Shatter the Silence

I recently shared a secret that I’ve kept all my life with my father, my brother and few of my loved ones. I was scared to share this with my dad because I have huge respect for him and I didn’t want to shatter that had he asked me to be quiet or forget about it. I feel grateful and very proud that my dad has been understanding and supportive of this. But not many have the same understanding parent that I do.

In choosing to tell my story, I hope to shatter the silence. The paralyzing feelings of guilt and shame that accompany being raped last far longer than the assault itself. I realize that this might come off as a shock to many people here especially my family and relatives but I’m confident that this is the right thing to do. I don’t seek any revenge but an open door for us all to heal.

Few weeks ago a friend of mine shared her rape story, which made me realize so many of us go through the horrific experience in silence. It is not fair. It is not fair that the perpetrator keep doing what they do without fair as if raping someone is their right. It is not fair that women in our society are taught to be tolerant for the sake of false pride of the family and our blinded view of our beloved culture. We are always expected to think about everyone else first. This is probably why I kept this secret for so long from everyone.

My cousin raped me from age 6 up until 12. I was too young to understand what was going on even though I knew it was not right. He made me feel like I had to keep it as a secret and would instill fear in me. I thought it was all happening because I was a girl. So, I would try to disguise myself as a boy, cutting my hair short by myself. But it didn’t stop. I would pray to the god above asking it to stop. But no one came to save me. I had to be my own savior. The perception that I had of the world as a 7 year old was completely different than any of my peers.

His family moved out of the house when I was 12, then it stopped. When I realized what had happened it was too late. I chose not to tell anyone, not even my mom. I thought this was my secret and I shouldn’t create problems in our family. I tried to forget about what happened but then I would have to see his face then and again. And I would again feel paralyzed, hurt, and shameful.

I had created a world of my own to get through all this. I learnt to be self-reliant. Music and art has continuously saved me. I would read about people who went through the same incidents. I always disguised myself as a guy wearing a hoodie and would attend metal concerts. Sometimes I would escape from my balcony and go on walk for hours in the dark streets of Kathmandu; I would feel free, safe and secure outside of my house than inside of it. I would lash out in anger at times and my mom would say “As a human being your first response to anything should be being kind, if you can’t then there’s something inside of you that is bothering you.”

I finished my high school and I couldn’t wait to get out of Kathmandu. I moved to USA as a student in 2009. Even though I had many people who loved me and cared about me, all I wanted was to be free. Just as rapists often tell their victims to shut their mouths, society can do something similar to victims. I hope that by sharing my experiences, I can help others who’ve been raped, as well as their family members, friends, gain a new and better perspective from someone who was there and is now here. The silence does not have to linger forever. I’m fortunate that I was able to utilize many of the skills and traits that I had developed over the years to aid my healing.

We don’t need new laws in Nepal but an understanding that we should not put our false pride of a family or preserving a culture before anyone’s human right. I waited for years in hoping something would change. But nothing changes unless we decide to change ourselves first.

For those who have struggled with adversity, who have experienced things that they wish they could undo or leave behind, those who are haunted by their past, I want to say that there is a way through. We will all face it; we will refuse to allow those feelings of guilt and shame to hold us back or to victimize us again. We can use those experiences, as horrible as they might have been, to make us stronger than we ever dreamed possible. I hope that in reading my story we can all find some keys to unlocking your own strengths and abilities. You may not deal with life the same as I do, but you can begin to move more freely in your world and in your own way.

I was victimized, but I refuse to be called a victim. I’ve been sad, but I won’t let anyone feel sorry for me anymore. I’ve been raped, but I will never let that define who I am.

If you are going through something similar, please reach out. We can share each other’s story and make each other stronger.

Advertisements

To eat or not to eat meat

Why are people so concerned about what other people eat? Why don’t they just eat and let other people eat what they want? Why do they have to interrupt you while you are satisfying your taste buds with the food you like? Why do I have to explain my fellow Nepali friends about my beef eating habit? Why do they treat me like a beast when I reveal my liking for beef?

Last night I went out with my friends to Texas Steakhouse. There was this new guy that my friend had invited to dinner. He seemed like a quiet guy until I ordered steak. I don’t usually order steak but it was Texas Steakhouse. I couldn’t help it. I mean you don’t order chowmein when you go to a momo pasal.  After I ordered steak the new guy turned to me and asked, “Why do you eat beef?” Suddenly this quiet guy wasn’t so quiet. As much as I was annoyed by his question I said, “I ate beef as soon as I landed in US. It was an accident but after that I just don’t differentiate between the types of meat I eat”. He was not satisfied with my answer and with a sarcastic tone he said, “Oh, I understand! People are so Americanized these days. They forget their culture and the place where they come from. It’s not just you I know many people like you.” I just wanted to eat. I was not in the mood for a discussion. And whatever the fuck that meant when he said “Americanized”. I hate it when people say that. But I smiled and said, “Well, people are not as cultured as you are.” I could tell by his face that he was not done with the discussion. He obviously had planned to ruin my dinner.

I was about to eat when he again interrupted me and asked if I would eat dog’s meat. I laughed and said no. Then he went on about why would I differentiate between the meat now. It was such a ridiculous question. I thought to myself for a while. And then I just blurted out these points below:

  1. I never had a cow as my pet.
  2. I have had dogs as my pet.
  3. I have never named a cow in my whole life.
  4. I have named my dogs.
  5. A cow never welcomed me home when I got back.
  6. My dogs always welcomed me when I got home. They seemed so happy.
  7. I was chased by a cow with pointed horns when I was a kid.

After I unleashed the beef eating beast in me he laughed.  Then he carried on with his food and turned back to the quiet guy again. I remember when I was a kid; every Dashain, a goat was brought home 15 days prior to the festival. My brother and I would feed the goat for 15 days and would treat it as a pet. The whole Dashain we wouldn’t eat the meat because we knew the goat. Since, we both never ate meat during the whole festival; my parents stopped bringing the goat to perform the sacrifice ritual. So, my point is that I think I can eat animals with which I don’t have any sentimental values.