Dear Fellow Survivor Blog: Becoming Friends with Traumatized Me

Dear fellow survivor,

I am a big fan of the music of Andrew Peterson. One of my favorite songs of his is called “Be Kind to Yourself.” If you’re unfamiliar with the song, I encourage you to check it out. Or you can watch this other video, in which Andrew gives a little background on how he came to write the song.

In this song, Andrew sings, “How does it end when the war that you’re in is just you against you against you? You’ve got to learn to love, learn to love, learn to love your enemies too.”

Those words hit home for me recently.

It started as I was (as usual) contemplating my ongoing struggle with persistent, unwanted, and intrusive thoughts. Those thoughts, I knew, were untrue, meaningless, useless, and unworthy of any further contemplation. Yet, for all my resolve to live in the real world, for all my determination to choose joy, I still struggled not to become angry and frustrated whenever these thoughts asserted themselves. I had resolved that whenever I found myself comparing myself to another guy, whenever I was troubled by thoughts that I wished weren’t happening, I would recognize it, tell myself that everything was OK, and move on. But that didn’t seem to be enough. Something still seemed missing.

All this led me to wonder, “What if, instead of fighting with the part of me that still felt triggered by all this, I made friends with it?”

The next morning, as I was in the locker room getting ready to shower, a guy I’d previously felt threatened by returned from the shower. His name is T______. I can’t put his entire name here, but I still want to acknowledge that he has a name. He’s a real person, a whole person, not just a body part or some threat to my mental well-being. T______ is a great guy. I’ve talked with him before, which has helped me not feel so threatened by him. As T______ walked by wrapped in his towel, the part of me that I’ve been struggling with immediately went into action with the urge to look at him as he got dressed. I resisted that urge. I walked past him with my eyes averted and got in the shower.

As I stood in the shower, I was congratulating myself on that “win.” I hadn’t given in to the urge to look at T______ as he got dressed. I had defeated the part of me that had produced that unhealthy urge. That’s when it hit me. I was doing exactly what Andrew Peterson was singing about. I was making myself the enemy. I was fighting with myself.

The war that I’m in is not between me and the person who abused me. The war that I’m in is not between me and any of the guys who I’ve felt threatened by before. The war that I’m in isn’t even between me and the unhealthy thoughts and fascinations that have become so much a part of my psyche. The war I’m in has become me against me against me. It’s the New Me that so desperately wants to leave all this stuff behind versus the part of me that still is triggered, still is troubled, and struggles because it still has all these thoughts and urges that it doesn’t want to have.

As I continued to shower, I thought that if I was going to become friends with that part of me, I’d better have a name for it. I tried a few things: Faulty-brain-wiring Me. No, that casts that part of me as defective. That won’t help. Triggered Me. Ugh, no. Intrusive-Thoughts Me. No, that didn’t feel right either. Finally, I hit upon this: Traumatized Me. Immediately, I felt like crying. That was it. The war I’ve put myself in is between New Me in the real world and Traumatized Me, who still is around, still is a part of me, and probably will be a part of me for the rest of my life. How will it end if my life is an unending war between New Me and Traumatized Me? Not well.

I need to become friends with Traumatized Me.

All this reminds me of what I needed to do earlier in my journey as I worked to integrate into myself the Young Me that was stuck at the time of the abuse. At that time, Young Me still saw other men as threats to his physical safety. Going into the locker room was terrifying for Young Me. Previously, I had become angry and frustrated with Young Me and shamed him into doing what he felt was unsafe. That, of course, only made things worse. I needed to stop fighting with Young Me and instead take him by the hand and walk alongside him into that terrifying locker room. I had to assure him that he didn’t need to be afraid, that no one was going to abuse him anymore, that no matter how many other men were in the locker room with him, he was safe. I could not leave Young Me to fend for himself any longer. I had to take the time to walk alongside him and lovingly help him feel safe. Eventually, Young Me felt safe and no longer was afraid. Young Me is now integrated into me.

