Dear You,

It’s the first step that’s the hardest.
Remember that
The next time you’re asked
To step outside of that
Lovely little box
The walls of which
You so desperately cling to

It’s the first mile of a
Thousand-mile journey
That moment when you
Swallow your fears
And swallow your pride
Put your hands on the wheel
And Just drive
So that by the time you land in London
Alone and totally free
You’re no longer shackled to the
What Ifs
And the Should haves

It’s the first wobbly step away from
That job that’s always defined you
It’s that first moment you realize
This just
Isn’t
Worth
It.
That moment you walk away into
The darkness of the unknown
And just keep walking
One foot in front of the other
So that by the time you arrive on the other side
You wonder why you were ever scared
In the first place

And it’s that first tentative step towards telling your truth
Stepping outside of that safe, secure box you’ve built
Walls of secrets plastered in shame
Built up around your soul
For protection and concealment.

It’s that step up onto the witness stand,
That shaky hand on the Bible
The first question: Who are you?
And you respond, shaky but certain
I am victim. I am survivor.
I am one and the same
And though I feel fear,
I will no longer shrink at the sound
of my own voice.

Just remember, sweet girl –
The first step is never easy.
But one step can lead to two
And three and four
Multiplied by Momentum
So that soon you are
Running
And you can’t be stopped
And when you come face to face with darkness again
The inevitable unfamiliar path
That fated cliffs edge
You whisper to yourself
A gentle reminder

It will only get easier from here

Always,
Me

Dear Body,

For years you protected me
Shielded me from the truth
that our twelve your old brain
couldn’t comprehend

For years you stored the memories
of callused hands clamped over our mouth
Hot breath in our ears
The grip of a grown man’s hands on our
Twelve-year-old wrists

He forced you to become
a House of Shame and Secrecy
No one will believe you
You deserved this
For years,
Even I didn’t believe you

And so we spiraled
So full of words
No space for food
We withered away
Made lines on our wrists
To bleed out the diseased
Not even realizing
The secrecy was the disease

So we stopped swallowing words
Learned to speak our truth
Whispered the words
To family
Teachers
Mentors
Surrendered them to the police
Gently placing the truth
In their open hands
Wondering – will they believe me?
And they did
And the district attorney did
And the grand jury did
And at the age of thirty-two
We commanded our truth
Owned it and accepted it
And the jury said

Guilty.

The jury said guilty
The jury said guilty

And the jury said
Guilty
Twelve times

Twelve times
For twelve years

Dear Body,

You are no longer a house of shame
You are no longer a sack of bones
You are not a vessel of abuse
A tool for trauma

You are alive
You are a survivor

We’ve been through hell
Separated by our truth
But now we heal as one

Love,
Your Brain