Speaking My Truth: Finding Freedom After Silence and Shame

In denial, resistance to the truth.

A constant battle between the hard, raw truth and comfortable lies.

Ignoring my own gut instinct. How unnatural.

The little girl inside fights against her own‚ unknowing.

Suppressing the emotions I had—not wanting to witness the ones around me upset, for something I was involved in but had no control over. Protecting others to my own detriment.

The truth hurts, but it will also set you free.

Maybe you are making all this up?

But why would I? I wonder as the physical feelings in my body remember the sensations as if it was happening in real time, in the present moment.

You are strong. The professionals tell me.

A part of me wants them to label me as crazy, so the reality of my trauma isn’t true.

Are you crazy, or is what happened TO you, crazy? They ask.

Stand up for what is right, speak up, release the shame that isn’t yours to carry. I tell the little child within.

She tries to spit out the words.

The police officer clicks his pen, waiting patiently for me to recall all the details. My heart beats fast. My eyelids flutter. My mouth dry. I fiddle a heart-shaped rock between my fingers to try and keep me grounded.

Don’t tell anyone. Abusers’ words are programmed in the back of my mind, engrained into my programming, my development.

I can’t. I need the love, acceptance, and approval in order to survive. The little girl inside me thinks.

No‚ you’ve got to love, accept, and approve of yourself. You can’t depend on anyone to do that. Now, pick yourself off the floor with every bit of strength you have. Stand tall. Stand your ground. Speak up. The nurturer inside me says.

My voice gets shaky.

I spit out the truth like vomit.

I feel a relief. A freedom like I’ve never felt before.

I feel like I can scream it to the world—I am a survivor! I can, and I will THRIVE!

I can let everyone know my truth, MY story in hopes, maybe give others the courage to tell no matter how hard it is.