Content warning: This story contains details about sexual assault and abuse.
I was lying on the sofa in my therapist’s office staring up at the ceiling. We’d discovered that I was more likely to open up when I wasn’t looking at her. It felt less vulnerable. And for the first time in more than a decade of therapy, I started to talk about feelings I’d never shared. I told her that for my entire life, I’d had a sense that I was being taken advantage of. Then out of nowhere, I said, “Even when I’m intimate.”
Then she said words that would change me forever: “The way you’re describing
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