from Rita If you are on any form of social media right now, then you will know that it is currently dominated by news of Harvey Weinstein's sexual predation. I'm disgusted to think that he'd gotten away with this kind of behaviour for decades – abusing his position of power to prey on impressionable, vulnerable young women. I applaud the women who have come forward and talked about their experiences in an effort to drive more awareness to the issue in an effort to erase it for future generations of actresses. I can't even imagine how difficult it is for them to tell these stories. We live in a society that still blames victims – they should have just said no, they were asking for it, they should have come forward sooner – and dissecting the utter bollocks that that is could probably take an entire website in itself, not just a single blog. Instead, I want to focus on another difficulty within this story: the one experienced by those reading it but can't. People who are triggered and need to step away. The Little Library Café is one of my favourite places on the internet and its blogger Kate Young is one of my favourite people to read on a dreary day. She just brightens things up for me. Her stories about books and the recipes they inspire from her just make me smile and instantly make my day feel better. I've recently followed her on Twitter, but that was also around the time that she announced she'd be stepping away from it for a while. And Kate is not the only one. There are people all around the world who've felt the same thing. And not just with the Harvey Weinstein news. Trauma is not just a bad memory and being triggered by it is not just something you can will away. It exists in so many shapes and forms and elicits so many different reactions from those who have been affected by it. And if left untended, it can lead to severe mental and physical consequences. Sometimes, walking away is necessary. But it's easier said than done, especially when it comes to issues like these that carry such importance. I went through my own version of this last year and it came to a head when Davao City – the city where my father and grandmother often work – was bombed. That night market was my dad's favourite late-night snack spot. The accommodation where he and my grandmother stay when they work in Davao was right across the street. The hospital both of them often visited was just a couple of minutes away. When I found out it had been bombed, I crashed. I tried desperately to call home, get some news, but it was late at night there and no one was awake. No one was replying to me. I spent hours in the dark, not knowing if my dad had actually gone through with a business trip to the city that day. I didn't know if he'd felt hungry after a late night in the office and popped down to the market for a bite of the city's finest street food... When I did finally get news, I still couldn't shake the entire feeling away. In fact, I was literally shaking, then I went incredibly quiet, distant, unresponsive. But I didn't step away from anything. I didn't feel like I could. I knew my family was safe but I still had to obsessively check. How high were the fatalities now? Did they find out who was responsible? Would it happen again. Were the subsequent bombings by the same people? I didn't sleep much. I pretended I was OK – I felt ashamed not to be. I told people not to worry about me... but then I also jumped to check every news alert that came to my phone, feeling myself tremble each time. There is no happy ending to this story... no nice resolution to tie it up. My inability to step away ate at my anxieties more and more. And other anxieties piled up on top of that. I should have stepped away but I didn't. It didn't feel like an option. I didn't know that was an option.
Now I do... even though I still struggle with practicing it. I love Kate even more now. Beyond the recipes and sunny stories about books and food. I now appreciate her for her bravery in fighting against the stigma of stepping away.
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