This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.
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Original story
I am not sure what being healed means. I don't know if I am supposed to forget of forgive, because I don't think I can forget but I can and will forgive. I think healing is doing what makes you feel better, and getting up trying to be okay, going to bed trying not to think about it, and one day we won't have to try anymore. I believe healing is helping, is making others feel support and love. When I help others, I see the pain from outside, and I helps me understand my own, it helps me heal. We are amazing people that won't give up on the beauty of life.
I´ve never talked about sex abuse with my friends, at least not of when it happened to me, but I feel like people should know and specially I feel the need of getting it out. I feel that somehow, letting the story out, might help me release the pain I´ve been bottling up for years. I remember being touched when I was a little girl, I can't and I really don't try to remember how far it went and how many times it happened, it is not something I want to remember. It wasn't until a few years ago that I did. I was at a party, having drinks and fun with my friends, I was 17 years old. It was supposed to be just us, and it's part of why I drank so carelessly, but other boys arrived later that night. I started talking with one of them, I remember more drinks, smoke, and the smell of cigars that still give me chills from time to time. I could barely walk and he took me to the barn behind, I know there was someone if not him that recorded what happened, and that still followed me years later. I tried talking to my friends about it, most of the guys just said it was my fault, how could I do that, I should’ve at least used one of the rooms, some girls told me not to worry, and there was just one that said he would take care of it. He never did. I didn't realize it was abuse until a year later, before that I believed my friends and felt ashamed of not being able to stop him and doing it out in the open. I don't drink anymore like I used to, I don't go out as much, and even though I love horses I am terrified of being in a barn. I now stand up for girls that get abused, I take care of others at parties when I see they had a lot to drink, even if I don't know them. I went out and protested for safer places, I sign petitions, I listen to their stories and admire them for being strong enough to speak, and I try to help them, but this helps ME heal. I guess that in a way it is what I needed somewhere along the process, I needed protection and someone to believe what I was saying, someone to listen and to stand by my side. I feel like I am made of steel somedays, standing side by side with my sisters and my gals, sometimes I feel this strength even when I'm by myself. But there are other days that I'm just a castle made of poker cards, and with the most gentle touch I can fall apart. Every time I fall, I like to believe I come back up stronger, I truly do believe it, but boy it can be a long way down and really hard the moment I hit the ground. It helps me knowing that I'm not alone, and just like I will fight for every one of us, others will fight for me too. The abuse is not something that defines me, but it did shape me and is one of the thousands of stories that made me who I am. I am a fighter, just like all of you. I am bold, helpful, empathetic, loving and strong. I know you are too.
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