I’ve always wanted to tell my story. Abused children have to be good secret keepers. I had to be very careful to not tell anyone the truth. As I got older I thought I could write my story. What happened to me. My feelings. My hurts. My desires. My view.
But I was afraid my mom would read it. And be angry at me. So much of my pain stemmed from her but saying so was a betrayal that would invite more pain.