It's important to note the very personal, very impactful and damaging nature of internalizing the message: "I don't believe you."

Let me say this "out loud," because I needed it said to me:

Just because someone else says it didn't happen doesn't mean it didn't happen. I was 12 when I was raped.

You know what I was most afraid of? I was most afraid of getting in trouble for having let someone into the house while my family was away. I was most afraid of having to explain that I only invited him in to help him with math homework.

I was 12.

Here's the story of how my trauma put a literal hole in my abdomen.

I'm typing as I go; please forgive typos and/or wonky syntax. And try to forgive me if halfway through it I delete and/or disappear. This story, this experience are still pretty raw. Also, let me go ahead & disclaim:

I am no one. I am an authority on nothing.

I don't have a license to practice anything but driving.

Please never construe anything I ever say as medical, legal, or other advice.

I'm telling a story.

I wouldn't listen to me if I were you.

Today in Salt Lake City I protested for the 70th time in 70 days.

I cried most of the 2.5 hours I stood.

It was healing.

It was cleansing.

It was so deeply—so very bone-and-soul-deep, deeply—painful.

And infuriating.

And terrifying.

Tonight, I grieved.

#StandOnEveryCorner Today, in list after list of people who vouch for Brett Kavanaugh's honor, I heard loudly & clearly from my own US Senator:

A woman's voice does not, cannot, will not matter.

A man in power—a man with a lot to lose—can and will swiftly silence women who dare speak truth.