Saying What I Was Never Allowed to Say

I didn’t even plan on journaling tonight, but I guess I needed to get this out. I had therapy today, and honestly, it went better than I expected. Lori was really understanding. I was so worried that when I showed her the police report my brother’s statement she’d start seeing me differently. I was scared she’d look at me the way other people have in the past. But she didn’t. She didn’t pull away or act weird. She kept reminding me that what happened wasn’t my fault, no matter what he said. The relief I feel from actually being listened to and believed… it’s a lot. I’m not used to that. I know it’s her job, I know she gets paid to listen, but it doesn’t feel like she’s just doing her job. It feels like she genuinely cares and wants to help me, and that means so much to the girl who grew up with no one believing her or helping her.
I spent years being silenced and told not to trust people. And honestly, when your own family can sexually abuse you, it really does mess up the way you see people. It makes you feel like you can’t trust anyone. But what happened to me is my story. I get to tell who I want. And when I talk about it, I’m honest. I don’t lie about what he did. He doesn’t get to use the excuse of being a kid who “didn’t know better,” because the last time he hurt me, he was a grown adult.
I’ll never write out every detail of what he did to me  I can’t. I don’t ever want that down on paper. But I’m starting to talk about it. I’m finally letting someone in. And I’m so grateful to have someone in my corner. Someone who believes me, who listens, who doesn’t make excuses for him or tell me he changed, like that somehow fixes anything. It doesn’t. What he did will always stay with me. But at least now… it doesn’t feel like I’m facing all of it by myself anymore.