The truth is I had been pithed before I got to med school. I had been eviscerated before my first day of the supposed best day of my life. The biggest blow: I never knew it.
The majority of interactions with the opposite sex before I started med school, we’re abusive. I wasn’t the abuser. My father was absent. He never touched me. He didn’t save me either. I forgive him, this world is crueler than his wildest imagination and mine.
Fast forward. Today I beat the scars of 30 years ago, of 3 years ago, of those dealt me by alleged sisterhood. But, I rise…
I’m not vengeful. I have no need to be. I find the atom of the original love within me. I see a hundred thousand ways I could’ve got to the realisation: I’m okay. I got here. You hurt me but I’m not destroyed. For all the ones that turned their face, for all the ones that walked away. For all the ones that justified their actions; I survived.
I’m still here furthering my humanist (feminist) agenda. X1000000, I’m not alone. we won’t stop.