The numbness I felt after the attack was a welcomed relief. I had been through so much in the nine months leading up to it, that feeling nothing was a pleasure. Even so, I had a nagging feeling it would not last forever. I knew that once the numbness wore off, it would take everything in me not to crumble. But I kept reminding myself enjoy this oddly new emotionless state as I usually feel all the feels.
I was angry going into the weekend when it happened, but I insisted on making lemonade out of lemons. It’s weird in the aftermath the only way I could explain it was I was fine, until I wasn’t. When the numbness wore off the bruises were still there. I could not run from it. I stood in the bathroom staring at my rib cage. It didn’t hurt, well not physically. How did I get to 40 years old with not so much as a hair on my head mishandled and now, I had this very evident reminder?
What happened and how it happened to me are the minor details. Anyone who has been assaulted has a story, the response is different, and perhaps even the healing is different, but we all are the same in that we “earned” a new title, victim.
Once the numbness wore off, I did speak about it. I had to. There was no way of hiding it. I was angry at myself for not being stronger and not holding it together better. One common thread that kept coming back to me was I needed to speak to someone. I finally made an appointment more so to appease everyone else. I had one session, and it was brutal. I remember driving home after it was over thinking, I can’t go through that again, and I didn’t.
I had started running about a month before the attack but now it became my passion. I can’t explain the peace of mind I got to blasting “California Love” and “Lose Yourself” into my earbuds as I pounded the ground with each step I took. And then the unforeseen happened, I got good at it. I felt like every time I went for a run, I was conquering little more of what was taken away from me, and perhaps a little of that is true but let’s be honest it was a distraction.
Towards the middle of the summer my knee started hurting, but it wasn’t too bad, so I ran through the pain. In late July a week before my next race, I drove up to a new trail to run as I was getting bored on the one I had been on for weeks. I was only a quarter way down, when the pain shot through me like electricity. I fell to the ground, and I could barely catch my breath. The acute pain was so severe I did not know if I would be able to even make it back to my car on my own. Long story short I was out for running for 8 weeks. Eight long weeks of idle time was not good for me. Too much time on my hands, to much time to think.
Write Margot, you love to write, I thought. It had been a while since I had written anything, and I was not sure I wanted to open Pandora’s Box. What would I uncover that I buried down? What I found was something unexpected but what I have learned is priceless. I always had this belief if you put enough goodness out in the world you would get it back. Not that I thought I would be immune to bad things happening, but I had my ass kicked for the past few years and I felt jaded. In the last couple of weeks, I have been doing a lot of running and writing. Sorting out the good from the bad. I am taking some time to take inventory in the good I have in my life (and there is good). I am also a big believer that every experience, every moment happens for a reason. It has opened my eyes to a new perspective on me. While I had to break myself down a couple of times this year, the rebuilding of Margot is what excites me now. Now its time for me to kick some ass.
Quick facts on assault in the United States
- Nationwide, 81% of women and 43% of men reported experiencing some form of sexual harassment and/or assault in their lifetime. (National Sexual Violence Resource Center)
- Every 68 seconds an American is sexually assaulted (RAINN)
- 1 out of every 3 women experienced sexual violence involving physical contact during her lifetime ( National Center for Injury Prevention and Control, Division of Violence Prevention)
According to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, the national rape-related pregnancy rate is approximately 5% per rape among women aged 12–45 years, or approximately 32,000 pregnancies resulting from rape each year. So, are we ready to disregard 32,000 pregnancies because it’s such a “small” number? Who cares about them? Keep in mind this is just the
said to me. At the time it took everything in my power to not either be offended, cry, yell or do all three. Now when I think about it, I think people were actually trying to either help or show interest, but it just came out the wrong way. With that said I came up with my “favorite” 10 things people said to me when I was pregnant.
I held Liam’s hand as we entered the ladies bathroom and there was a line. He was excited I had just bought him a balloon shaped like Spiderman so he was completely engaged with that. I heard a woman say, “Oh you are one of those,” but I didn’t really pay much attention at the time as I didn’t think it was directed to me. A stall emptied and I brought Liam in. At home we had instilled a privacy rule as Liam and Ava had been notorious for busting in on anyone who was in the bathroom. Liam closed his eyes without me saying a word (to be quite honest I hadn’t given it much thought), and he said, “Mommy I am giving you privacy.” I smiled and thought how considerate that was. I quickly went and then we left the stall. I directed Liam over to the sinks to wash my hands and that’s when it happened.
hers would argue if I do not vote then I have no right to complain about the outcome or what happens thereafter. But isn’t abstaining at times a much louder voice then saying anything at all? Sometimes being quiet can speak volumes among all of the rancor around you. I am sure I will be in the minority of not voting, but imagine what message it would send if this year’s poll turnout was a record low? “Tis better to be silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt.” – Abraham Lincoln
When I first came to this consensus in my mind I thought I might be the only one thinking this way. However, in the last several months the memes that have infiltrated the internet have pointed out that I am not alone. When I finally decided to write this blog entry and looked for graphics, my options were endless. I was speaking with a girlfriend this past weekend in regards to this very topic. She like me was very dissatisfied by our candidate options. She posed an option that I wrestled with in my head for a while. She mention that in November she might vote for one candidate purely for the fact that if he got in, he probably would not be able to get any of his initiatives to pass. I had never thought of it that way and was intrigued by the idea. Sadly, have we become a nation who votes for a candidate in pure hope that he will fail?
I could not believe what I was hearing. For a moment I was completely shocked, but I had to shake myself out of that as we were driving down the road. I was in awe on how insightful and thoughtful and empathetic Liam had been. Even now as I type this out it astonishes me how forgiving and loving he was. It’s unbelievable how sometimes the littlest actions, the simplest words can have the most profound impact. Liam in that split second reminded me on how as wonderful and great, grand gestures are sometimes, it’s the purest, smallest moments that can have the lasting effect.
hoed in my head. If killing 20 children at the mere age of 6 and 7 and 6 adults did not get our nation to do anything, nothing will. At this point we are all guilty. We all have blood on our hands. Each and every shooting that occurs in which we made no attempt to change it, is our fault too.
Like any good parent I have doubted myself in my methods, read numerous articles regarding whatever particular topic we were trying to hurdle, and surveyed other parents to get feedback on what they did. I asked my pediatrician and read books on parenting. No it was definitely not luck, it took a lot of studying and research.
Mother of Two 