After the Violation.

I thought I knew what strength looked like. I thought it was having boundaries, standing my ground, working until I earned respect, never letting anyone make me feel small. I built my entire life around that.

And then someone crossed a line they had no right to cross.

Now I feel like I’ve lost everything I spent years becoming. I question my clothes, my choices, my decisions, my instinct to trust. I hate that a part of me keeps asking whether I somehow put myself there. But I know I didn’t. I know what happened to me wasn’t my fault.

I’m scared now. Of people. Of being touched. Of going outside. Of what this will do to the people I love. I’m scared that the walls I’m building to protect myself will eventually keep everyone else out too.

I miss home. I miss feeling safe. I miss the version of me who didn’t have to think twice before existing in the world.

But maybe strength was never about being untouched by life.

Maybe strength is admitting that I’m broken right now, asking for help, and still choosing to stay.

I don’t know how to heal yet.

But I’m still here.