I am the girl who didn’t speak up.
The girl who was sexually abused and raped by two men in her family.
The girl who kept the men’s secrets for fear of causing trouble.
The girl who thought it was all her fault.
The girl who told herself it’s not that bad.
Just brush it off and be strong.
I am the girl who contemplated suicide throughout her life because it was that bad.
I am the daughter of a mother that called her a liar when she finally did speak up.
I am the girl who HATES her mother.
And as sick as it is, I’m the girl that would be lying if I said that I don’t still love my mother.
And that as much as I HATE her, all I’ve ever wanted was to be loved by her.
Something that I have never felt to this day.
As a result of this story, I became the girl who was depressed.
The girl who would cut herself in a locked bathroom.
Because physical pain felt better than emotional pain.
I am the girl who nearly drove off a cliff and into the ocean.
Just so that I could finally end it all.
I became the girl that didn’t care about life.
The girl who thought it would simply be easier to end the hurt.
I am the girl who swore never to share any of this.
The girl who would rather take this to her grave rather than deal with it.
And look weak.
I am not the girl seeking sympathy.
My story doesn’t need your pity.
I have chosen to confront and share my story so it hurts a little less.
I share my story because I’m not the scared little girl who doesn’t speak up.
I am the woman who now understands her story is not unique.
What happened to me is still happening every single day.
And not enough is being done about it.
My trauma still affects me every single day.
I have nightmares nearly every night.
It’s terrifyingly vivid. The smells, the sights, the sounds.
I know there are women like me out there. And girls like me out there.
Scared to speak up like I was.
Brave women and girls that need an outlet to finally speak up.
To know they are not alone. And that they are not being weak by opening up.
They are being brave. Courageous. Strong. Fearless.
So, I write not only to confront my own pain, anger and lack of self-worth,
But I also write with the hopes that maybe, just maybe it will help other brave women and girls speak up.