I had chosen to read a different chapter than what my collegues had been privey to during our classes. It was a softer piece, yet the validity of the content remained. As I glanced up I noticed the tears in my husband's eyes as I read. I was greatful to have such a caring man in my life.
After the readings, time was allowed to mingle with the presenters. As I made my way through the room one of the audeince members had approached me and disclosed their own personal adversity. They had kept this secret their entire life, and I was the only person they felt comfortable enough to tell. My ears served as tool for this person to relieve some of the burden they have been carrying for decades. It proufoundly affected me knowing that by telling my story, I had reached out to another human allowing them to start their healing.
My determination has been renewed to continue my journey in publishing my book. Abuse does not adhere to any specific ethnic or social economical backgrounds. Instead it spills between them all, touching on each
equivalently. The vast majority of its victims remains quiet, and I hope that my story will give just one more person the courage to come forward, accept that they did nothing wrong, and take back their lives.