Now, I need to do that same thing with Traumatized Me. Traumatized Me still is fascinated with certain male body parts. Traumatized Me still feels the urge to look at other guys and compare himself to them. Traumatized Me still feels triggered by guys in gym shorts. Traumatized Me still is a part of me and will be a part of me for a long time, perhaps for the rest of my life. Previously, I’ve dealt with Traumatized Me by becoming angry and frustrated and shaming him into going into hiding. That has only made things worse. Now, instead of fighting him every time he asserts himself, I need to come alongside him, assure him that everything is OK, be his friend—not his adversary—and help him move on. I can’t leave him behind to fend for himself any longer.

Traumatized Me isn’t worthy of my anger or my frustration. Traumatized Me is worthy of my compassion, my patience, my friendship, and my love. Traumatized me is loved by God. He is at peace with God in Jesus. God in Jesus has accepted him too. So, with God’s help, I’m going to become friends with Traumatized Me. I’m going to love him. I’m going to make peace with him. I’m going to accept him. When he struggles to avert his eyes, when he feels beset by unwanted and intrusive thoughts, when he feels the urge to measure himself, I’m not going to berate him. I’m not going to become frustrated with him. Instead, I’m going to come alongside him as his friend, put my arm around his shoulder, assure him that everything is OK, and help him move on. The war between me and me and me needs to stop. And, with God’s help, it will stop. With God’s help, I’m going to declare peace with myself.

I don’t know where you are on your healing journey, dear fellow survivor. But it wouldn’t surprise me at all if a war is being waged inside you between you and you and you. Perhaps you are at war with yourself because you know in your head that the abuse you experienced was not your fault, yet your heart won’t let go of the feeling that you were at least partly responsible. Perhaps you are at war with yourself because your spouse doesn’t understand how profoundly the abuse you experienced still affects you and your ability to form an intimate relationship. This has caused a rift between the two of you, and you’re fighting not to go back to your old bad habit of pretending that everything is OK when it’s not. Perhaps you’re at war with yourself because flashbacks and nightmares keep you from sleeping. Perhaps you’re at war with yourself because the abuse you experienced disrupted your sexual development and everything still seems so muddled and confused.

I think all of us have a Traumatized Me that is a part of us.

It’s a part of us that we don’t like to acknowledge. It’s a part of us that we’d much rather bury. It’s a part of us that we feel much more comfortable leaving behind to fend for itself so that we can finally get on with our lives. Traumatized Me reminds us of things we’d prefer to forget. Traumatized Me weighs us down, makes us feel uncomfortable, makes us feel broken and unfixable.

But Traumatize Me is us. Traumatized Me is a part of us. We can’t just leave Traumatized Me behind to fend for itself. Traumatized Me needs to be welcomed into us and integrated into us. Berating Traumatized Me for what it’s thinking and feeling will not help it heal from the trauma. If we want to find healing and wholeness, we need to become friends with Traumatized Me.

A fellow survivor whom I told about my efforts to become friends with Traumatized Me said, “I’m not ready to become friends with that part of myself.” Perhaps that’s you, too. It was me not that long ago. That’s OK. Every survivor’s path is different, and no one path will work for everyone. But when you are ready, I encourage you to reach out to that traumatized part of yourself and engage with it, not as an adversary, but as a friend. Make peace with that part of yourself, knowing above all that in Jesus every part of you is at peace with God.

Be kind to yourself, even as God in Jesus is kind toward you.

Accept yourself as God in Jesus has accepted you. You do not need to be your own enemy. You can be at peace with yourself as with God’s help you embrace every part of yourself. You can be friends with your Traumatized Me and continue your healing journey together.

When I shared with my college roommate (who has walked alongside me on this journey for a long time) that I was becoming friends with Traumatized Me, he wrote me a poem. It made me cry and encouraged me immensely. I am so grateful for his kindness in giving this to me. With his permission, I share it with you, praying that it will encourage you also.

In Christ,
Your Brother Survivor