It’s not my shame. It’s theirs.

I didn’t post last night because I was helping to host a screening of a documentary about trafficking. It’s something that is close to my heart, and has been for many years. Did you know that there are more slaves now than there ever was when slavery was legal? The slave trade is second in profit only to the drug trade. And that gap is closing fast. What is this world coming to, when someone decides that buying a woman or girl is a better business deal than selling drugs?chains-19176_640

I spoke at this event, sharing my story. The voices in my head tried to tell me
that my story is not worth sharing. That it was nothing in comparison to what these women and children go through. That it’s not even relevant. To those voices I say, then why do you care?”

If I decide to keep quiet about my story, then the men who abused me win. The more I keep it in the dark, the more power it has over me – to control me. To make me feel shame. It’s not my shame. It’s theirs.

I may never know whose lives I will touch by me sharing, but I know I feel lighter afterwards. When it is brought out in the open, its power lessens. I feel freer. If you have a story, I encourage you to tell it. It is extremely cathartic, and it will help. Maybe even help someone else.