Courage to Speak Up

My body felt broken into pieces by a male.
I played blame and shame on a violin
even when I shared my story in my intimate
circle. When the violation happened, I was
stunned, so I stayed silent. I thought to
myself many things. Questioned if the
police would believe me, a black female
college student at the age of 20, who
was sexually abused and mishandled.
Assumed they would say that I provoked
him and should not have let him come into my
college dorm room. I wondered what I could
have done differently to prevent this
from happening. I became more
protective of my female friends and
never hesitated to tell them what
I had been through. Time can change
and challenge any of us. Years later,
after being taken advantage of, someone
found the courage to speak up. The person
was a male I dated during my late twenties.
He passed away, but his words
compelled me to seek help then, and
I did. I signed up for a six-month sexual
trauma program. It helped me face
the uncomfortable incident, my fears,
and my insecurities. The program
taught me how to move forward.
I learned what setting boundaries
really means. No is still a word to hug
hope and find healing within wombs.
No to negative thoughts towards women
and our bodies. No to feeling like we
are not valuable gifts. No to the stuck
life. I am here in this moment for a
purpose. Words are breath.
Beauty is awakened out of the ashes.

This article was posted on Sunday, November 9th, 2025 at 8:00am and is filed under Poetry.