I realized that I am a survivor of sexual assault too, when I told my therapist how I was struggling to support my daughter through this nightmare. How explaining what happened to friends and relatives was so draining, because it made them hurt as much as me. But how not telling them only let things fester, and made me feel apart from the rest of the world. How helpless and unsure I felt all the time, and then the anger and hate that simmered, ready to flare up at any injustice – to take an opportunity to fight back. The sleepless nights and worry about what comes next. The panic of not even knowing what to expect to come next, and then falling into more helplessness.
I didn’t know that I could even grieve for me too.