Volunteering at SafePlace was gratifying but super upsetting, so I started journaling and writing poetry to keep from losing it. Things I’d suppressed started coming out in my writing. Mostly bad things that had happened at the hands of uncles, neighborhood boys, and my dad. It terrified me, but I couldn’t stop writing it all down. Even though it felt like I was grating my face with a cheese grater, it also felt like I was coming alive for the first time.
