first move. There is almost a visible sigh of relief when another member volunteers. Relief is short lived.

When stories are read to the group the connection is reinforced by listening. If you are really listening, a deeper understanding of the reader takes place. A mixture of anger, empathy, and love run through the heart. Anger that it happened, empathy as you feel the story with them, and love for a person you now understand on a deeper level. There is also a sense of gratitude. I am grateful to all who have trusted me with their story. It is an honor.

Really listening to someone tell their story is difficult. It often triggers a certain memory for me. It can be a similar picture, assault, or a feeling. It takes a lot of effort to stay with them and not get lost in my own memories while they are reading. I need and want to stay focused on what they are saying. The storyteller is entrusting me with their secrets, secrets they have kept from others in their life. They are risking their hearts and counting on acceptance with each word read aloud. We have to be careful.  We need to let the reader know we are sorry it happened to them. We need to let them know their story is valuable. We need to make eye contact afterwards to show our appreciation for what they endured. Our responsibility is great. We are giving the survivor the undivided attention they never received when the abuse was happening. Their voice is being heard.

When we listen to a survivor’s story it is important to just listen. We cannot fix anything about their story. It can definitely increase our understanding of the person’s journey, but it is not our job to take the symptoms we see in their life, attach it to the story, and then point it out to them. There maybe a time for that later. I cannot stress how much we need to keep our mouths shut and listen. In my group, when a woman is reading her story you can hear a pin drop in the room. We allow her to take as much time as she needs to get it out. Words of encouragement are the only words spoken if she hesitates in the middle. It is unwritten rule created out of respect.

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, James 1:19.

Not all will have a group to share their story. There might be a time a friend is telling their story to me one on one. My brain may try to shutdown to protect itself from any memories or triggers that may surface, but I need to fight it, concentrate on the heart next to me. Undivided, positive attention is what we all need when we share. When the abuse was happening we were all wishing someone would listen. I am not sure about you, but even if I did not come right out and say it, I communicated the abuse when acting out, physical symptoms, or even just trying to communicate telepathically. A friend, counselor, or spouse really listening gives us what we needed during the abuse, a voice and a positive sense of value.

Dear friend, you are faithful in what you are doing for the brothers and sisters, even though they are strangers to you. 3 John 1:5