Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse.

I remember taking the dictionary to Mom’s bedroom. I sat in the most uncomfortable position, not knowing that what I was about to read needed me to be as comfortable as possible. What I read made me have flashbacks.

I remember how I never viewed things the same way after reading that word because I didn’t know it had happened to me. This was after I heard a policeman say it when they were still eager to find out who had raped me. I remember how I’d hear someone cry and think: Should I have cried like that? Was that what I was supposed to do when he opened my legs and opened what I had planned to keep sealed until I was 21?

I remember how I flinched every time I heard the word ‘rape’. And how that person who pretended to care would look at me when he knew I heard it. I remember how I wanted us to talk about it at home. I hate how I had to get home from school and pretended to be A-OK.

When I finally told my whole family the truth,they were devastated by the news but what broke my heart was seeing my mother cry. My own father raped me at the age of 12. For me that was the most uncomfortable truth ever.