I found writing to be my therapy. I went to counseling, of course. I attended a sexual assault survivors group for years. My kids remember it as “Going to the yellow house on Fridays to play.” They are 30, 27, 25 and 20 now. I taught my 3 sons and daughter that they were powerful, and their privacy was to be respected. I told them they could tell me anything, and I would never ever think less of them, would love them and help them always. I gave birth to 3 girls and one boy. My oldest and youngest are trans. They felt safe coming to me about it. It wasn’t perfect — no. I made mistakes, as do all parents. But they are shining examples of what healing can do, how I went from a wounded animal to a survivor, to someone who now thrives. I still have lapses, yes. I also have an eating disorder and it rears its ugly head when I’m under great stress. I wrote my story about being molested by a neighbor when I was 11 and how I confronted him two years ago. It was published this September in The Scarlet Leaf Review, AND it was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. I have a blog, Breaking the Legacy of Silence, and a column with Five 2 One Magazine online with the same title. I tell truths people usually don’t discuss at party or at the dinner table. It’s helping me, but it’s helping others! That’s where the last part comes in. I give and I get, and I am a survivor, thriving, telling the world I’m awesome despite it all, and touching the lives of others who need to know they are not alone. Thank you for being you!