I want to tell you about the moment I finally found my voice. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done, and also one of the most important.

I was sexually abused by two men I trusted. People who were supposed to be safe. For a long time I carried that alone. Then things got even harder. I lost my mom. I had to move. And then someone else I trusted hurt me in the same way. That was the moment something shifted inside me. I was done carrying it by myself. I was at the lowest point of my life. I was ready to give up entirely.

But I didn’t give up. Instead, I told someone.

I told my social worker. She listened. Really listened. And I want you to know what that felt like, because I think it matters. I was freaking proud of myself. That is the only way I know how to say it. After everything that had been done to me, after everything I had lost, I sat down and I said what happened. And someone heard me.

Looking back on that moment now, I still feel proud. Not just proud that I said it out loud, but proud of who I was in that moment. I had been through so much. I had every reason to stay silent. And I spoke anyway.

If you are reading this and you haven’t found your words yet, I want to say something to you directly. I know it feels scary. I know it can feel impossible. But telling someone what happened to you, even just one person who will really listen, it changes something. You will feel so much better. Not all at once, maybe. But something will lift.

You deserve to be heard. I needed someone to tell me that once. So I am telling you now.