aspen-matis

I didn__ know if I was brave or reckless.

The way to self-love and admiration is to behave like someone whom you love and admire.

I'd crossed a border__peaking openly, exposing the weak girl I'd been, I was no longer her.

I no longer needed to peel myself of my skin, or to hide. To Dash the colorless ephemeral things that existed just beneath my surface were as vivid as the beauty marks he traced on my cheek.

I realized that the most empowering important thing was actually simply taking care of myself.

I was promising myself strength.I had to write it, say it, make the effort and fake it before I actually believed I could do it.

On this walk I'd had so much time and space to actually figure out who I was without my mother's influence. I understood now: the things that my mother had found made her happy were not the same as the things that made me happy. And I understood: that was okay.

I__ believed I needed to be steady in myself before I could function with others__ut surviving alone no longer felt like a good way either.

The bravest thing I ever did was leave there. The next bravest thing I did was come back, to make myself heard.

There was so little I wanted to carry. Packing my backpack took me all of four minutes

I was passive by nature. I had always been. Arguing felt unnatural and uncomfortable. I was always agreeing even when I didn__ really, instinctively looking for ways to forfeit power, to become more dependent, to be taken care of. I realized how intensely Icecap reminded me of Jacob. They were similar, both diligent and harsh in their judgments__nd my big brother__ sureness had always comforted me.But as I ran on sore legs to keep up with Icecap, my tendency toward silence stressed me.

Beneath hot sun, desert roses bloomed. Under cold moon, I still refused to.

Water was liquid silver, water was gold. It was clarity__ sacred thing. Drinking was no longer something to take for granted. I__ never needed to consider water before.

In the power of my newfound strength, I saw clearly__ven though I__ been empowered to have my old college finally address my __orrific trauma,_ make me finally feel heard, this event would never have happened had I not first given myself my own voice, the permission to call my rape rape and not shame. In telling, I forced the school that silenced me, that minimized my trauma, that blamed me for the rape, to finally respect my voice and give me the platform they should have given me in the first place. I did not need the school to call it by its name; I did it myself, and they listened. I was the powerful party that brought the closure and empowerment I__ hoped, in first finding their invitation, that Colorado College would bring.

I had once again proven that again alone, I was again enough.

I had no evidence. No physical signs of my rape existed anymore. My body had already purged them. That was the irreversible reality.

If I could mark clearly, convincingly and consistently what was good for me and also what was bad__f I could say yes and also no, as if it were the law__t would become my law.

Absolutely devout in her complete care of my body, she had only taught me to be weak and voiceless. But I had unlearned that lesson. Our enmeshment no longer felt to me like proof of love. I was no longer willing to permit this silencing. Helplessness didn't have to be my identity, I wasn't condemned to it. I was willing__ble__o change. Our enmeshment had been enabled by my belief that I needed her to help me, to take care of things for me__nd to save me__ut, back in the home where I'd learned this helplessness, I found I no longer felt that I was trapped in it.