A few weeks ago I was attending an event being held by the organisation I did my first uni field placement with last year. While the placement was maybe not ideally suited to me (or me to it) I did enjoy being around the people and made some good friends. I try to touch base occasionally and to support such events. An ex staff member, D, who I got along with very well was also attending, and we sat together, taking the opportunity to catch up with each other.
During the course of the event I realised that I knew one of the people who stood up to speak. M had been the Indigenous liaison worker at the domestic violence service that assisted me in the lead up to and immediate aftermath of ending my marriage. This person had been the first professional to treat me as an equal and an individual. When she left the DV service I missed her. Over the past couple of years I have run into her a couple of times but it had been quite awhile since the last time. She noticed me in the crowd and smiled and waved at me. During the lunch break we made a beeline for eachother and spent the break talking and catching up.
So the situation was I had been sitting with one friend who knew nothing about my experiences, and caught up with another who had seen me at my absolute worst.
During the lunch break D asked how M and I knew each other. There was a very pregnant pause and I knew I had a decision to make. I could lie and hide or I could be honest. M would support me either way, that was a given (provided the story I told wasn't too extreme).
I chose the latter. I said outright that M had been working at the DV service when I reached out for help towards the end of my abusive marriage. Then I waited for the world to end.
Only it didn't.
D and I talked later and she told me she had suspected but didn't actually know. I had kept quiet about my experiences while at my placement. I didn't think people needed to know. And more than that I wanted to be me - student, not me - victim/survivor. If people didn't ask I didn't say anything. If people did ask I said the minimum. With D I didn't talk details and she didn't ask for them. There was no judgement or shame or disgust. There was just an open acceptance, and the hand of friendship. Something I really needed.
I don't think that I had ever considered that my separate little worlds might collide, or what I would or could do if they did. While there was a moment of absolute terror about exposing myself there was also a reasonable assessment about who I was disclosing to, and a trust in that person that it would be treated with empathy.
While, by the time I left the event, there was some small measure of anxiety (the type that says "Oh shit, I really shouldn't have said that.") generally I felt some relief that sometimes when worlds collide they meld rather than crash.
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