This is a story that has been told by the Startirbune, the daily mail, channel 5, and countless other news stations. It has been told by prosecutors and defense attorneys, by eye witnesses and expert witnesses, by friends and family. It has been told by so many people, besides me.

The thing is, it’s not even their story to tell.

This is not a story that can be told in one sitting, as it is too much for any human to digest all at once. The human psyche isn’t supposed to come that close to pure evil, to death and then survive. Don’t get me wrong, the human mind is so resilient and amazing. Plenty of humans have experienced far worse. Nevertheless, it is still too much for one sitting, for both writer and reader.

This is a story that will be told piece by piece, because that is how it was experienced, and how it is remembered. Like trying to swallow tiny little shards of glass, one little violent, bloody gulp at a time. Destroying my insides with each swallow, shredding away at everything that made me human. Yet, knowing I had to swallow it all, and process in order to survive. Broken and fragmented, sharp and dark, torturous and unbearable, dull and numb, but stay with me, because the only way out is in.. the only way out is through.

See the thing about me is, I never stay on my knees for long. He may have knocked me down, and he may have derived a twisted pleasure from doing so, but what he didn’t do, what he was incapable of doing, was keeping me there.

What he took from me, I will give back to myself and a thousand other women. I will not stop until I am twice the person I was before. I will not stop until every victims voice stops trembling and begins to roar with the fierce rage of a survivor.

I will not remain silent, so you can remain comfortable.

This is the story of a sexual assault survivor, from barley surviving to thriving.

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