I Was Raped as a Child, and I Choose to Take My Life Back

I was raped as a child. There is no going back.

I will fail to find words.

I’ll feel ashamed of my story.

People will judge. They will misunderstand. They will try to tell me how to feel.

• What is PTSD?

But I am not alone.

We are not alone.

The abuser’s cruelty will turn against them. Because we are as countless as the infinite stars.

We have survived. We were taken to the edge of death, had our heads pushed over the edge of the chasm, to stare into that abyss and then shoved in.

But we held on. We rose from the dark. We survived. I survived.

People will look down on me, but they don’t know how strong I am. What I was able to endure and walk away from.

The world might turn its back on me. But I am not the only survivor.

I’ll hold in my story, until someone else sees the struggle in my eyes, that grim sense of humor; empathy will open a channel between us.

I’ll tell my story. Release all the pain.

And maybe help someone else see they’re more than what they survived. That they have the power inside to overcome and thrive.

I was raped. There is no going back.

I was raped. And I choose not to go back. Or to stay here in the dark.

And I am not alone.

I was not to blame.

I will find the words, the lines, the colors and the strength to heal. I’ll express my pain, and my healing, and my passions. I’ll become something better than I once was.

And like the flowers blooming after winter, I will rise from the mud and grow. Because I am enough.

I was raped as a child. Blunt words, harsh truth.

But I am loved. And capable. I will overcome.

I was raped.

And I am stronger than my pain.

And I choose to take my life back.