Nobody prepares you for what it feels like to survive sexual assault. Forget a ton of bricks; it hit me like a whole house.
I felt shame, anger and a huge shift in my sense of self. I felt contaminated and worthless, and completely conflicted about romance and sexuality. The ramifications of the abuse rippled into many parts of my life, from my ability to interact with colleagues and perform at work to my capacity to leave the house at all.
Then shortly after my 25th birthday, I received a letter from my GP, telling me it was time to attend my first cervical smear. I had known this was coming, but hadn’t given it much thought until the invitation to make an appointment arrived.
My reaction took me by complete surprise: I felt sick, repulsed by the piece of paper. I read it quickly, and then shoved it deep into the bin.
From my brief read, I had picked out the words ‘human papillomavirus’, and over the following weeks I started to obsess over the idea that I had HPV. I felt so sure of it, I convinced myself I could physically feel it inside me.
It was scary, but somehow not as scary as the idea of actually going for my smear test.
The sexual abuse had affected my relationship with my body, and especially with my sexual organs. I felt like my vagina was disgusting and dirty, like the abuse had changed it somehow.
I couldn’t even bring myself to look at my own ‘bits’. The idea of someone touching me there, even during a medical procedure, was enough to make me feel physically unwell.
At work, my colleagues (who didn’t know what I’d been through) were mostly women and so every now and then, the topic of smear tests would come up. Whenever it did, I felt on edge and stayed silent, desperately trying not to think about the letter I had ignored.
Even my deep sense of guilt and shame was outweighed by the fear I felt of actually going for a smear test. And the longer I put it off, the harder it was to book.
As the years went by, I started to convince myself I had cervical cancer. I had none of the symptoms but I thought I just ‘knew’. Some nights, I would lie awake crying about how unfair it was that I couldn’t just go and get checked – I knew that if there was a problem it was best caught early.
I was full of anger at the injustice that my abuser had taken so much away from me, including the ability to put my health first. It was exhausting.
In 2019, I made two attempts to get my smear test done. I had fallen in love and was subsequently supporting my partner through a health scare, so I realised what I could put us through if I continued to put off my smear.
On the first occasion, I thought I would be fine – but when the time came, I had a panic attack. The thought of being exposed, vulnerable and out of control was too much for me. I wasn’t able to even make it to the doctor’s, let alone have the test.
A few months later, with a second appointment booked, I sought the advice of other survivors on Twitter. To my relief and surprise, I found out that I was far from alone. They advised me to wear a skirt, take headphones and to ask for the smallest speculum available. They also suggested that I tell the nurse what I had been through. With their support, I managed to stay relatively calm in the days building up to the appointment. This time, I went through with it.
The nurse was kind and understanding about my situation and I realised then that it was OK to talk about – it didn’t have to be some shameful secret.
She talked me through the procedure, offered to show me the equipment (I declined) and asked if I wanted someone in the room with me. She reassured me that it was OK to be anxious about it, and that I was brave for facing my fears.
The procedure itself was pain-free and over very quickly. I think, deep down, I always knew it would be.
I cried a lot after getting home. I did feel vulnerable as I had feared – but I also felt relieved and empowered. I felt like I had taken some of the control of my own body back from my abuser. I felt closer to my trauma, and I felt triggered, but I also felt like I had taken a huge step in my recovery.
Fortunately, the results came back all clear.
I have been left with a sense of pride and determination for facing something that felt almost impossible.
Sexual violence survivors have to deal with consequences that go far beyond what gets talked about and, until I found myself personally living this reality, I had no idea how it could impact my long term physical health.
I have since learned that half of all sexual assault survivors have not attended their smear test because of their experiences. Like me, they feel unable to face the appointment and it puts their physical health is at risk.
No one needs to go through this alone. Survivors need to know that what happened to them was not their fault, and speaking to a doctor about any fears around a smear test is the first step in taking your life back into your own hands.
More support
If you’re worried about attending your cervical smear, Jo’s Trust has information about the procedure on their website or you can call for advice on 0808 802 8000.
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source https://metro.co.uk/2020/01/12/first-smear-test-sexually-assaulted-12037975/
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