Un-Apologetically Me

"You are not defined by someone's partial view

of your life, your strengths, or your history.
Their inability to see or appreciate the complete
version of you only limits them, not you.
Stand strong in your truth and purpose
and continue being your bad-ass, unapologetic self."
-Steve Maraboli

December 8th, 1994 - Chandler Regional Medical Center.

Katelyn Marie. 8 pounds, 3 ounces.

We're born into this world and given a name. That's it. That's what we're supposed to be known by for the rest of our life. One name. We're perfect--untouched by the world around us. Then we start getting older.. and the labels arise. Our names are used less and less by people.

You're 6 years old and you are annoying.
You're 12 years old and you just got called fat. Maybe a loser?
You're 18 years old and now you are being sexualized and looked at differently.

And what about the stigmas surrounding mental health? Shame. Embarrassment.

Does anyone really know you? Do you even know who you are anymore?

Maybe you're a wife, mother, father, son, teacher, engineer, leader, follower, etc.
Maybe you think you're afraid, lost, broken, unworthy..

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Who am I?
I'm Katelyn. At 12 years old, I was diagnosed with a chemical imbalance (depression) in my brain. At 22 years old, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety & panic. And now, at 24, I recently found out that I have sensory processing disorder (*SPD). I've been in therapy on and off since I was seven, and society teaches me to be embarrassed about it. I'm taught to stay quiet, because I'm the "crazy" girl when people realize I see a therapist and a psychiatrist. I'm overly sensitive. When I'm dressed up and going out, I'm 'sexy' or 'hot'. I'll get on your nerves, and sometimes I'm a brat. I lash out and throw tantrums that I still haven't figured out how to control. I heard someone refer to me by saying, "Oh her? You don't want to deal with her. She has depression and stuff, so she's a mess". These damn labels..
*SPD is a condition in which the brain has trouble receiving and responding to information that comes in through the senses.

We grow up hearing these horrible things about ourselves, and somewhere along the way, we start to internalize them. We believe them. We use what someone else said to define who we are. And then we say things like, "Look at this girl on Instagram, she's so _______". We've all done it. It's never positive. I wonder what her story is though. Everyone has a story.
     --Maybe that girl who you think is fat has poly-cystic ovary syndrome. She's struggling and she is already self conscious. There is more to her.
     --Maybe that father who you think is a "dead beat" never had a fighting chance. He's hurting and he wants those kids. There is more to him.

Maybe there is more under the surface that you'll never know or be able to see about someone. Just like there is so much more to you. You are so much more than your mental illness. You are so much more than the labels and the stigmas. You are so much more than every trial you have to fight through in this life. You are so much more than what people say about you. Believe that. If you ignore the labels, they won't stick. The labels are not yours to carry.

So who am I really?
I'm Katelyn. I am an advocate, a writer, a daughter.. but you know that. At 12 years old, I took piano lessons and although I'm not musically inclined, I found a love for music. At 22 years old, I truly learned how to love and accept myself on my own. And now, at 24, I'm back in my parent's house and learning to let go of people/things that don't help me grow. I go to therapy every week, and I'm a better person because of it. I am a fighter for what I believe in. I don't want to be called hot.. I just want to be pretty. Because I am. I am a lover of Jesus and know that I'm saved through him. I was blessed with a heart big enough to love every person in this world. I forgive easily. I like to dance alone in my apartment. I sing in front of anyone, without a care. I'm fascinated with the stars, and I love to play in the dirt. I still believe in magic and fairy tales. I am thankful every day for what life has put me through. I am strong, brave and powerful. I'm just me. The good, the bad.. it's all there! And I won't apologize for it.

Let the one who created you be the one who defines you. Don't let the labels stick. So who were you before the world told you who you should be?

Love, Miss KatieBug <3

Trauma.

"There are wounds that never show on the body
that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."

*Trigger warning: rape

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. My story is not a secret. It is out here for the world to read, because I don't want anyone to feel alone the way I did for so long. But.. there is always suffering beyond the story. The story is the easy part. The trauma is the part that nobody ever talks about.

Trauma: "Emotional shock following a stressful event, which may be associated with 
physical shock and sometimes leads to long-term neurosis."

Denial. For a long time, I would not let myself believe that it was anything other than sex. I didn't want to believe that something so awful really happened to me, so I made up stories in my head. I took the blame. I tried everything I could to suppress the memory.

Fear. This one was rough. I wanted to be afraid of men, but I wasn't. In my mind, I needed them to help me feel better about the situation. But I was afraid of judgment. I was afraid of being labeled a slut. I was too afraid to ever say no to someone again..

Anger. How could he? He chose a girl so innocent and loving. He took something from me that I could never get back, and I hated him for it. I hated him for having power over me. I hated him for believing he didn't do anything wrong. I hated him, because I said no and he still did what he wanted.

Shame. I was humiliated. I could not claim to be a virgin anymore. I didn't save myself for marriage, like I always thought I would. He clearly had no respect for me; and in turn, I had no respect for myself. I had nothing left to give, and I did not want to be alive anymore. 

Guilt. Maybe this really was my fault. I always trusted people too easily.  Maybe I gave him the wrong look or sent off certain vibes. Maybe I didn't say no loud enough. Maybe he thought my cry was a good sign? I may have said no, but I didn't fight back. 

Moral Injury. So now I've had sex.. and I've tried to kill myself. Do I go to church and confess my sins? Did I lose my place in heaven? A returned missionary did this to me. I couldn't bear to go back to church. In my mind, I was broken. Past the point of no return. He damaged my spirit and my faith.

These are the six main emotional responses to trauma & these were my own thoughts in the midst of each one. They are a constant cycle. Today, even 5 years later, I still have several of these thoughts. "What could I have done differently?" is my most common. I know the truth, but trauma is tricky. I was raped, and it was not my fault. I never sinned. The God I know will still welcome me into heaven with open arms. We can talk ourselves through the thoughts, but what about everything else? What about the self sabotage and panic attacks?

So, here's to being vulnerable:

Because of him, I try to control others so they can't control me. I do not know how to properly handle being told to do something. Because of him, I do not know how to trust anyone, even after they prove to me that I can. I'm afraid to be left alone with people. Because of him, I purposely ruin good things/relationships to save myself any future pain. I leave people before they can leave me. Because of him, I am afraid to say no when I am in an uncomfortable situation. I just let unwanted things happen. Because of him, the panic attacks happen just from a kiss. And that is trauma.

I am working through this. I am in sexual assault counseling & support groups. It's okay to reach out and ask for help. It's okay to talk about it. It's okay to be vulnerable. It is not okay for someone to hold so much power over you that you lose yourself. And if you don't take anything else from this post, know this: I AM NOT WHAT HAPPENED TO ME. And neither are you. You are not the assault, abuse, pain, hurt, neglect, loss, or trauma. You are love. You are magic. You are worthy. YOU are whoever you want to be.

And absolutely none of what happened to you is your fault.

Love,

Miss KatieBug <3