Sexual abuse is a terrifying reality for far too many women. This kind of trauma leads to all kinds of self-destructive patterns of thought and behavior. Many suffer in silence, their voice silenced, their cries unheard as they push the terrible darkness deeper and deeper, locking it safely out of sight. But it doesn’t stay there. It refuses to be buried, and things happen that trigger the trauma. It leaks out as anger or anxiety, pressure or promiscuity, control or out of control, and dozens of other ways we try to cope with the wounds we didn’t deserve.

I’m Jackie McCown. For decades, I kept quiet about the trauma I’d experienced. My voice didn’t exist because I didn’t know what to say or to whom. I was hiding, as the saying goes, in plain sight. I’ve been where you are, at least bits and parts. The darkness. The hiding. The self-protection. I want to say to you all the things I wish someone had said to me.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the hurt that is still with you. I’m sorry you were not protected. I want to look into your eyes and hold you there. Let the truth be seen when so many others looked past you and the hurt you have hidden. I want to hug you. Tight. A proper hug. I want to hold you until the tears come. And go. I want to be with you until you are ready to be alone again. Your pain isn’t my pain, but we can walk through this pain together.

Hopefully, by telling you my story, I can give you a safe place to tell yours. And on the other side, we can find grace and peace and mercy and comfort. And maybe-just maybe-forgiveness. Freedom.