Here's the thing about sexual assault. Your timeline instantly, irrevocably deviates. You will never be the girl or woman you were on track to being. And you will never know who that person might have been.
Hopefully you don't slip into a fully terrible new universe. Or at least not for too long, but you'll never know what you might have been like were you not violated.
Would I have taken more risks, or less dumb ones. Would I laugh more and drink less. Would I have trapped myself in that bad relationship. What would I think about late at night instead of this?
What would I be talking about in couples therapy 25 years later. Would I be in couples therapy.
Would I feel like I push down rage. all. the. time. Would I be less guarded.
This unknowing, this core vertigo of the self, happens whether you did report or #WhyIDidntReport or even knew, or know, how to exactly articulate what happened to you.
"Ford left the Washington area and never moved back...Quietly, she garnered a reputation for her research on depression, anxiety and resilience after trauma — telling almost no one what she herself had endured." washingtonpost.com/local/christin…
