No one of us can tell you how to feel about your story. We all carry our past in different suitcases. In a way we can bear it. Sometimes speaking it out loud makes it lose it’s power over you. Other moments you just fucking decide the bastard took enough — he gets not one more precious moment of your life. Ever. My. Life. My. Power. Other times it plays over in your mind like a bad rerun of a B movie you’ve seen too many times.

I only give this advice from my experience. Seven Years in the company of the most excellent male therapist taught me how to trust again. Ten years of meditation gave me the ability to breathe. Twenty years of yoga let me unite back with my body.

You will find YOUR way. Everyone walks their own path out of the swamp.

♥️