Story 32

Dear Mr Lawyer How do you sleep at night? Do you sleep comfortably, in expensive sheets? Or restless and taunted like me? I know that job must pay well, but really. How do you sleep at night? Do you lie awake, tortured by the pain you have inflicted on hurt, vulnerable people? Or do you…

Story 31

It has taken me 27 years to remember. I buried it so deep to survive. i have been told that the brain is amazing in its ability to protect. I believe that. All of the signs were there over the years. Bladder infections, unexplained bladder pain, interstitial cystitis. Anxiety and Depression. Promiscuity. Early drug and…

Story 30

Twenty-six years.  That is how long I buried the memories of my abuse.  When my story dared rear its ugly head, I dug a deeper hole.  Intense anger, dig it deeper.  Trust no one, dig it deeper.  Heavy drinking, keep digging.  Promiscuity, deeper still.  My story and my abuser silently controlled me.  That ends now….

Story 29

As I sit down to write this, what is weighing on my heart is that there are twenty-eight stories on this page.  That’s twenty-eight too many and yet I know there are countless more stories that would be here if only everyone knew this space existed and if those countless story keepers could all find their…

Story 28

I was in 6th grade when it started. I wore butterfly clips and Winnie the Pooh pajamas. My priorities were getting the latest giga-pet and having the perfect color of bands on my braces. I had friends who talked about cool gel pens and tie-dye shirts, and I was being targeted. I didn’t know I…

Story 27

I never thought I would tell my story to anyone.  Growing up in my family we didn’t really talk about anything- absolute WASPS, very buttoned up.  You didn’t talk about religion, politics.. and certainly nothing personal.  It just wasn’t “nice”, and if nothing else, we were a “nice” family. In our “nice” family we went…

Story 26

I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t happening.  I suppose that doesn’t mean it always did.  Maybe I was safe when I was a baby. I don’t know. It was mostly at bathtime.  I can’t understand why my mom never thought it was weird that my dad insisted on giving me my bath every…

Story 25

I was 13. I didn’t even know to call it sexual abuse until I talked to my therapist about it a few years back.  He was a kid from the neighborhood- one of my best friend’s brothers.  He was 11 or so.  I always thought it needed to be done by an adult for it…

Story 24

April. Following the appointments and the blood tests and the waiting and the googling – oh, the googling – leading me to suspect what the phone call will tell me: “Your labs and symptoms point to Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. It doesn’t mean that you won’t be able to conceive, but you’ll need help. To confirm…

Story 23

Near the end of my pregnancy with my second son, my parents came to visit. On this particular visit, before even greeting me, I opened the door and in they came, carrying the contents of my childhood in about ten cumbersome cardboard boxes. They were preparing to move seven states away from where I grew…

Story 22

When I was thirteen years old my mom remarried. My dad wasn’t in my life so I was sooo excited to be part of a “real” family for the first time. At first it was great. He had money and so we weren’t struggling all the time to pay the bills and we even had…

Story 21

I tried so hard to avoid my uncle when I had to stay at his house. I learned to for the most part but he still got to me. He would usually sneak up on me and he would sexually abuse me. He started abusing me when I was in kindergarten. I was too little…