I write this for my friends who have been sexually abused or assaulted and are afraid to talk about it and the shame it brings.
I write this to tell you that, that shame is not yours to carry, this isn’t your burden. You carry it yes but you did not put it there.
The person who perpetrated against you put it there.
That fear of going to the rape crisis center because you don’t want to talk about it, I walk next to you because I am there right now.
I write this for those who don’t have contact with their blood families because of generational lines of abuse.
I write this for those who have experienced their children being sexually abused.
I write this for those who feel the justice system failed them.
I write this for those who have seen their abusers go to jail.
I write this for the ones who still cannot walk away, because the abuse doesn’t feel or abnormal.
I am sitting with you, you who are still being abused and don’t know what to do.
I write this for those who continue to be abused, spiritually, emotionally, mentally and physically. For those who aren’t sure if what they are living with is abused.
I write this for those that now struggle with chronic health problems because of what trauma does to the body.
You who like me, takes a handful of medications every morning, noon and night just to keep the pain at bay.
I pray for those who are not able to go to therapy.
Those who go weekly and sit on a couch and cry, I know those tears.
I hold the hands of those who have spoken out because they know that bringing it into the light will bring healing.
I also hold the hands of those who don’t want to tell anyone because they are afraid of losing the relationship.
I will walk with you truth bearers, light bringers and those who walk in hope.
I will walk with those still afraid. I will hold your hand as we walk together in through those doors where hope will be sitting at a table of other survivors.
Fearful ones stand up because you are not alone, Not for one minute. The person who hurt you can no longer have that power over you.
I will pick up that sledge hammer with you and knock down those walls of fear that we both carry.
I am with year dear one as you wake up with sheets soaked from nightmare sweats.
I will walk with you, hold your hand and sit on the floor with you.
You are not alone.