I’m 56 years old, and only recently began to speak what I’ve held inside for most of my life. The abuse I went through wasn’t just physical — it was emotional, manipulative, and so deeply confusing that for decades, I blamed myself. I told myself I was exaggerating, or making it up, or that I should just “be over it by now.” I wasn’t. I’m not. But I’m healing. And if you’re here, reading this… I want you to know: You’re not crazy. You’re not broken. You’re not alone. I know what it’s like to be terrified of your own memories. To carry silence because you think no one will believe you — or worse, that they’ll say it’s your fault. I’m so sorry if you’ve been met with disbelief or gaslighting. I have too. And I know how that can bury a person. But I’m here, still standing, and slowly rebuilding a life that feels like mine. I still have days where the fear takes over, or the grief knocks me flat. But I also have days now where I feel free, where I laugh deeply, where I take back something that was stolen. If you’re just beginning to speak your truth, or even just letting yourself feel it, please know: that’s enough. You’re doing something brave. You’re not alone. I’m walking this road too. And I believe you. With love, — A woman healing out loud