Lissa Curtis

Photo: Lissa Curtis

Editor’s Note: Lissa Curtis is the survivor of a sexual assault. While the assault is not discussed here, parts of this conversation may have a triggering effect to some readers. Please take care while reading.

Living Crue: Every story has a first and a last chapter. Your story hasn’t ended yet. And it does have a final chapter being written. But let’s start in a place where you’re comfortable talking generally about the experience you had 8 years ago.

Lissa: Yeah, I feel my heart racing right away.

[pausing for breath]

Unfortunately, I am one of many women who have a story of sexual assault and rape. I never thought it would be me, you know, I thought I was safe. I never thought I would experience such horrific abuse. But I did. But I did. So … sorry, yeah, sorry. [taking deep breaths]

I am struggling with what to say to you, knowing —Wow, I didn’t want…this is harder than what I thought all of a sudden. No. It’s OK. I am usually really quick with my words, but I am a bit nervous all of a sudden. I’m ok.

Can you ask me again?

You had said that you never thought this could happen to you.

L: Yeah, I would say most women kind of just think that. They think that [they] wouldn’t go through something so horrific. That would just turn their life inside out into the point where I just felt like I had to start my life over from zero. Just crawl out of that dark hole and try to find some sliver of light to keep going. Yeah, I never thought it would be me. I never thought it would be me. My perpetrator was someone I trusted. Was someone very influential in my life and my career. You let your guard down when you trust someone, to some extent. I think we all do. And that’s their “in.” They see the guard is down and they take advantage of what is usually a person with a big heart and soul and with big passion. So I was definitely taken advantage of.

When you decided to crawl out and go toward the light, when was this on the timeline? When did that inner voice say OK, I’ve got to make this decision?

L: Pretty much really soon, very soon after my assault.  I knew I had to make a decision, knowing that I had to make it just for me personally, but I knew that if I didn’t speak up about what I had experienced, I would send more victims to this perpetrator when I knew that I could prevent this from happening to another person. So, that was my motivation and when you talk about seeing that sliver of light, all I had to do was picture specific people who I knew were influenced by this man, and I was willing to do anything. I was willing to sacrifice my career. I was willing to share my name and my face. I was willing to go through what ended up to be years of ongoing abuse and continues almost 8 years later.

All I had to do was flip the switch in my mind. Because I truly believe that, you know, I wasn’t the first victim of this person and I wasn’t going to be the last, unfortunately. All I could think was whoever was before me, if they had spoken out, if they had the guts, if they had the bravery to go public, to speak out, then I wouldn’t be in the situation. So, I had to turn it in my mind to think of the next man, the next woman, and do everything I could in my power to try to protect them from going through such horror.

Earlier when we spoke, you told me you made the decision, initially, not to talk about [the assault] after it happened. You didn’t want anyone to know.

L: That’s true. And I almost didn’t believe what had happened to me was real. To some extent, it felt like a dream and it’s a really common thing to experience when you’re in a traumatic state in your brain. You’re just trying to keep yourself alive. And so it didn’t almost feel real. Making it back to my home, yes, I just didn’t one hundred percent feel like it had happened.

B: But I knew the moment she walked through the door something awful happened.

What were your first thoughts when you looked at her and thought something was wrong?

B: It was immediately when she came in through the door—to look at her—it was like she was a shell of a person. Lissa is so full of life, so positive, and so loving and wonderful. She also wasn’t able to hug. So that was a huge red flag at the very beginning. We’re so close, our family, so close. To have her not want to get a hug when you first get home is just one hundred percent out of character for her. The crazy thing this is, this is going to sound funny, but I had a dream when she was away.

I was at a friend’s house in Virginia. This is just nuts. I had a dream in the middle of the night [on the] night she left. We both left the same day. I had a dream that she was in a white car and was in an accident. I saw her blood all over the car. I jolted awake. I didn’t know if she was alive or dead in this dream.  I don’t have dreams like that. I was just so shaken up. So I kept trying to get a hold of her. But she was with the perpetrator so she couldn’t really talk, and all she said was “I’m dealing with it” or something to that effect that was vague. So I watched her [performance] on the computer. Because I still needed to make sure she’s OK, that she’s on the stage. But it was from far away. I feel like if it was closer, I even would’ve known, as a mother. So, I let go. But the moment [she] walked in the door when she came home, I knew that something bad happened. I knew that that dream meant something, and I had wished—and I wish now—that we had flown halfway across the world to get her.

