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In fall 2019, 51���� hosted “Through the Survivors’ Lens,” an exhibit featuring 52 photographs submitted by 20 survivors of childhood trauma, sexual assault, dating violence, stalking, harassment, and domestic violence to document their responses to prompts such as: What does survivorhood look like to you? What did the experience of trauma look like to you? How does your assault or trauma still affect you?

The exhibit, made possible by the Women's Center, Survivor Advocacy Program, Health Promotion, Counseling and Psychological Services, the College of Fine Arts and University Galleries, Office of Instructional Innovation, 51���� Libraries, Better Bystanders, Ambassadors to the Survivor Advocacy Program, and the Student National Medical Association, continues 51����’s commitment to providing a compelling, visual means for provoking thought and reflection within the community, building on 2017’s  and 2018’s  exhibits.

You can view an immersive, 360-degree video experience of the exhibit — or see below the content presented in a traditional gallery. Survivors were offered the chance to provide additional context, as well as a caption, for their submissions. When provided, the context introduces the submission immediately above the photographs. Click each photo to view its caption.

360-Degree Immersive Exhibit

Tara Lynn Clossman, my best friend, was shot and killed by her ex-boyfriend after she left their abusive relationship for another man. This is a sound wave of her voice. You never think something like this could happen to someone you love, until it does. I stand with survivors as a survivor of loss.

I'm an incest survivor, from age three to a month before I turned sixteen, by my own father's doing. I then experienced adult relational trauma and adult bullying. The mental health community is still not adequately prepared to treat me, or the millions of people like me who survived sustained, chronic trauma, but it's beginning to look a little brighter. With public support and education, trauma survivors can come out into the light and begin to authentically heal and live. Thank you for reading this.

I was very drunk at a party and woke up naked next to him. I was 16 and my drunken state was mistaken as consent. "I shouldn't have been underage drinking so it was my fault that I put myself in that position". The next morning I had "friends" asking if I was okay, yet nobody said or did anything the night of. I felt disgusted with my body and immediately showered when I got home. This is how I lost my virginity.

I was assaulted by my first boyfriend when I was in high school. I struggle with chronic illness and he took advantage of me when I was most vulnerable. I chose this photo to represent the peace I am finally starting to slowly feel after years of pain and fear. The sun in the background reminded me of the light I find in my new community and support system as I am finally free from living near him and seeing him everyday.

The book of surviving freshman year correlates with the assault because it happened freshman year and I have been surviving since then and the jar is a symbol of emptiness and fragile just like my existence. The glass could break and release everything that is inside just like my mentality.

My high school boyfriend got tired of waiting for me to be ready to have sex. He cited his raging hormones, blue balls, parent's divorce, depression/anxiety and overwhelming love for me as reasons why what he did was okay. If I had known that the first time would be the start of many years of sexual acts against my will, I like to think I would have walked away from him after the first time. He was someone everyone around him loved to be around, he was cute, funny, smart, athletic, and he chose ME. He said I was his rock, his everything. I was manipulated so many times and in so many ways that I still can't shake the suspicion that I feel for everyone who says they care about me. Love and abuse are so intertwined in my mind that I still can't talk about my abuse without owning credit for part of it. I think to myself, "I loved him, so does it really count as rape?" Of course it was. If it were anyone else's story but my own it would be as clear as day to me. Why are we always harder on ourselves and our own story?

When he called around the time of high school graduation, it had been years since anything had happened. But my pain and PTSD was still very raw and real. I hadn’t told my mother anything, but that phone call made me lose it. I had spent so many years trying to be okay, but without ever asking for help, so I really wasn’t okay. I am so glad that I have the mother I have. I’m so glad she believed me without needing to know anything. We did separate photos of that moment and merged them together.

My focus was on my moving on the path of trauma/victim to survivor. My photos show my anger, to question, and re-questioning, to my final decision that it is okay to tell myself “Yes, I am a survivor.” 

My path started with denial and stating “I hope I am not a victim.” Then I would argue with others, therapist that, “No, I am not a victim.” It was only my brother. It’s not a big deal! It took me a true year to figure out that I am a survivor and to really believe it. I still battle with myself each and every day in stating “I am a survivor.” It is hard but at the end of the day I have a great supportive partner that helps battle the negativity and states “you are beautiful and yes, you are a warrior survivor."

Through the eyes of a survivor who stayed with an abusive man who she loved for many years but chose to break free no matter what

The journey for me has been a long one – over 35 years – and I still experience days when I find myself triggered by something unexpected. I have learned over the years that when that happens it’s beneficial for me to reach at to those individuals who are supportive and can provide insight and validation. I turn to them as a plant turning toward sunlight. These days, most days these days are full of natural light – I am in a much healthier environment here and have grown to my capacity – but it wasn’t always so. There was a time when I was planted in thin soil in a house with no windows. I got sick and barely hung on… I lost a lot of my leaves.

Luckily – I was transplanted to a house with windows – not only does the light shine in daily but the windows open.

I am surrounded by other beautiful flowering plants and someone who tends to me.

I am thriving.

Being sexually assaulted and molested by family members led me to grow up a lot faster than others. When your cut so deep at such a young age, the scars slowly heal but will always be there.

My ex husband spent most of a decade making my life a living hell. Our relationship officially ended the day he pushed me into a bathtub, locked the door, and threatened to murder me. Over the years he prevented me from driving (which I now do), alienated me from friends and family, gaslighted me to the point of mental distress, tried to push me out of a moving car, strangled me, punched me, kicked me, slapped me, and forced himself on me. I have fought my way out of his grip and have worked on healing from trauma and severe depression.