#4 – Learning to Fly

When I was seventeen, I was sexually assaulted. I told no one until I was nineteen. I can still count on my fingers the people who know. Or rather, the people that I told. My story was shared without my consent, and my side has never been heard save for those designated a finger.

#3- Charting 3 years of healing and acceptance

My healing journey has not been like climbing a mountain, but more like traversing a mountain range. New challenges regularly present themselves, old ones are overcome but may periodically resurface. I am nowhere near the end – if there is one – of my healing. Nonetheless, I have come far in building a loving and forgiving relationship to myself.

#2- Empathy for Who I Was

Once I recognised the person of those hours as the hurt and confused and scared person they were, I could acknowledge the hurt and confused and scared person I had continued to be since. Learning to have empathy for myself has been the most important step in my healing process.

#1-Overcoming Denial

I didn’t talk to anyone about my assault for fifteen months. In fact, I don’t really think I even acknowledged it had happened myself until I finally spoke about it. I had tried to rationalise it, to retain some kind of control, so that on the surface nobody would know that anything had ever happened. Not even myself.