On Thursday, October 8, I’ll be at the Liberty Grand in Toronto for The Gatehouse’s 8th Annual Healing the Voice Within Gala. I’ll be getting up in front of everyone for five minutes to thank them for being there.
Five minutes. You wouldn’t think five minutes would require much thought, especially from someone who has never exactly suffered from a shortage of words. But, naturally, I’ve been thinking about what I want to say, and more importantly, what a room full of people coming together to support The Gatehouse actually represents.
I write a lot about healing on this site. I write about the difficult parts because, well, they’re often the parts that demand to be written about. Trauma. Addiction. Anger. Asking for help. The old stuff that unexpectedly comes bubbling back to the surface decades later.
But healing isn’t always about what hurts.
Sometimes healing looks like The Gatehouse’s 8th annual Healing the Voice Within Gala.
For those who don’t know, The Gatehouse is a Toronto organization that supports survivors of childhood sexual abuse. It has become an important part of my own life, first through my own healing and later through volunteering, facilitating groups, serving on the board, and doing whatever else I can to support the work.
One of the things I have seen repeatedly at The Gatehouse is just how difficult it can be for men to walk through that door.
Men are still remarkably good at carrying things alone. We learn to compartmentalize. We learn to get on with life. We learn to say we’re fine. Some of us can keep saying we’re fine for decades.
Then something happens when a man finally sits in a room with other men and realizes he doesn’t have to explain why something that happened years ago still matters.
He isn’t the only one.
There is enormous power in that realization. I’ve experienced it myself, and I’ve had the privilege of watching it happen for other men as a facilitator.
That’s part of what people will be supporting when they gather at the Liberty Grand on October 8.
Yes, it’s a Gala. There will be dinner, conversation and entertainment. Singer, songwriter, bestselling author and playwright Tara MacLean will be the keynote speaker. OPP Sergeant Kerry Schmidt will be our MC, and violinist Lara St. John will perform live.
It promises to be a wonderful evening.
But underneath all of that is something much quieter.
Somewhere, there is a man who hasn’t told anyone yet.
There is another who has spent years convincing himself that what happened wasn’t really that bad.
There is someone who has finally decided he wants help but has no idea what that is supposed to look like.
And there are men who have already walked through the doors of The Gatehouse and discovered that healing does not require them to erase their past. It gives them an opportunity to stop letting that past quietly run their lives.
That is what a room full of people at the Liberty Grand will really be supporting.
I’ve spent a lot of time on this blog writing about the messy side of healing. Maybe I haven’t spent enough time writing about what gets built from it.
Community gets built.
Friendships get built.
Trust gets rebuilt.
Men who once struggled to speak become men willing to sit beside another survivor while he finds his own words.
And occasionally, one of those men gets handed a microphone at a Gala and told he has five minutes.
No pressure.
So on October 8, I’ll stand up there and do my best to thank everyone in that room for supporting The Gatehouse.
I suspect five minutes won’t be nearly enough.