Misfit Echoes

We walk through life carrying this burden, this heavy cloak of knowing. We see the world differently, through eyes that have witnessed horrors beyond comprehension. There's a tremble in our voices, a quietness in our spirits that speaks volumes to those who know how to listen. We are marked, forever altered by the hands of our abusers.

But it's not just the scars that linger, not just the memories that haunt our every step. It's the relentless questioning of what could have been. What if we had been spared this agony? What if our innocence had remained intact, a shield against the darkness that sought to devour us? We are left to wonder, to imagine the lives we might have lived had we not been robbed of our most precious possession.

And yet, even as we grapple with these unanswerable questions, we are met with a harsh reality. The world around us, populated by those who have never known such trauma, will never truly understand. We are misfits, outcasts in a society that cannot comprehend the depths of our suffering. We stand out like stains on a pristine white shirt, reminders of a darkness that most would rather forget.

We seek solace in therapy, in the words of psychiatrists and the comfort of sharing our stories with others who have walked similar paths. But these are not cures, merely ongoing treatments for wounds that may never fully heal. The victimization of child sex abuse should be recognized as a disability, a lifelong struggle that demands recognition and support.