Over 6 months ago, I published an article called 10 Years of Silence. I sent the article in as “Anonymous”  because I wasn’t ready for the internet world to know the most intimate detail of my life.

Now I am.

When I was 4, I was sexually abused by someone close to my family. When I was 16, I finally came forward and got help. I wrote the article because I thought it would in some way free me. I was able to get my feelings onto paper err...  screen. I was wrong. That wasn’t the end for me, in fact it was only the beginning.

They say that you shouldn’t let your past define your present, and for the most part they would be right, but in some ways it has to. Without your past, you wouldn’t be the person you are today, none of us would. We would all be heaps of atoms and membranes slogging through the earth like mud in a rain storm. There would be no reason to get to know anyone because we would all be the same.

We all hold stories, secrets that make up our anatomy. They are the reason we are scared of the dark, or scared of the drink. They are the reason we cry at romance movies or we don’t. They are the reason we wake up in the morning and fight.

Fight for a better tomorrow, fight for equal opportunities, fight for the chance to be someone more than the person who was born into a world that told them they could never be more than a busboy or a gang banger.
Show me someone who has suffered, who has felt pain or loss or grief or hurt and I will show you a fighter. I will show you someone capable of climbing Everest if they wanted to. Capable of graduating high school. Or college. Capable of being a better parent than the one who raised them.

Too many times people are left mangled in the streets believing that that was always their destiny. What they don’t realize is they were put there so that when they rose up, they would exceed higher than mountain tops and clouds.

People love routing for underdogs. We have all been an underdog.

I was sexually abused. It took over 10 years for me to heal from that pain, but it is 10 years that I would not live any other way.

I fell into the hole. I felt the heat of the devil breathing on my neck coercing me into taking my own life, but I am here. I am here. You are here. We are not done yet. There is still tomorrow. There is still next month. Next year. There will be hills and there will be valleys. Sometimes we are on top of the world, sometimes at the bottom of the sewage drain. But the sun still rises every day and I will damned if I do not rise with it. There are bad people, horrible people, but do not let them affect you. Do not let them blow out the fire that burns inside of you. It may be a flicker, maybe even just a few warm embers. But either way, it continues, and as you fan it, it will grow.

I was sexually abused. It took over 10 years for me to heal from that pain, but it is 10 years that I would not live any other way.

I will keep repeating that phrase over and over again, because each time I do, it sinks deeper into me like armor, covering every inch of flesh that was once ripped and torn.

Let the wind come, let the storm rage on, let the thunder rubble, and the lightning strike. We will not move from this place, we will not be scared into oblivion. In this moment, at this time, you will rise. You will rise. You will rise. 

Innocence can be taken, it can be ripped away, it can be stolen. No matter how loud you scream, the wind will carry your voice to a place where no one can hear it. You will find yourself lost, beaten, bruised, and alone. But you will rise.

Innocence can be taken, but not everything is lost.

Not everything is lost.