You don’t want to talk about it. You want to pretend it never happened. When was the moment you decided “OK I need to stand up now?”

L: I remember a lot of tears. A lot of shaking. A lot of night terrors. Honestly, I was in no state of any type of human decency. But I just had that gut instinct that this is what I had to do, no matter how much I was going to suffer or how much I was suffering even at the time.

And so what is step #1 after you make that decision?

L: One was going to the police to report him. Next to the ER. And it had been too long of a time for them to get a rape kit to possibly identify [him]. And soon after we learned that local law enforcement, this was out of their hands, and they couldn’t take it any further. Which was unfortunate. They were actually really wonderful in the moment. I am very grateful to those first officers we dealt with, but it was out of their hands, and it went to the FBI for investigation.

B: I did want to say the local police department was very good to us. We’re very thankful for them, and we went back a couple years later to thank the officer. Because he just knew. He said he was a dad and he had girls and he just knew. When we had the FBI come in, that was not the same feeling.

At one point did you say, “I need to do something more to help women like me.”

L: Yes. And oddly enough, your question is perfect because 8 years prior, really soon after the trauma, I had also kind of a crazy… I don’t know, vision or dream, whatever you will. I was on the couch and barely able to move. And I had this clear vision, a dream of building a safe place for survivors.

It was in quite immense detail, and I laughed. [laughing] I thought “This is my life right now, and I’m getting ready to pursue legal battles, and I’m suicidal and my PTSD is through the roof, and I’m being told I’m like a prisoner of war [with PTSD], and so … I just laughed. I laughed it off and I shoved it somewhere in my memory. Then about 4 1/2, 5 years post trauma, the first bug as it were that was just like bubbling up in my spirit was wanting to give back [especially to] all the local crisis centers that helped me. So I created the Be Brave Gala.

We’ve held it 3 times and raised over $60,000 for 3 different crisis centers. And it worked out and that was the first bug. And funny enough the therapist I was working with at the time told me not to do it. She was like, “You’re too fragile. Don’t do it.” I was like, “Well too bad I’m doing it!” and I will find another therapist. Thank you very much.

So talk about listening to your gut and intuition. I thought, “I don’t care how crazy it sounds. I just can’t shake this need off of me.” And that was the beginning of what led to opening my nonprofit. We started with the Be Brave Gala and gained quite a large following, especially because they’re giving back to the crisis center. We gained a large following because we brought in many types of different art, protection dogs, martial arts, singers, dancers. It was a very high-end event.

I just had to give back to these people. I mean, they sat with me for hours and hours, days sometimes. They would cry with me, they would hand me a box of tissues, they would hold my hand, you know, with permission, they would sit in court. There was nothing they didn’t do for me.

B: Yeah, they sat with us in courtrooms; they sat with us when the FBI was interrogating; they sat with the family, the rest of us.

L: I was the client of theirs that, for a handful of different therapists, was too much to handle.  I was too complex of a case [for lawyers] to tackle, given the international component, given all the complexities. They even helped me find a counselor who was not afraid of anything. You know, when I walked into that first counseling she said “There’s nothing you can’t tell me. I’m not afraid.”

So anyway, they’ve just helped me in so many ways. I could go on and on forever and then write a book on all the ways I’ve been helped immensely by this group of people.

At the time were you just doing what people said? Did you start formulating a plan and putting a team together?

B: [looking at Lissa] I’m curious what you’re going to say. Because [you] really were not “with it” then. We did the planning. I don’t know what you remember.

L: My mom’s right. The first 18 months and even 2 years was me relying on my mother, my father, and my husband for any type of care I needed … I couldn’t stomach any type of food besides a liquid form for a long time. They brought me to any and all therapy sessions. And of course, the legal and meetings and aspects…

B: So, we kind of lead all of it, not having much knowledge of what you do with this kind of trauma. I don’t think there’s any well-worn path, so you don’t really know which way to turn. So we called a friend who knew a lawyer, and [we went] to the local police and they have an advocate. And so, it just becomes this path that you’ve never been on and people don’t speak about. So that’s another reason why we’re advocates. I know I help parents of a lot of these trauma survivors to help them navigate.

They’ll ask us questions: “Which way to go, and what was this like, what was that like?” It was all trial and error. The therapist Lissa talked about, that one that was not a good fit—it was the crisis center at CCCNH that said, “If it’s not a right fit, you don’t go … you will find someone that is the right fit.”

There is a physical element to this trauma that no one talks about. Are you comfortable at all talking [more] about [that]?

