You have to tell, even if it’s not perfect.

Somewhere along the way, I decided this blog needed to be perfect. The writing needed to be flawless. But maybe it’s okay just to be real, to tell things how they are. Someone inside is saying it doesn’t matter how you tell it, just tell it, because the isolation that comes from holding the story…

Unspeakable

There is so much that feels unspeakable. So I hold onto it, and it feels like I am screaming in a soundproof glass box, banging on the windows. But nobody sees and nobody hears, and the air is getting thin, and I can’t breathe, and I’m going to die in here… In my mind are…

After Rape…

Today is 19 years since the one rape I know the date of. I was 19. It was brutal. I will never forget the pain of my vagina being torn and ripped, of his weight on top me, of his hands around my throat, of struggling for breath, of being terrified for my life. And…