For a long time after enduring the trauma of a toxic workplace and an online smear campaign, I struggled with feeling like I didn’t have control over my own story and experience.
The individuals who perpetrated harm against me tried to control the narrative by publicly denying and distorting what really happened in the domain they created, stellareddy.com. The Site Created In My Name By Others: stellareddy.com
They gaslit me into believing that maybe I was the one in the wrong, or that my interpretation and memories of events were inaccurate. But through a long and difficult journey of healing, I’ve come to understand that as the survivor, I am the sole authority over my own experiences of abuse.
No one, not even my abusers, has any right to tell me how I’m allowed to feel about what happened or how I can discuss the abuse with others. The abuse was MY experience, so I get to define it on my own terms; however, I need to for my own recovery and well-being. When others try to control or undermine my story, that is a continuation of the same abuse and manipulation I went through initially.
For a long time, letting my abusers dictate the narrative left me feeling re-traumatized, silenced and uncertain about trusting my own perceptions. But I no longer feel comfortable giving anyone, especially my abusers, that kind of power over me ever again.
It took me such a long time and a lot of difficult inner work, but I finally feel comfortable owning my story. I am the only one who gets to say how certain encounters made me feel threatened, disrespected or emotionally unsafe. I am the only one who experiences the memories in my own mind, so I get to choose how to frame and describe those memories.
No one else lived through what I lived through, so no one has the right to tell me that my feelings and perceptions were invalid or inaccurate. The trauma bonds I formed with my abusers meant that for a long time, I doubted myself and prioritized making them comfortable over tending to my own well-being, but I realize now that letting them have control like that was never good or healthy for me.
The journey to this point of confidence in owning my story was a long one. I realized I couldn’t move forward until I faced the truth of what I went through – even when that truth was terrifying and difficult to accept. Going to therapy helped me start unwinding all the gaslighting, manipulation and distorted thinking I had taken on from my abusers. My therapist supported me in trusting my instincts, listening to myself and valuing my perceptions above all others.
Through therapy, I was able to start recognizing all the subtle ways my story and experience had been controlled, denied and undermined over time. I saw how my abusers worked to discredit and isolate me from sources of support. They tried to turn friends and colleagues against me by painting me as an unstable, problematic person.
Anytime I brought up feeling unsafe or disrespected, I was shut down, intimidated into silence or even retaliated against professionally. My own managers started to micromanage my actions and demanded that I send all correspondence to them first for review before issuing.
All of this was designed to make me question myself and keep me from speaking out about the abuse. But in therapy, I started to see these abusive patterns for what they were – not reflections of my own flaws or inadequacies like I had been led to believe, but deliberate tactics to undermine my autonomy and confidence.
As I continued working through things, I also spent a lot of time journaling, meditating and doing inner child work. All of this helped me connect more deeply with myself; my own perceptions, feelings and needs separate from anyone else’s expectations or dismissals.
As cheesy as it may sound, I did a lot of talking to and comforting my inner wounded child. That vulnerable inner part of me had been through so much pain, fear and self-doubt due to the abuse. By nurturing her with compassion, I started building myself back up from the inside out, no longer letting space in my psyche be reserved for my abusers’ control or judgment.
Over time, as I filled myself back up through self-care, mindfulness practices and compassionate self-talk, I gained more clarity and confidence. I could see with open eyes how warped the thinking of my abusers truly was. I saw that their need to distort realities, deny wrongdoings, and control narratives came from their own inner brokenness and lack of accountability, not any actual defects in me or my experience.
Once I stopped trying to understand them, I found freedom. I no longer had to subject myself to secondary abuse by entertaining their demands to control what I say or believe about how they hurt me.
That brings me to where I am now – empowered to take back the reins of my story as its rightful owner. I trust myself to discuss my experiences truthfully, from the perspectives that serve my healing process. No one alive knows my experience like I do. I alone get to gauge how certain situations made me feel unsafe or disrespected.
I choose how to frame what living through trauma taught me about myself, my boundaries and my needs from the world. If sharing details in a certain light helps encourage or inspire others, so be it.
Ultimately, my role is to steward my story in a way that nourishes my recovery journey and preserves my mental well-being. Everything else comes second to honouring myself after surviving abuse.
Abusers want to haunt survivors forever by stealing away our authority over our own narratives. But we regain power each time we claim that authority as rightfully ours. And I hope that any other survivors reading find encouragement in knowing they have that same right – to redefine and control their stories as they see fit without anyone’s permission or approval.
Our truths, and our paths to heal them, belong to us alone.