L: Yeah, I could go on and on. Early on it felt like there was just a sex tape playing across my brain nonstop that I could not turn off. It was horrific. Horrific. I would just see the assault over and over again. I would lose my breath all the time and I couldn’t be touched. God forbid that anyone touch me without my permission, but I needed to see them. I couldn’t hug people, couldn’t touch anyone. Sleeping was brutal. Just getting night terrors. Pretty much every evening for the first few years was difficult. When it got dark out, my brain would go back and remember the trauma, and I would see specific things and moments and hear things in my head. I couldn’t, as much as I would will it away, I just couldn’t turn it off.

The loss of appetite. I feel like people don’t talk about the physical body, my body tightened up so much. I’m a professional ballerina. I’m very, very flexible with my training over the past few decades. But I couldn’t touch my toes. I was like oh my gosh “I can’t bend forward. I can’t go backwards.” My body was so tight. So, I needed a lot of bodywork just to get my body to actually relax. And that was really interesting to experience.

B: It was from being in that fetal position that she was stuck in for so long.

And Mom, you’re going through your own trauma. It’s a different trauma and how much were you fighting yourself, the desire to…

B: You’re going to make me cry.

L: It’s okay, you can cry.

B: It was hard. We were going on 3 hours asleep each night because we were all on suicide watch. So that was the first couple years. I had shingles twice. The stress on a close family is more intense, especially when you don’t understand the enemy. We didn’t really understand how much danger were we in? It’s a real part of the trauma. Like you said, very different from what Lissa went through, but we absolutely had our own trauma. We were walking parallel just differently.

L: Yeah, the secondary trauma is huge and I feel like that’s not talked about a lot. Yes, what I went through was horrific, but what my husband and my mother and my father and my siblings [went through]?  I mean, it’s also extremely horrific because it almost, from what my simple understanding is, can sometimes be worse for that secondary trauma victim because they don’t know everything that happened. I know everything that happened, you know, to the best of my memory. But for them there’s a lot of loose, floating questions. What really happened? How much danger are we in, are we up against? It’s horrible—not talked a lot about. But those key support people that are helping the survivor, I mean, you bet they’re going through it.

B: That is one thing that we have told other trauma survivors. [You] do need people in your life, even if it’s one person. But just somebody that can just really care about you. You don’t have to be a professional to really care about somebody and listen to their story.

How do you handle losing support, someone who was there from the beginning, but is no longer on this journey with you?

L: Great question. My tight inner circle, that has stayed the same. My family and a couple of other people that are just very tight and that we really trust, but beyond that? We’ve had several people walk away and not believe me.  Think I’m out, I don’t know, to make money and become famous for the girl being raped? I mean it’s wild. You see who your true friends are.

I am honestly very blessed that I did have an amazing support system. And the more I am an advocate, and the more I meet people and connect more people, and just [have relationships] with more survivors—I mean, gosh, most of them don’t have anyone else! They don’t have one person! It’s so sad. It’s so sad. It is a huge, huge blessing, a huge miracle when you have even just one person stand by you, and say, “Yes, I believe you. What do you need?” Even if it’s just being a friend.

B: It certainly felt like there were several people, but really, we had supporters coming out of the woodwork for us. When you have even just a few people walk away, the weight of it actually feels like a bigger loss than it really is.

I think it’s too much for a lot of people. That’s why you do need just a core. Whether it’s one, like Lissa said, or just a few. Because people’s stories—they’re just—they’re too much to carry. I think that’s part of it.

The inner voice that told you to get up and fight 8 years ago, and the one that told you it’s time for you to go make that vision happen. What was different?

L: I would say the first voice was more of desperation, of desperately wanting to save the next person. And the second voice? Was a little bit of fighting back. Was a little bit of taking my life back. One of my personal mantras was Be Brave. I got [that] tattooed on my arm as a reminder … I’m not gonna let this ruin my life. Even though I’m still walking through this difficult road.

You got up and went to your mom and said, “We’re going to open up this school.”

B: [laughing] Maybe Lissa should expand on that!

L: I did! I had a vision very early on post-trauma. My father-in-law, oddly enough, was in town when I had this vision. I just thought this doesn’t make any sense!

