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I feel like I’m about to relive it all. Every second. The tightness in my chest increases.
“Honey, are you okay?” Sarah asks.
I shake my head. I want to run away. I want to hide under my covers and lie in the fetal position and bawl my eyes out.
And that’s why I have to go in. Because I need that to stop being my reaction.
“No,” I breathe out. “And that’s why I’m here.”
Sarah and Mackenzie nod at me and we walk inside.
We end up in a large circle of women. Two women who both look to be in their early forties sit down together and look around. After a moment, one stands up.
“Hello everyone, and welcome. I see quite a few new faces tonight. I’m glad you’re here with us. My name is Renée, and I founded this group with Michelle,” she gestures to the woman next to her, who waves at everyone, “nearly ten years ago. We met through a friend after we’d both been sexually assaulted. We lamented it was hard to find a safe space to talk about what we’d been through, so we created one. We were shocked when we had twenty women come to our first meeting. We were more shocked that women kept coming, different faces each week. While it’s disheartening to know so many women have suffered through this, it’s comforting to know they’re no longer alone. Now, neither are you.”
Sarah tightly squeezes my hand.
Renée and Michelle briefly share their stories and then open the floor to others.
A few women who have been coming to the support group for months or years speak about the progress they’ve made and the importance of support.
A couple of new people also share their stories. But I can’t. I can’t bring myself to utter the words. I hate talking about it. I want to throw up every single time I do. Which is why I don’t.
After the meeting is over, there’s some drinks and cookies on a nearby table. People mill around and seem to be chatting. I notice Renée and Michelle talking with some of the people who introduced themselves tonight.
Sarah brings me a cookie. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit. But less alone, I guess.”
“That’s how I felt during our first meeting,” a voice behind me says.
I slowly turn around and see Michelle. I swallow hard.
“I’m Michelle.” She extends her hand to me.
“I’m Rae,” I say, shaking her hand. “And this is my sister, Sarah, and my friend, Mackenzie. They, um, came with me.”
She nods. “I’m glad you came here tonight. I noticed you didn’t say anything—and that’s fine, it’s certainly not a requirement—but your eyes are screaming. If you’d like to talk… I’m here to listen.”
Fuck.
I cannot keep my tears inside anymore.
“Baby, it’s okay,” Sarah says. She kisses my temple and rubs her hand down my back.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, and I certainly don’t mean to push.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay. Um…” I trail off, but then I take a breath and start again. I give her a quick overview of what happened.
She nods reassuringly. “So, besides your friends, no one else knows?”
“No. I know I should—” I stop myself and say the truth instead. “Iwantto tell my parents, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough. I know it’s going to crush them, and I’m not sure I can take that.”
“Can I give you some advice?” she asks.
I nod. “Please. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.” I wipe away a few tears.
She gives me a little smile. “You can’t take responsibility for how they react to this. Are your parents supportive people?”
