In high school, hiding didn’t protect me from bullying—so I stopped trying to disappear. Instead, I chose outrageous authenticity: twirling flags in the marching band, donning a cape as the school mascot, and celebrating the parts of me others tried to erase. I wasn't fully free yet, but every messy, brave act was a step toward reclaiming my voice—and planting the seeds of true self-acceptance.

Every year, my rapist wishes me a happy birthday on Facebook. This year, I’m reclaiming my story before the post arrives.

The universe was unmistakably delivering a message: it was time to break the silos that compartmentalized my life.