My three years in the military were defined by my experiences of daily minute to minute sexual harassment and assault.
My name is Liz, I was in the US Army from 1977 to 1980. I was 76 Delta/Papa, which is supply. I was in the 66th maintenance company. I was the first woman in that company and one of only a small number of women on the whole base. It wasn't pleasant. There was a lot of sexual harassment and grabbing and groping and all of that stuff. When I joined the military, women had just integrated with men. We were all in our formation and they said, "Look to your front, look to your back, look to your left, look to your right, we are a family. If you need anything, you come to us." And in the next breath said, "And for you girls out there, you need to know that we do not believe there's any place in this man's army for women. And if we have anything to do with it, not one of y'all will make it through basic training." We had been instantly othered by that drill sergeant.
I got out on December 8th, 1980. I didn't apply for my service connected disability benefits from my sexual trauma until 2017 or '18, and I stopped talking about my military service because I was laughed at by men. So I just kept stuffing everything down further and further. I had never before that time really thought of myself as a Veteran, I was just a girl who'd been in the Army, I wasn't a Veteran. If anybody asked me if I was a Veteran, the answer was no.
So then fast forward to 1993, I went into the field of domestic violence and sexual assault, and I proceeded to stay there for most of 30 years. I was at the DCVA one day. I would pretend I was reading and I had music playing, but there wasn't music playing and I wasn't reading because I was attuned to what was going on around me. And I heard a guy to my left say, "Hey, you wanna have some coffee afterwards?" I ignored him, I kept looking and he said, "Hey, beautiful, you wanna get some coffee?" And his voice was getting louder, and I just sat there and I didn't acknowledge, I didn't look up. I could see outta the corner of my eye, I could see him get up and he said, "Hey, I'm talking to you." And he got closer and he came over and he stood in front of me and he had a cane, and he swung his cane and he hit the bottom of my foot and said, "Bitch, I'm talking to you." I put everything down and I took out my headphones and I looked up and I said, “You touch me again and I will kill you with that cane.” And so over the decades, it got worse.
I've had insomnia for a long time. So there was that depression, anxiety and a lot of anger. I'd never physically abused my children, but I know the yelling was not healthy for them. That was what really was the first time I called the VA for an appointment, was I realized that I needed to do something because I was going downhill fast.
I did CBT and I did talk therapy. I appreciated the woman that I was fortunate to have a woman here in Oregon, she's a Marine and she's amazing. What I appreciated about her was the way she took me through what happened to me, how my experiences connected to how I behave, and how I think and believe today. And so over the years, I've had PTSD therapy, I've had grief therapy doing things like kayaking and hiking, you know, one of the biggest tools is making sure that I'm not sitting home, closing the door on myself and welcoming my deep dark thoughts.
Unfortunately, during my generation before it was the whole, you know, you're crazy thing. And so all those stigmas are stigmas that people who are older than Gen X and probably even Gen X have had to sort through for years. And so making that first call is really hard. Recognizing that you need help and making the phone call are the moments in your mental health journey that you need to be proud of because you did it.
