I told. I told truths about my life that made me feel as if I was betraying some understood universal rule that “thou shall not make public the crimes and violations that have been thrust upon you”. Ever.
Did you ever see the movie Alien? Remember the gruesome scene when the alien burst out of someone’s chest, all ugly, scary and gross? That is what it felt like might happen if I told. Not just about my #metoo experiences, but all the traumatic experiences I had, from early days until the ripe old age of 65.
But guess what? The alien morphed into a beauty of a creature once it had time outside of the dark dungeons inside of me. Out in the open, the shame, guilt, and ugliness responded to my voice, my memories and the loving embrace of those with whom I shared. It was a process for sure. I felt crushed and devastated for several days. I broke the rules.
The secrets and their hold over my life all these years have now become a key to my freedom. I survived.
I am rewriting the script to my story.
I told. I will tell again.
Fuck them all.
I love me, not them.
— MaryLynn Hinde
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