Something amazing happened yesterday. I cried and cried as a wrote the post I shared. I cried like it had just happened. I reread it countless times to make sure it was right. Each time I cried less. Writing that post brought back so many hurtful memories.
But… then I felt stronger. And, as the day went on, I received messages and comments and people sending good thoughts (even if they didn’t know what to say). Friends from middle school, high school, college, and the rest of my adult life came together to bring me strength, to support me. I woke up this morning feeling refreshed. Feeling so much stronger. Feeling like such a good mom for sharing my story.
Today I am stronger, and I have you to thank. So thank you. Thank you for your kind words, thank you
for your support. Thank you for your unneeded apologies, your tears and your smiles. To those of you that didn’t know what to say, I know you thought good thoughts and sent them my way. It is ok to not say anything sometimes. Thank you for reading it, and thank you for supporting me. Thank you for sharing the post so that others that might find comfort in it can read it. Thank you for your love and your friendship, your virtual hugs, and the hugs I got in person. Thank you for being in my life.
Previous post in case you missed it:
STATISTICS BIND US TOGETHER IN A WAY THEY NEVER SHOULD…
Over the past few days my Facebook feed has been inundated with posts about the Stanford rape. I couldn’t stand to read the details and tried to avoid it. His name and his face are plastered in my mind, however, just from reading the titles. So the instant I saw a post about the two heroes, I read that and shared that. Those were the faces I wanted to see. In that article I read a horrifying account of what had happened. I then intentionally searched, not for the rapist’s statements, not for his father’s disgusting words, but for the victim’s letter. The warrior. It was her words that I wanted to read (if anything). I mustered up the courage and read those 12 pages last night.
My friend said it best today: “I hate that statistics bind us together in a way they never should”. Yes, this. My stomach was in knots last night as I read this woman’s thoughts. I was reminded of my own feelings. Feelings that over the last 13 years I’ve finally managed to push out of my life (for the most part). Feelings that make me want to crawl in a hole and never come out. I felt like I was reliving my experience from 13 years ago. It’s still hard to say. I remember having to force the word out. Rape. Read more…