Strength In Our Broken Pieces

| by Katie Morris |

This past Friday night, I laid in a hotel bed in downtown Detroit, tears streaming down my face. Unstoppable. Despite being on a mini-getaway, and despite the delicious Italian food I’d just eaten, and despite the good good, gentle man sleeping next to me, I was broken. Heart-broken. Spirit-broken. Soul-tired.

…But this is ME. These are my sisters, my friends, my nieces, my confidantes. WE are who this man was talking about. WE are the women he thinks he can take, who he thinks he has a right to….

Over and over. Unable to escape the ugly beliefs I heard him speak. Were they truths? And my usual strong, determined spirit was no where to be found. I felt less than. I read the words of a man who unflinchingly thought he could take something from me, and I felt broken.

I cried out, hoping the universe would carry my words and love to any who needed it – my sisters who have been assaulted, I see you, I love you. None of this was ever your fault.

I cried again, needing the words and love of others – can we hold each other? Can we stand side by side? When will this end…because I’m not sure how much strength I have.

I fell asleep crying. The rest of the weekend I practiced all the self-care I knew how. I walked by the water, I ate pastries, I listened to beautiful live music and let it sweep over me. And in those moments, my spirit started to heal. I ended the weekend reading the words of women on Twitter who refused to be silent about their assaults, and I began to see a beautiful, broken tapestry of stories.

And then my soul-sister Teal told me her story of assault, and I knew what we had to do. This is why we started this website. To shine a light where women have been taught to be silent and hidden. To stand up to shame and stigma and assert with our words that the darkness will not win.

So dear women, please send us your stories. This is your space.



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