Acceptance is the phase that takes the most effort. And by that I mean, you've really got to work at it. It doesn't come naturally. For me, the acceptance came when I finally had to name my experience. That was the single step that started the journey. Saying it that single time emboldened me to take action over what I could do in the aftermath.
Today I am a week away from the anniversary of my assault. I’ve spent the majority of this month quietly reflecting on what happened to me and what has transpired in the twelve months since. I’ve found my brain in a place that I would describe as “trama adjacent”—I am not reeling in the out-of-control trauma brain I once was, but that place seems much more tangible to me now than it has in months. I know that seems difficult to understand if you haven’t experienced this, so let’s take it back to the beginning.