I had always dissociated myself from the event. I knew it happened, but I didn't understand that it happened to me.

My head spun as I heard my teammate describe a traumatic incident that recently happened to her. My throat felt as if it were being forced shut as I was for a loss for words. I sat down and clung to the balance beam I was on, taking in the gym around me as I tried to calm down. As my breathing became more rapid, I spit out "I was abused when I was younger. By a cousin. He molested me". The words didn't even register in my head, nor did I realize what I was even saying. I immediately shut my mouth as my teammate neared me. We didn't have any words to say to each other anymore, we just sat there in silence understanding each others pain.

My mom picked me up from the gym shortly after as I needed to go home to study for an exam. After the silent car ride home, I rushed upstairs and grabbed my laptop to begin studying, desperate to get my thoughts out of my head. However, I let my them consume me as I rapidly began searching for answers. "Why was I abused," "signs of sexual abuse," "what is molestation" and much more filled my browser history. My breathing became heavier and more difficult, and before I knew it I was in tears and under my covers.

I stripped off my clothes and looked in the mirror. I was humiliated, angry, confused. I waited until my shower was steaming hot until I hopped in. The second the water hit my body, the waterworks started. I was nonstop bawling. My head was pounding and I couldn't stop shaking. My visibility became tunnel visioned. I lowered myself onto the shower floor, curled up in a ball praying for it to end. "Why me?" I repeatedly asked God. I couldn't wrap my head around what was occuring .

Wiping the tears away, I put on my pajamas and reluctantly walked to the kitchen. I couldn't stop shaking, my mind was racing, and I was hyperventilating. I eyed my mom sitting at the counter but sat on the couch collecting my thoughts for what felt like an eternity. Finally mustering up the courage to talk, I neared my mom and asked if she had time to talk. A concerned look on her face emerged as she agreed, and I explained what I heard that night. I started stuttering as the tears began pouring again. "It made me think of what happened to me. I need to know, is it true?" I bawled to her. She automatically understood what I meant and quickly confirmed it, not leaving me with much reassurance or explanation. She reiterated the basics: I was assaulted at a young age, we're not sure exactly when, but we know I was a toddler. There is no confirmation that it happened more than once, the only possible evidence is that I have a feeling of it happening more than once; and that I was tested and it was determined that I was not raped.

Teary eyed, I went to bed with heavy eyelids and a racing mind. My insomnia had been heightened since a year prior to that night. Still searching the web for answers, a constant resentment was intruding my head. I had known it happened, but I always disassociate myself from the event. I had never let it in, I spent ten or more years burying the facts until they were blocked off by a wall I created.

Soon after I met with my first therapist. Then I met with a psychiatrist, and later another new therapist as well as joining a DBT group class. I still talk to my friend about the event frequently, and I've opened up to a bunch of friends and family.

That night was a wake up call. The memories were real, not made up. I wasn't imagining it at all. I felt angry, confused, depressed, frustrated, resentful. How could my parents let that happen to me? How could a relative carry out such a sin? Why me? Why would God allow this to happen to me? These questions can never be answered, and two years later, I'm still asking myself these questions frequently. But I do know these things:

• My abuse is something that I shouldn't be ashamed of. It was out of my control. My innocent toddler body did not ask for this in any way.
• Having a close, understanding friend or circle to support you and for you to support makes all the difference. Surround yourself with others that make you feel better about yourself and your past, and do the same for them.
• Always appreciate those who have been there for you, and give them the same love and support in return.
• God, or the universe, or whatever you believe in has a plan for you. At times it can be cloudy, but God puts you in tough situations because he knows how strong you are to endure them and how much you can grow. A flower can't grow without a little rain.
• Forgiveness doesn't always have to be expected or given.