...Call it what you will, it exists and it is a very real part of many women's lives.
...I’m a tough person in many ways; I’ve lost both parents, always struggled for what I wanted, made hard choices, lived alone, moved to new cities without a job or friends and succeeded there. Taken risks. Worked hard. Don’t really think of myself as a complainer.Would anyone but an assault victim make this image?
But it’s been five years, and I still grieve. Not every day, not all the time. Not because I desired perfection or painlessness or prettiness during my son’s birth. But because when I went in to the hospital, I was full of joy and confidence. When I came out, I was broken and hurt, mentally and physically. I was scared of doctors and flinched when touched by them. I did not want to touch my own body. I sometimes did not want to be alive.
What does that make me?