Justice At Last

The twelve year old in me finally got a bit of what she deserved five years ago.

She got peace.

She got confidence.

She got security.

She got love. 

She got trust.

Because when she was with one of the people closest to her on a Thursday night, she was violated. She was violated in a way that you could never understand  unless you were that unlucky 1 in 4.

1/4 girls in the state of Utah are sexually abused before they reach the age of 18.

One out of four.

Do you hear that?

ONE OUT OF EVERY FOUR.

Inside, you will scream so loud that your organs shatter, especially your heart. You will feel as if you lost your voice forever, never being able to be heard unless you are harsh. All the chances you get at happiness will be pushed away because you can't see that you deserve it.

That was my life for the past five years.

Pain.

Sadness.

Terror.

Anger.

Loneliness.

The twelve year old in me finally got what she deserved. She told her unfortunate story . . . And she was believed.

She was able to see that all that she went through was for a higher purpose. A better cause. A reason to help others.

I was molested as a twelve year old and I got the justice I deserved for five long years. This is only a part of my story. It does not define who I am or who I am becoming.

NOTE TO READERS: IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW HAS BEEN SEXUALLY ABUSED, PLEASE SEEK HELP, AND KNOW THAT I PRAY FOR YOU EVERY SINGLE DAY. YOU ARE STRONG.