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This week marks two years since I was lying in a hospital bed with pelvic inflammatory disease after being sexually assaulted by a friend from overseas staying with me.

He knew my history with childhood sexual abuse and yet he came into my home and within an hour had pinned me against a wall, told me he was going to kiss me and I was going to like it. It was 11pm at night, he was 6ft 2in, and it triggered every memory of the abuse I’d suffered as a child. I automatically went into victim subservient mode and he did whatever he wanted for the next five days. He plowed me with alcohol as well, which made it near impossible for me to think or respond with any strength or comprehension of what was really going on.

He left on a Monday, I was hospitalised on the Tuesday for five days. A soul destroying five days. Five days where I felt the loneliest, the most scared, the most ashamed I have ever felt in my adult life.

I don’t tell this story for sympathy, I tell this story because it’s time for me to acknowledge truthfully what happened, forgive myself for the name calling I directed at myself during the weeks and months that followed, and the hurt and pain and isolation I have allowed to continue since.

I am not a victim, I am not a survivor. I had a crappy life experience that has impacted me for too long.

Today I’m reclaiming that intimate part of me.

Today, I am honouring my body and making her a promise that it is time to truly heal that relationship with my body. I am committing to working with a healer that focuses on sexual trauma, wounding and relationships so that I can invite a man to share my life.

I know this healing work won’t be easy. I know there will be a lot walls to come down, it will hurt, there will he tears, but I have hope, that one day in the not to distant future, that I can trust a man again, and share a beautiful life together, filled with intimacy.

It’s time to do the ultimate act of self care

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