#ididnotreport

"Sister, Sister what have they done to you? Sister, Sister where will you go? Sister, Sister come to the temple. Sister, Sister Artemis knows."

-Written by the Lady Yeshe Rabbit

 I feel moved to comment on the Twitter phenomenon of yesterday, at least in my feed. The hash tag "#ididnotreport". This happening, now, is exactly why I started this blog. This is meant to be safe space for these stories. This is a virtual temple. Tell Artemis your troubles.  I cannot fix it, I cannot end your suffering or your change your circumstance. I can function as a messenger, carrying your words to the Goddess and to the larger world, in a safe, anonymous way. I am a priestess, and this is how the Goddess has asked me to serve. The goal of feminism, the way I hope this movement is pointed, is starkly contrasted with the current direction of U.S. political discourse.  Watching yesterday's stream of intensity as other people shared their stories reminded me that I too had a story.  That I, too, had been silenced. Had experienced a lack of support, had been afraid to come forward.

I did not report.  I told friends, and they were visibly uncomfortable. Some wondered aloud "if it was so bad, why didn't you leave him sooner?" I was a 19 year old college freshman/sophomore with a shaved head and a need to prove myself.  I needed to not trouble my parents with my psychosis, because I had already broken my mother's heart reminding her of what happened when I was 6.  I did not report that either. This one was not on her watch. I did not report because I couldn't admit to myself I had screwed up.

 My best friend was a boy I am still close with, and when I told him, he decided to save the guy.  He took him to a catholic retreat, and they bonded over Christian mysticism, alchemy and hermeticism.  After that, my friend worked to continue their friendship, and I had to ask if he would be at the party before I could feel safe.  Even after I changed my schedule, I ran into him all over campus, and now he was a regular at the lunch table. My friend repeatedly told me, "it's not that he's a bad person," and talked about how his faith taught about forgiveness. I did not report because I wasn't believed.

I already had a reputation. I was respected by professors, but among friends I was thought of as wild or even easy. (I am a little of both, but that's my judgment to make. I will not apologize for being an enthusiastic lover of sex, flirting, and romance. These qualities are found charming in men.) Who would be my witnesses? I had finally settled down with one person, we had a ring, we enjoyed sex together often. No one else believed it was wrong. On any given night or morning, I should have had the right to say no, and I didn't. I would face emotional manipulation until I gave in. It was easy, my psychiatrist would report to my boyfriend all the time.  I was taking medication to control my suicidal tendencies. I had hallucinations. I went from wild and easy to perfectly tractable, controllable. I did not report because it's a long story.

My life is good now. I am quite sane, quite happily partnered and joyful most of the time. But I remember what really happened, and I remember that I felt very much alone. It is my hope that you'll read this with a steady eye and a compassionate heart. I am trying to lead by example in creating a safe container for scary truths. It is my hope that reading this will tell you that you are not alone, life can be better, and there are things you can do to feel better, get safe, be happy.

Now you know a bit about me, where I come from, and why I'm here. So, what is the project?

Tell me anything that could prove useful to another woman. Tell me your tragedies, yes, but also your victories.  Tell me how you got help.  Give me phone numbers for agencies that were good to you.  Tell me which bus lines are safe and which ones are trouble in your town. Tell me about what you are doing to help yourself, your families, your communities be safer.   I will witness for you.  I will pray for you at Artemis's altar.  I will publish your information, if I choose and if you allow it. I will keep all identifying information confidential, but also give credit if requested. This is meant to be a collaborative blog, so submit stories, full articles, helpful tips and resources. I am sole editor, and will use and edit these submission as I see fit, although I will not embellish or heavily edit your voice or your content. Don't come here for flaming or trolling; the comments on this blog will be moderated and tightly controlled. I welcome submissions, questions and comments to walkingwithartemis@gmail.com.