Clothes = healing?

Not long ago, I was having a conversation with a friend. This friend told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should be over my past by now. I was told that I was obviously stuck in a rut, that I had surrendered to my misery and I needed help to get out of it and to get over everything. This person then said that she knew exactly how to heal me. By taking me clothes shopping.

Yes, you read that correctly. Clothes shopping. Apparently, buying new clothes would help me, as a childhood abuse and rape victim, to 'get over it'. I was told that I have no taste in clothes, that I lack style and that my lack of style makes me unnatractive. She told me not to worry though - it's understandable that I want to be unnatractive, given what has happened to me. But it's really about time to move on. So I need to go out and buy clothes that make me stand out from the crowd, that make a statement about myself. And being the wonderful person that she is, she will help me with my fashion sense. In letting her make me over, I'll be halfway there to 'getting over it'. Clothes will, apparently, make me heal.

I am so glad that someone has finally told me what I need to do in order to 'move on'. Buy new clothes and make myself attractive. Wow, I never knew it was so easy! Just imagine, I'll no longer have to work through and come to terms with all the years of abuse, denial, pain, anger, insecurity, fear etc. No, instead, all I need to do is buy new clothes!

As you may have guessed by now, I have many, many issues with this. I don't even know where to start. There are so many things wrong with what she said to me.

Firstly - don't you dare trivialise what I went through. Suggesting that something that has changed and shaped me so monumentally can be 'undone' by a simpe shopping trip is insulting. I can't even begin to describe how belittling and undermining that is. You are basically telling me that what I went through is nothing, that it shouldn't have had this much impact on me. I'm still trying to grasp the extent to which this has affected me, but I know it's more than a simple shopping trip can 'fix'. I'm sure my past has affected me in ways I can't even begin to imagine. However, I'm slowly finding out just how much of an impact this has had on my life. It has skewed my perception of what a healthy sexual relationship should be like. It has almost destroyed my faith in men. It made me fall in to a pit of dispair. It has left me with scars (physically and emotionally) that will never quite go away; they may fade, but they will always be there. So don't you dare try and tell me that what I went through is no big deal, that it is of no significance and is inconsequential. You have no idea how much this has affected me. But there's one thing that you can be sure of, and that is that a shopping trip will not 'fix' this.

Secondly - there is no time frame to recovering. Everyone recovers at a different pace. I suffered through years of sexual abuse. I suffered through rape. Then I spent the next few years living in denial and trying to bury something that was desperate to surface, something that was screaming to be brought out in to the open. I only let it out a few months ago. Over 10 years worth of buried emotions have just been allowed to surface. It's going to take me a hell of a lot longer than a few months to sift through them all. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and think; 'Oh, it's been a few months now, I better be over this by now'. It's going to take a long, long time for me to work through everything. You rushing me is not helping; in fact, it's making it worse. Not only do I need to focus on working through everything, I now also have to worry about working to someone else's expected time frame. Will people think I'm weak or a drama queen if I haven't reached "step 5 of the grieving process" by tomorrow? Back off and let me heal in my own time.

Thirdly - who gave you the right to judge me? I am not, as you may think, stuck in a rut. I have not surrendered to my misery. In fact, I'm fighting it with every piece of strength I have. I was completely and utterly stripped to the core. It felt like I was left completely and utterly broken, cowering in a cave of despair. You have no idea just how much I am working to come out at the other side, to start to live again and see the beauty in life again. Yet you judge me, saying I'm just a misery guts. You are completely ignoring just how far I have come, how much work I have put in to putting myself back together. Don't you dare belittle all the hard work that I have done - and am still doing - to get my life back on track. I am working damn hard at finding my inner peace, at finding my happiness. So don't you tell me that I'm not working hard enough, or that I'm not working at all, because you have no idea just how hard I'm working.

Fourthly - I may never 'be over it'. It's not like it's the flu - I can't just rest a lot and take medicine and then be better in a couple of days. I won't suddenly forget what happened. In a sense, I will never 'get over it'. The memories will always remain. However, what I hope will happen is that I will find a way to live with it. I'm trying extremely hard to get to the place where I can live with it, but I don't think I will ever 'be over it'.

And finally - I'm sorry that my fashion sense isn't up to your standard. You find me unnatractive? Surprisingly enough, it's not the end of my world that you're not attracted to me. In fact, it may shock you, but I just don't care what you think of my style. I am not, nor will I ever be, a 'girly-girl' or 'chic'. That's not who I am. I am most comfortable in jeans and a tshirt, not an expensive skirt with a designer belt and a cute top. I am me, and I am - finally - getting to be comfortable with who I am. I will never be a fashion designer. I have absolutely no idea what the latest 'in thing' is. And I don't really care either. You may not like what I wear, but I do. I'm not pretending to be someone I'm not. I'm just me. I wear what I want to, depending on my mood on that particular day. Sometimes I dress in what you may call 'goth' wear. Sometimes I wear what you may call 'girl next door'. Sometimes I wear what you might call 'tom-boy', or 'urban', or 'butch' and yes, sometimes even 'girly'. You may not like that I don't just stick to one sort of style, or you may not like the style I wear most days. But you know what? Tough.

Right, that's my little rant over! I just had to get that off my chest.

Me