Child Abuse
These stories explore the silent wounds left by childhood abuse — wounds that shape how we see ourselves, others, and the world. They are not just memories; they are echoes that reach into adulthood, often without words. But in naming them, in writing them, we begin to reclaim the power they once stole.
As I was awaiting trial, I could barely process the horrifying thought of what could happen if the trial did not go my way. In a brief encounter with my lawyer that I mentioned previously, after I got out of jail, the only thing he discussed was his sense that no jury would be able to imagine that I was capable of harming anyone.
I was overwhelmed and traumatized by…
Despair weighed upon me as I wandered the dark Durham night. The shelter was full, so I tried to sleep on the grounds of Duke West Campus. No signs warned against trespassing. I didn’t feel comfortable so I left and taking a shortcut I scaled a 4-foot rock wall, unaware of doing anything wrong.
Then, as if summoned by fate, a police car appeared.
A block down the road, its lights…
In the last chapter, I told you about the joy I found in finding someone to love and someone who loved me. I told you about the experiences I had, and I hope it was clear just how meaningful this was in my life's trajectory. It was so important to present the profound and…
It had seemed that cystic fibrosis was about to destroy my entire life, as well as threaten the life of the woman I loved. I feel selfish to say that it was destroying my life. I…
In the early months of my captivity, I fiercely rejected any suggestion of being taken to a psychiatric hospital for evaluation. The mere thought of using mental illness as a defense for my actions made me sick. I wasn’t going to allow it to be said that there was validity to what Ana claimed but there was an explanation.
Despite Ana's accusations, I stood firm in declaring my complete…