“One day you will tell the story of how you overcame what you went through, and it will become a survival guide for others.” ~ Brené Brown
“Hey, can I call you?” read a text message from my cousin Danny.
“Of course,” I replied, taking a deep, nervous breath.
I recently shared some painful experiences with a family member we are both close to. I thought Dani had heard what I said about our family, and I wasn’t sure if she would be upset by the secrets I revealed.
All my life I have always been told to put a smile on your face and pretend everything is fine. I was taught that expressing “negative” emotions might upset others. god forbid.
My mother died of breast cancer when I was twelve, and on my last visit to her I was told, “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.” You don’t want to upset your mother. After her death, the “suppress all emotion” mentality continued and I made a habit of hiding the verbal and emotional abuse I suffered as a teen/young adult.
In my forties, I began trauma therapy and was diagnosed with complex post-traumatic stress disorder. I started journaling to process the various trials and tribulations I had experienced throughout my life. I’m a list person and find that categorizing each event and its associated emotions is a helpful way to absorb everything I’m going through.
When the full inventory of trauma was complete, I just sat there with my hand over my mouth, staring at the newspaper. Seeing them together, pained and scarred, I was struck by the sheer volume. It’s like my blinders have been removed and I can see it all clearly now.
My whole life I kept quiet and acted like everything was fine. I would change myself, weaken myself, succumb to appeasing others, adapt to whatever narrative kept the peace. When the blindfold came off, I knew I was done.
I made a purposeful choice not to give up on myself. I’m tired of being the version of myself that everyone can live with. To keep the peace? Whose peace? I feel really uneasy and I don’t want to live like this for a second.
I will come out of hiding, bravely uncover my scars and tell my story. I listened to the stories others bravely shared and found comfort in the similarities; I felt like maybe I wasn’t alone.
Now, I feel a calling to speak my truth in hopes of being a source of encouragement to those struggling with childhood trauma and mental illness.
It was scary, but I hesitantly started telling those closest to me. My husband and children knew the main part of my trauma, but I told them the rest. Since then, I have become braver and slowly confided in other friends and family, exposing generational trauma, abuse and abandonment. I was completely transparent and spared no one, not even myself.
As expected, I received adverse reactions and criticism for sharing this type of content. However, these negative reactions are the exception, not the rule. To my surprise, most people were positive and incredible. Some people have even thanked me for sharing my story, telling me how much of an impact it made or how helpful they found it.
Several family members, including my cousin Danny, testified to the trauma and abuse. It was so healing for me to hear that, especially in the face of other people’s disapproval. what happened to me used to be It is true, even if some want to dismiss or minimize it. A few even shared their own survival stories with me after hearing my story.
One reviewer asked me why I felt the need to put all this negativity out there. They understood the need to journal to process my trauma, but it seemed strange to them to talk about it with other people. They think it does more harm than good.
My whole life I have made a habit of hiding the truth, pretending everything is fine, and ignoring my own needs for the sake of others:
- Never be sad, even if your mother died when you were a child.
- Even if your dad doesn’t stand up for you, never be disappointed.
- Never get angry, even if your stepdad screams at you.
- Don’t get frustrated even if your stepmom belittles and excludes you.
In trauma therapy, I learned that hiding “bad” emotions (spoiler alert, there are no “bad” emotions) only leads to more pain. There’s a reason the saying “the only way out is through” is popular. I had to face my emotions, honor my pain, and shine a light on it.
I will no longer put my abuser’s needs before my own. I will no longer be silent. I won’t hide anymore. I will tell my story of survival and healing with the world in the hope that it can provide guidance to others struggling. A map, an atlas.
Coming out of hiding can be scary and sometimes needs to be done step by step. If you’re at a point in your life where you feel it’s time to move from pain to healing, try the following.
1. One small step
- Start small: reveal a small secret, experience, or trauma.
- Tell one person: a close friend, a trusted family member, or anonymously online.
- Be transparent: Share your nervousness; say it’s hard for you.
2. Evaluate and appreciate
- Give yourself a little credit: Give yourself a pat on the back for taking one small, brave step.
- Notice how you feel: Proud? Relieved? lighter?
- Realize: You did it and survived, you can do it again.
3. Fix and repeat
- Popular: Talk in person, via text message, anonymously online?
- Things you missed: Internet trolls, friends being offended, some families being upset?
- Continue: Each shared connection becomes more comfortable and healing.
The reason I share my story with the world is because I will never be silent again! I came out of hiding to heal and you can too! Tell your story; show your scars. This may just be the map others need to find their own path to healing.
About Sadie Montgomery
Sadie Montgomery was born and raised in the Midwest and currently lives on Lake Superior with her husband and children. An amateur baker and professional accountant, she won the award for best sense of humor in sixth grade. Scar Atlas is her first memoir. You can find her on Instagram, Facebook, TikTok and Sadiemontgomery.com.
