Agni Connor: My story of healing through kindness
This project explores a traumatic experience and how one can take back control after trauma.
Legal note: Each victim has the right to speak out about their experience, but the accused is presumed innocent until/unless proven guilty in the court of law.
Here's my story.
I pursued a PhD degree in the vibrant, exciting environment of a university in Ireland. I was part of a larger research team, but was able to work on my own ideas independently. I very much appreciated being independent, but also enjoyed feeling connected to the rest of the team. I was fortunate to have access to quite generous PhD funding and be able to focus on my studies full-time. I was also pursuing my interest in digital arts, even winning a few international competitions and publishing in art magazines. Life was going well. I was full of hope and had a sense of purpose. I was getting to know new people and developing friendships both within the academic world and beyond.
Someone I trusted (I’ll call him Michael) introduced me to his adult son. From the very first meeting I had a sense that something wasn’t right, and I shared it with Michael, who reassured me that there was nothing to worry about. Although I wasn’t alarmed by the son’s behaviour at that point, I was still uncomfortable and puzzled. There was certainly some line-crossing going on. I was puzzled, for example, by his son telling me that I reminded him of his first girlfriend, but Michael assured me that this was just “friendly” behaviour.
Over the weeks and months that followed, the son’s behaviour gradually escalated with unwanted compliments of a sexual nature, overfamiliar comments and prolonged periods of continuous staring, and he also started to physically invade my private space, becoming more and more overt as time went on. Even though I'd done everything I could to fend him off, on two occasions he had to be physically separated from me; he was pulled away from the area by another person. These unwelcome, intense sexual advances took place at social gatherings on the university campus, where there were other people around, including Michael. No matter how many people were around, the son would track me down every time in a manner that one witness compared to a wild animal hunting for its prey. Witnesses recall the son putting his hands on me on more than one occasion, and refusing to take no for an answer.
I often expressed my concerns to Michael about his son’s behaviour, but was repeatedly told I had nothing to worry about. I also spoke to other people, but I don’t remember any useful help. Witnesses remember being embarrassed about the son's sexual advances towards me and also about Michael being in the vicinity and not doing anything to stop his son. After a number of months, the son’s behaviour culminated in a physical attack in public, during which nobody stepped forward to help me. Later I had a conversation with Michael, who witnessed the physical incident. I said that I never wanted to be anywhere near his son again and insisted that he spoke to his son, which he did.
I remember one lunchtime conversation in particular that I had with Michael about his son’s behaviour, and this likely took place some time after I was physically attacked. I asked Michael for his insights into his son’s behaviour, to which he replied that he suspected that his son was frustrated in the relationship he was in. Michael also suspected that his son wanted to be like him and date more than one woman at a time. I was surprised and saddened that Michael appeared to be proud when he was saying this.
This string of experiences devastated me at the time and has broken my trust in people. In order to move on, I supressed the pain and kept it out of sight. I got super engaged in academic writing and focused on solving some statistical challenges. Oh, how I loved solving equations. Numbers were logical and all problems had a finite number of solutions.
My love for numbers notwithstanding, I was feeling increasingly anxious. I was attached to a reality that I did not want to inhabit and was no longer able to fully connect with people. It felt like I was living behind a pane of glass, with me on one side and the rest of the world on the other. On my side of the glass, the oxygen was in short supply.
I put huge amounts of energy into trying to understand what happened to me and why it happened. I hang on to excuses, which is a common defence mechanism. Like many survivors, I minimized the events and their impact. Finally, I had enough and blocked it all out. I blocked out the despair, but in doing so I also blocked out the joy and excitement of life. You can’t suppress one emotion without supressing all the others. I survived like this for a number of years.
Fast forward to 2018, I got inspired by Christine Blasey Ford’s bravery in speaking out against sexual harassment. Her courage to tell her story in front of cameras and millions of curious and critical onlookers shook me. I was able to identify with so much of what she was saying. She felt she needed two sets of entrance doors to be safe in her own house. So did I. She couldn’t recall the hours after the attack. Neither could I. She didn’t remember the exact date of the incident. Me neither. Then came Weinstein’s victims, and with every account, the pain that I was carrying grew until it started seeping out into my daily life. I felt angry, devastated, sad, and disappointed. Everything boiled over. I don’t know how I would have made it without the love and patience of my friends - thank you all for your kindness.
Now I would like to pay this kindness forward and make acts of kindness a regular habit of mine.
My act of kindness for today is for the person who trespassed against me. He has shown no remorse and neither has he made any apology. But today I choose to believe that events that transpired may have affected him too and that he could have been suffering. True kindness lies in understanding that suffering touches us all in one way or another. I realise that I don’t have to carry this with me any more. I forgive him.
I forgive knowing that, in Paul Gilbert’s words, "forgiveness doesn't mean that you'll ever like the person you're forgiving, nor does it mean that the person is entitled to your forgiveness." This forgiveness arises out of an understanding that, to move on, I have to acknowledge the anger that has been stored inside me, let it all out, and then let it go. As children, we are often told that anger and other negative emotions are unseemly and must be kept out of sight. The ill-treatment, aggression and oppression that I experienced as a student made me extremely angry, and I suffered for many years trying to suppress it. Being able to release the anger safely was an important part of my recovery.
My second act of kindness is for myself. I give myself permission to give up trying to understand why this happened to me and to become comfortable with not knowing. I also give myself permission to be mindfully present with the traumatic memories whenever they demand my attention, but also to allow my mind to let go of the mental narrative around these events. Holding on to a story about a person who got hurt, however true and justified this story may be, often compounds the pain experienced in the first place.
Finally, I also give myself permission not to worry if those who caused me pain ever understand their wrongdoing and meet their justice. This is for more powerful forces than me to decide. Instead, I choose to focus on my own path and the good that I can do.
Be kind.
#MakeKindnessAHabit
