It will come. It will go. The outcome is beyond my control. Unless I say the wrong thing. Or wear the wrong thing. Or I cry too much. Or not enough. It will come. It will go. And I will survive regardless of what they say.
I am more than my assault. I am more than a guilty or not guilty verdict. I am the truth. My body will not allow me to forget. Ever. I will go. I will stand. I will share my truth. I will bask in the knowledge that every fiber of my being has witnessed and felt that truth. I will fight back against his words; like my body that morning, recoiling from the rough touch of his calloused hands. I will survive. I am neither solely a victim or survivor. I am both.
I see my victim and survivor reflected in the mirror; in the faces of my daughters. The contrast of strength and weakness, tugging and pulling my mind from darkness to light in the blink of an eye. I stand proud, while my inner self shutters in fear. I am both brave and terrified—empowered and enslaved by the violation of my being.
And despite the contradictions living within my own body, I will persist. There is no other choice. I am a woman. I am her mom-my example is her roadmap. I am her beacon.
Today, I got dates for my own sexual assault trial. In America someone is sexually assaulted every 92 seconds; I am a statistic. 💜
Keeper of The Farol