I learned that I couldn’t trust anyone from a small age, even in the house.
I used to have panic attacks at the idea of leaving the house, but when the house became unbearable, what was outside wasn’t as scary.
How are you supposed to trust a stranger to be with him alone in the car while he drives you somewhere?
It took me a lot of courage, and I managed to remain cautious.
First time a cab driver grabbed my leg, my arm, my breast, my face…
It wasn’t the first time I got harassed, but I couldn’t get used to it.
It took me weeks to recover, from the knife held near my neck, the gun pointed at my head…
I became stronger.
Until I get touched by the person I love, and I break down in tears, because there I was vulnerable and being loved but his touch only reminded me of the pain and disgust.
It is an everyday process to not let it destroy the good things in life, to not let it turn you bitter, detached, to keep on trusting and being kind.