Have you ever held onto a bit of knowledge for so long, that the sharp points, like shards of glass that have been cast in the ocean where the salty water, over many years, has smoothed the edges and the dangerous places where someone could get hurt, have worn away so that there percussions of the information can no longer cut?

I’ve kept my shameful secret for over twenty years.

When the incident first happened, I was shocked that anything so absurd could happen to someone like me. It was so far removed from the realm of my day to day home life, that the very fact that I had endured this hardship, altered my whole existence. The little bubble, my safe cocoon of security, had burst. I was left holding the sticky pieces of the bag, wanting only to hide it or throw it away as fast as possible.

Denial is as hefty ally. Although it appears to be on your side, enabling you to bury the incessant pangs of guilt banging in your head, it can swiftly change alliances and abandon you, pulling the rug out from under you, right when you least expect it.

I couldn’t admit that anything was wrong when people asked me how I was. I couldn’t explain to anyone that what happened to me, had shattered my whole sense of self. I looked the same from the outside, but the ‘me’ that was inside was not the same. I knew I’d never be the same again.

Keeping a secret is both empowering and exhausting.

It’s funny how when you accept a situation that you’ve been fighting against, it seems less than the monumental-ground-shaking reality you thought it was.

When I came to terms with what had happened, and my distinct role in the whole matter,  a lot of the daily tension that had prohibited me from living a happier life, evaporated. I want to say that I wasable to put it all behind me, but instead I thrusted the whole incident forward- on paper.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. From the time that I was able to put words down on paper, I’ve had a run of them that seem to have no end. Words to me are the stepping stones that take you to another place, broaden your horizons, and offer you a chance to view the existence of other possibilities.

I have written my story so that I can rid myself of this nagging feeling that I have not done justice to what, why and how this all happened to me. I think that beyond the egotistical need to absolve myself, I truly wish to enlighten others. If what’s in this book of mine can help others to see a brighter future, then I have done a good deed. But first, I have to tell you my secret.