(I know that that doesn’t sound great, grammatically, but… It says what I want to say more than the grammatically correct version)
One of the most important things neglected in the quest to “survive” rape is the taking back of one’s power.
Many have (in my opinion) misguided opinions about pain. It is not the enemy. It’s not your friend either–stop it with that pseudo-deep, better-than nonsense. Pain has its utility. Don’t hate it or get comfortable cuddling it. Use it. Discard it when its expiry date has come.
Some things will be painful no matter how deep you are; how eloquently you can reason things into being (or not being) and no matter how much it “shouldn’t” actually hurt. You can’t dictate to your pain. Sorry. You can deny it. Publicly. But you can’t deny it to yourself. You can’t tell it what to do. You can only tell yourself how to grow. That’s all.
In order to “survive” rape, you have to take your power back–that power that the rapist took (or tried to take) from you. This involves indulging your pain. Feel what you feel; what you WANT to feel. Be angry and tearful and unstable when you need to. Just remember not to hold on to those feelings when you no longer need them. Don’t get comfortable with then. Use them. Then discard them, always.
When you’ve taken your right (or power) to feel and be and hurt and hate, that’s when you can take your power to care less and less everyday back. That’s when you can strip him of his power to hurt you and look him in the face and not squirm or be afraid.
Your tears are power.
All of your rage and all of your angst is your right; to let them be and exist without guilt is power. Self-censorship is power stolen–by him. I don’t mean you must talk publicly about your pain but you MUST talk about it. People have different methods of healing and taking their power back but silence is almost definitely not one of them.
Take your power back… with tears and anger… with blood and swearing. And, in no time, you’ll find him ranting about how he’s a victim and you won’t even care enough to raise your eyes, let alone your voice. It’ll be a moment you’ll want to dance through. And a while after that–you won’t even notice him.