Rape and My Dream Job: Part One

 27. RAPE AND MY DREAM JOB: PART ONE 

Hello and welcome to Raped 25 Years. At this time, I share with you my journey to heal from sexual assault and abuse. Don’t forget to stay to the end, in order to enjoy my gem of positivity. 

This is the beginning of a three-part series on my experience of living my “dream job”. In parts of the series, there will be horrifyingly graphic moments. I make no apology. I lived it, and in fact, I’m still living with the effects. That “dream job” has scarred my psyche.

It was my first job and I was 19 years old. I have a love of animals and I wanted to run my own farm one day. So I accepted a job offer as a farm hand in the meat department of a chicken company. I had family that worked in the same company. I was excited, grateful and happy to be starting work. I was told by the head manager, Mr M, I would be able to work as an assistant to the company vet. I had the qualifications. But I had to complete the three month probation period on a farm first. 

I started as a permanent casual on one of the larger farms. I was told by the farm’s manager, Mr Jones, that the farm was a happy place. I was not to do anything to rock the boat. I was assigned four sheds to take care of. The chickens are grown from hatching to six weeks. 

I found the work hard at first. I didn’t have the same amount of muscle as the men so I was no where near as strong. I was the only female on the farm. Within a week a worker (I will name as Derek) started to hurt me. He hit me, spat on me and pushed me off the moving farm vehicles. An older worker (I will call him Sam) made comments about my bra cup size. I made sounds of discomfort. I was told that Sam was “just like that” and “he doesn’t mean anything by it”. I said nothing else. Obviously it was a normal thing that happened in every workplace. Six weeks later the vertebrae in my lower back were fractured. Derek had pushed me off the moving tractor while it was pulling the trailer. 

I worked at losing weight. I hoped it would  make work easier. I found  I was very good at losing weight. I had been walking up to 10 kilometres a day at work. I developed the rule of not eating before four o’clock in the afternoon. Four o’clock was the end of my working day.

Another worker (I will call him Jacob) was moved onto the farm from another chicken farm. Sam had been moved to a smaller farm and I was glad he was moved. Jacob made fun of Derek, calling him a dick. So Derek started to touch me. Especially in front of Jacob. Jacob told me he would protect me against Derek’s attentions. But Jacob started pushing me up against the shed walls. He did more than just touch, but raped me mercilessly. He said it was his payment for protecting me. I still said nothing. As traumatic as I found each and every violent sexual assault, I thought it was just one of those things that normally happens at every workplace. I believed I had to put up with this abuse. 

As you can see, even from the very start of my employment, I was bullied by men who were perpetrators. It is so very easy to look back on this and say how stupid I was for remaining, even though I’d only been working such a short time. Mr Jones the manager was a perpetrator in verbal threats. Sam was a perpetrator by making unwanted sexual comments. Jacob and Derek were perpetrators of both physically traumatic abuse and constant sexual assaults.

It’s not hard to see that when you think you’ve attained your dream, there’s a rotten piece of the whole. Perpetrators come in all shapes and sizes. As is the irreversible trauma damage that they do. But though the perpetrators think that they have won and broken you, it doesn’t have to be the case. Yes, the trauma the perpetrators inflicted on me means I can never be the same as before the crimes committed against me, but I can still heal. And heal into something more beautiful than before. So, if I can heal, you can too.

In looking for the gem this time, I have been looking through the internet for appropriate quotes. This is a sentiment expressed in many quotes, however is not a direct quote from any one person. Feel free to share it with others:

“It takes using all the broken pieces of our lives, to create a beautiful mosaic” 

This is only too true. Those perpetrators broke up my life and sense of self. But I’m choosing to use those pieces for something different, yet something that will be just as beautiful. Or even more beautiful than I might otherwise have been. And you can too.

Thank you for joining with me as I showed you the start of my “dream job” experience. Feel free to leave a comment on what beauty you see in your broken pieces. Don’t forget to join me next time, to learn more in part two of this three-part series. And until next time, just breathe and believe.

With love and care, Ruby