Vulnerable. Fragile. Naked.
The email sent to me by one of my readers related how the photo on the cover of my book so profoundly portrayed what she was feeling; but that was only half the story.
In her email, she told me how she was ready to end the pain and loneliness of her sexual assault that she'd worked so hard to recover from, the only way she knew how. She just didn't see any other way out ... until she noticed my book cover.
On it is the photo of a woman appearing vulnerable, fragile, and naked.
But to this young woman, "appearing"; was the operative word. This photo suggested more. To her, it represented the possibility of a rebirth, an opportunity to start over. To begin again. This photo represented the possibility that perhaps she didn't have to think about her sexual assault the same way. It was, after all, a moment in time, just as the photo was. Perhaps she could change her perception of the woman in the photo, she thought, and in turn her own assault. She could imagine the woman becoming stronger, rising up, becoming a more confident, more empowered version of herself. She felt for the first time since her assault that she had a choice. One more effort at recovery, she promised herself. One more, and that was it. She wrote to me having finished the book to tell me that she'd gotten what she needed, and more. And finally had a plan for her recovery. She'd followed me through my own therapy for sexual assault as if she was a fly on the wall. She read over and over, and even highlighted, parts of the second section. In it, I address common recovery questions both from a clinical view (I'm a licensed therapist) and also include other victim's perspectives. And she didn't go through with the very graphic details of ending her pain that she related in her email to me. You'll notice there are varying opinions about the photo on my cover below. But know this: The fact that one woman is alive and on her way to her own recovery means more to me than those who would deny another person's recovery over something as innocuous as a cover photo. To deny a victim of sexual assault an opportunity for recovery is irresponsible at best. Clearly, for this woman, the photo was the difference between life and death and for that I'm grateful.
The email sent to me by one of my readers related how the photo on the cover of my book so profoundly portrayed what she was feeling; but that was only half the story.
In her email, she told me how she was ready to end the pain and loneliness of her sexual assault that she'd worked so hard to recover from, the only way she knew how. She just didn't see any other way out ... until she noticed my book cover.
On it is the photo of a woman appearing vulnerable, fragile, and naked.
But to this young woman, "appearing"; was the operative word. This photo suggested more. To her, it represented the possibility of a rebirth, an opportunity to start over. To begin again. This photo represented the possibility that perhaps she didn't have to think about her sexual assault the same way. It was, after all, a moment in time, just as the photo was. Perhaps she could change her perception of the woman in the photo, she thought, and in turn her own assault. She could imagine the woman becoming stronger, rising up, becoming a more confident, more empowered version of herself. She felt for the first time since her assault that she had a choice. One more effort at recovery, she promised herself. One more, and that was it. She wrote to me having finished the book to tell me that she'd gotten what she needed, and more. And finally had a plan for her recovery. She'd followed me through my own therapy for sexual assault as if she was a fly on the wall. She read over and over, and even highlighted, parts of the second section. In it, I address common recovery questions both from a clinical view (I'm a licensed therapist) and also include other victim's perspectives. And she didn't go through with the very graphic details of ending her pain that she related in her email to me. You'll notice there are varying opinions about the photo on my cover below. But know this: The fact that one woman is alive and on her way to her own recovery means more to me than those who would deny another person's recovery over something as innocuous as a cover photo. To deny a victim of sexual assault an opportunity for recovery is irresponsible at best. Clearly, for this woman, the photo was the difference between life and death and for that I'm grateful.
