I didn't ask for it. I didn't deserve it. But I survived it. I didn't dodge a bullet. I was raped. And when it was over, I thought, "This will never happen again." ... It happened again. I didn't dodge a bullet. The second time, it was a man who said he loved me And even though the fighter in me kicked and screamed The rest of me got lost. I floated in a huge, numbing ocean. I moved far away, To a place where no one knew me No one could pronounce my name No one could touch the real me I hid in plain sight For years, it felt like my body wasn't mine. I mumbly walked through life Bumping into things. I didn't dodge a bullet. I eventually came back to this country that spoke my mother tongue And being back with everything that should have felt familiar I instead felt more lost than ever I was a zombie Or maybe a puppet with her strings cut Shuffling through the motions of living a 'life' I gave myself to an abusive man who wanted to be a puppet master And even though I knew it was a mistake I couldn't bring myself to care I couldn't see that I deserved anything better I didn't dodge a bullet. But there was still a tiny part of me That was fighting, yelling, screaming She finally got my attention I nurtured that part of me. I listened. I. WOKE. UP. I didn't dodge a bullet, but I performed surgery on myself. Painful, years-long surgery. I dug out the bullet. I dug out another. I dug them ALL out. And the scars those bullets left me with Are badges of honor. They are proof that I survived. I am a survivor. In the last few years, I have also survived a brain tumor, And the three surgeries it took to save my life— first a transphenoidal resection, then a craniotomy, then the placement of a ventriculo-peritoneal something something shunt... And through it all, I knew I could make it through. This was nothing. Nothing compared to digging out those bullets. I learned what it took to survive. And I didn't just survive; I found a way to thrive. I now have a spouse who is a true partner, And the fighter inside me is learning to be at peace. I still sometimes find myself sinking With the weight of my past, But I know I can keep my head above water. I know I can swim. I didn't dodge a bullet. I can't magically repel them, And I can't keep from getting shot. But I know, now, that I can survive. I don't need to be bulletproof; I can survive bullets. I transformed my trauma from a place of powerlessness To one of empowerment. And did I say my scars were badges of honor? They're more than that. They're badges of armor.

Hey! Hey, you. Don't cry. I'm okay. Yes, of course I forgive you. I'll be alright. Don't worry about me. It's honestly fine. I know your intent wasn't to hurt me. It's time for both of us To move on from this.

I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I deeply regret ever causing you any harm. I think about you often, and with love. If there's anything I can do to make it right, I'm listening. But please know — this apology comes With no strings... You don't have to respond, You don't owe me anything — Not your forgiveness, or your time, Or your energy. I love you, and I honor Whatever path your healing takes.

We are so proud of you. Look, I know we've had our differences Over the years, and I don't know the details Of all the things you've gone through... But... I can see how strong you are. And I'm sorry I don't always show it, But... I do see it. You're amazing! And I really mean What I said. We're just so proud of you.

I know you know this, but sometimes You need a reminder. You. Are. Enough. Just you, as you are, all by yourself. You don't have to be anything different To be okay. Take a break from struggling to live up to Some other version of yourself... Some other color of yourself... Some other sound.... You are enough.

You can stop. You don't have to prove yourself to anybody. You can't make yourself More worthy of love and acceptance. Nothing you do — And nothing you fail to do — Will make you worthy. You're already worthy. You can stop. You can rest. You can heal.