All in Women

When you can't move on until...

At 33, on my therapist’s table, I re-connected to the emotions of my childhood sexual invasion. That moment is the line between the before and the after I became a witness to my own life. Up to then I had lived with odd and unexplained instances of depression, guilt, and shame that would leave me lying in bed with soul-weary heaviness and a deep desire to unzip myself from my flesh.

Public Penis

Walking home with friends through the ravine, I spotted a man under a tree exposing himself to us. He had dark hair and a dark moustache and wore a dark baseball hat. I pointed it out, we all squealed and ran and told an adult in the park walking her dog. She said she’d call the cops. I don’t know if she did.