And what I saw was a brick building, and it had a big archway and it had “Safe Haven Ballet” written on it very clearly. And I saw 2 pairs of hands peeking through the clouds, and I thought it represented the hands of God, perhaps. And one had a hammer, and one had a pair of pointe shoes. And I heard the phrase ever so clearly: “You’re not done dancing.” At that point, I decided I was never going to do ballet again, because it was attached to so much trauma. And the hammer I heard: “You have things to build, you have things to do.”  I was like, “No! No!” That was my vision that I laughed off, but I never forgot it. It was so clear and totally out of the norm.

B: And the name.

L: And to have the name. I was like what is Safe Haven? What does it mean? My first thought was we had worked, as a family, with Haven, which is one of the crisis centers on the seacoast of New Hampshire. So, I immediately was like, oh!  It was, like, a whole waking up here, and it’s a safe place for survivors to come in and get help and get resources. So time went by…

B: Years.

L: Years, yes, years went by and I just sort of tucked that away and didn’t talk about it. And as I mentioned, I had that stirring in my soul to create the Be Brave Gala as a way to give back to the crisis centers that had helped me. But I was just ready for something more. And one of the biggest helps I had found, through many years of many different types of therapies and types of [methods] to bring my body back to neutral, was movement and breath. And so I had done, for a short time, a trauma sensitive yoga class. [It was] so gentle and I thought this is great! I got myself into karate years back, kind of in the middle of all this. I earned my black. I did and I got up the courage and I went back to the barre, and I started from scratch and worked my way up to be on a professional level again with ballet. But what I have found is the movement and breath component was helping me so much. I was in all the talk therapies and all those kinds of things, and I was loving not having to talk about my trauma. I was talking about it a lot and dealing in processing that part of my life. And so to connect the big picture, I just felt in my spirit that Safe Haven Ballet was meant to be a place where survivors could come for free, no charge, and take movement and body and art classes. So that’s how we kicked off.

We kicked off at a local dance school that I was teaching at. I offered free classes once a week throughout 2019.  That’s how Safe Haven Ballet began. Safe Haven started offering trauma sensitive ballet classes, and since then we have expanded to other art forms. We now offer trauma sensitive Pilates, trauma sensitive yoga. We do a paint night that’s very popular. We just did a cookie decorating class and we have some work on the horizon that’s coming. So that’s how we started.

How much of the mission of Safe Haven is re-authoring the story that you’re in? Making new meaning out of what happened?

L: So as much as I created Safe Haven for other survivors, it’s really for myself, too! I was the first to kick off these classes. Teaching and being in the front of the room—the classes are very small—my gosh, it brought me more healing than I ever could’ve maybe dreamt about. Because now I was flipping the script; I was changing my path. I was, you know, I was no longer the victim; I was a survivor; I was the thriver. “Let me show you what I’ve been through, in a sense. Let me show you what I’ve overcome. I’m going to show you what we can do to help you.”

B: I agree with her. I lead the paint night and I have found healing for myself as well. That’s second hand trauma. I am not an artist professionally…I tried to paint [the visions] she saw, to remind her that this is where it started. And for other people to know it started with a dream years ago.

L: That I laughed at!

B: And yet, here we are, in this space and it’s happening. We keep the classes really small, less than six, so that it’s quiet and brings healing. It’s helped us just as much as it helps others.

L:  And the other big part of why this is so special is [because] survivors often feel alone. They feel alone, plain and simple. So to come to a place and to actually kind of … I mean a lot of these participants have become friends with each other. They are friends. And there’s just that special bond of you’ve been through hell, you’ve been through hell, hey look at us go, look where we are now. Some of them are in the middle of legal battles like myself. Others are considering bringing forth legal cases, and some of them, their trauma happened decades ago. There’s a whole span, but so cool to see friends be made knowing you’ve gone through just hardship.

You just gave me several different identities for yourself: victim, survivor, thriver … ballet dancer, wife, daughter, sister, mom, advocate—how does it all go in the next part of your story?

L: I feel like I have given myself permission to wear a lot of hats! I love it, I love it. Just the ups and downs of even my journey, that I don’t feel like I am a great advocate. I definitely have my moments for sure, but I think a lot of what draws people, I would say, to Safe Haven, and maybe even to me specifically, is that I’m just very raw. Very real. I just have nothing to hide. I am very transparent about my struggles. I don’t pretend to have it all together—because nobody does. How does that fit going forward? I think it’s just adding to my strength. I’ve been through so much, and I love being a mom. I love being a wife. I love being a teacher. I love being a ballet dancer. I love taking the stage. And I feel like it’s just helping propel Safe Haven forward, organically.

Visit www.safehavenballet.org to see upcoming performances, fundraisers, and events.