I was barely two years old when I first started speaking up. My mother believed me; the system said I was too young. Not articulate enough. I could be confused. There wasn’t enough precedent to investigate. Two years later, I was four years old and finally considered “articulate enough.” I was interviewed a lot. I … Continue reading I was four years old when I learned what “justice” means for victims in this world
personal stories
On exploring the big, hard things: it’s time to tell my story
I know that I am far from alone. As isolated as I've felt over the years, my story is unfortunately not unique. Childhood sexual abuse is rampant. Like many fellow survivors, I've struggled with even talking about mine because I know that it pales in comparison to the horrors others have gone through. But that kind of diminishing is a symptom of the self-loathing I developed as a coping mechanism to deal with what happened to me. I survived something horrific; and not only did I survive, I have thrived.
