Have you ever read one sentence in a story and had it grip you, seem so important that you went back to reread it, maybe more than once? In The Storyteller , Cole calls Daphne “hero” when she does something hard.

“I can do this,” Daphne said, taking a deep breath. Cole smiled, the dimple creasing his cheek, pride shining in his eyes. “Talking to the choir, hero, I know you can do this.”

There’s lots of reasons this struck me as beautiful but one of them is how loud it shouts of his belief in her. Having someone who believes in you can be life-sustaining. And it made me think about the BE THE HOPE workshop and how successful it was. Over two dozen people attended, and I believed the conversations that happened mattered. But that workshop, about human trafficking, isn’t really where my greatest passion lies. My heartbeat is for connecting with and helping survivors of rape.

Every 68 seconds, someone in America is sexually assaulted. Every 9 minutes that person is a child. I’ve been telling my story of rape and abuse since 2004 in lots of different ways, everything from speaking to groups to writing book and book about it. Speaking up about it has been hard: it’s pushed me out of my comfort zone, it’s forced me to confront memories I wasn’t sure I wanted to face. And it’s connected me to other survivors. It’s taught me, more than anything else, that I was not alone. The idea that I wasn’t alone has been influential in my own healing, and I believe there is power in connection, in believing that someone understands. For me, the greatest hope resides in the idea of turning something horrible into something positive. It’s the idea of sparking just the notion in one person that hope is real and challenging the lies shouted by the abuse that drives me forward. I cannot always control my surroundings or circumstances, but I can choose how I respond to those circumstances. I want to teach my daughters to choose responses that are positive, faith-based and hopeful.

Rape does not define who I am. It is not all that I am. But sexual abuse does create a line in the sand between the person and life before and after. And, in that, there is so much. There’s grieving for the person you were and might have been without the violation. There’s fear of the unknown, fear for your own safety. There’s the loss of trust that needs to be regained. There’s pride for the strength in the person that ultimately rises up from the ashes. There are new doors that open that you wouldn’t otherwise have walked through. There’s an understanding and a compassion for both yourself and others who have been hurt that wasn’t there before. Rape doesn’t define all that I am. There is more to me than trauma. There’s resilience and stubbornness, there’s passion, leadership and there’s joy. While it changed my life, abuse did not ruin it. Reassuring others that the same is true for them is important to me. Reaching out to others is my response to the greatest pain of my life.

Overcoming sexual abuse is a journey unique to each survivor. Responding to the trauma is unique to each person. Some need the closure that the legal system offers. Some don’t. Some benefit from counseling. Others never seek it out. Some seethe with anger. Others don’t get angry. Some confront flashbacks around every corner. Others don’t have flashbacks. Some remember every minute detail while others struggle to put the pieces together. Whatever the response, though, there is a thread that binds survivors: they were violated. When we share that, so much happens: we poke holes through the lie that says it was because we did something to cause it, we feel heard and understood, and unity breeds strength and resilience.

Inside of you is a hero. A hero capable of facing the fear, of taking the hand of someone else, of standing up for the person you were before. You didn’t have a voice during the abuse… but you do now. Shame is real. Pain is real. Fear is real. And those compete against hope and courage for space in my thoughts. But there’s one important truth no one can take away from you:

You survived.

No one gets to take that away from you. What you did, what you did not do, how you responded, the things you’ve turned to just to get through the day… none of those things take away the facts: (a) You were violated. Your trust was broken. You did not create or cause that and (b) You survived and, because you survived, there is hope. There’s a new workshop, and

It’s your time.

Your story matters just as much as anyone else’s. Your story is powerful. Your story is what someone else needs to hear—and, maybe, their story is what you need to hear. Sharing my story time after time has ultimately, after awhile, helped me heal. It’s not taken the pain away, the scar is still there and, whenever you see a scar, you’re reminded of the pain that caused it. But sharing your story can show you that everything you fear, every lie whispered, isn’t always the reality. You survived. You matter.

Overcoming trauma starts with a single step. I’m leading a new workshop, this one called HERO, and I’m hoping the workshop can connect in creative and meaningful ways with other survivors. The goals of the workshop will be to give space to survivors to share, to create an artistic piece that is personalized and meaningful to them, and to ignite hope. Within the workshop, I’d like to feature two survivors who want to share their stories. You don’t have to do this live – you don’t have to live even within the United States. There are lots of ways we can share your story without you having to be physically present. The goal is for each of the two survivors to have up to 20 minutes (some will take only ten, others might take 30. That is okay) to share whatever they’d like to share about their experience and journey. There is no “right” experience–if it’s an incident of sexual or physical assault, then it is appropriate within this safe space. And, in reaching out, you might inspire someone else to do the same.

Ubiquitous: sexual assault is ubiquitous. It affects every race, gender, socioeconomic background, age, country and religion. Did you know that the legal age of consent in Delaware until 1871 was 7? In NY, it was 10. FGM (female genital mutilation) was federally outlawed in the United States in 1996 but there are still 11 US states with NO anti-FGM laws on the books. It is still legal in some countries today. Sexual assault happens every sixty eight seconds in the United States. And yet there is still so much shame and trauma beneath sharing our experiences. Until we find the hero in us to share and to heal. If you’d like to share your story, please contact me. I am happy to send anyone who shares h/her story of sexual abuse for the purpose of this workshop a free copy of any one of my books.

“I can do this,” Daphne said, taking a deep breath. Cole smiled, the dimple creasing his cheek, pride shining in his eyes. “Talking to the choir, hero, I know you can do this.”

Important Notes about the Workshop: 

• It is about 3 hours in length. 
• Some content may be triggering for some survivors; a warning will be provided before the sensitive material to give you a chance to mute the speaker or disengage if you need to. 
• The workshop is very interactive: you will have the chance to work in groups on word studies, you’ll have a chance to complete a personal piece and to share if you so choose. Everything is optional.