There is a particular kind of ache that surfaces when stories of abuse are unfolding in real time.

When details are shared.
When victims are questioned.
When predators seem powerful.
When accountability feels uncertain.

Something in my body tightens.

And even though my story is my own, something very young inside me whispers:

“If they aren’t believed… will I ever be?”

As a sexual abuse survivor, being believed has been one of the most crucial parts of my healing.

There is something healing about someone looking at you and saying,​
“I hear you.”
“That should not have happened.”
“I believe you.”

With everything happening in the world right now, I can feel how easily my nervous system slides toward fear. Toward the old story that says:

No one will hear you.
No one will protect you.
No one will hold them accountable.

And when that fear rises, I notice something important.

It isn’t just about the headlines.

It’s about safety.

Nate Postlewait wrote something on his instagram that deeply resonated with me:

And this:
“… The experiences you are having are real, and shared. It may feel like you are an outcast, but you’re not.”

And this:

“You deserve breathing space from this as much as you can get.”

And this:

“How you feel matters.”

When I read his words this week, I didn’t just agree with them.

My little Cami softened.

Because what she needed most wasn’t commentary.

She needed space, protection and someone to say:
You don’t owe anyone your story.
​ Your fear makes sense.
​ You are not dramatic.
​ You are not wrong.

Nate also said:

“Feel free to step away from social media. You don’t owe anyone your story, or an explanation of how much pain you’re in and why.”

That permission matters.

Especially when the world feels loud and performative and hungry for reaction.

And I have been reminded lately, that part of my healing has been learning to become the safe space I once searched for.

To pause.

To notice when my body freezes, braces, rages, pretends it’s fine, hides, shuts down, and get’s overwhelmed.

To sit with my inner girl and say:

I believe you.
I know what happened.
It wasn’t your fault.
You are not crazy.
You are not making this up.

And when fear rises that predators are not being held accountable, I can gently remind her:

We are doing what we can...We are making the calls...
We are speaking truth where it is safe to do so.
We are creating safe spaces now.
We are not alone anymore.

Healing isn’t just about processing.

Sometimes it’s about noticing how current events re-open old doors — and choosing to sit beside ourselves instead of abandoning ourselves.

If the stories in the world right now are touching something tender in you, I want you to know:

Your reaction makes sense.
Your body makes sense.
Your anger makes sense.
Your fear makes sense.

And you deserve safe space.

Whether that’s stepping away.
Calling a trusted friend.
Moving your body.
Writing.
Crying.
Or simply placing your hand on your heart and whispering:

I believe you.

That might be the most radical healing act of all.

And if you want something practical to hold onto, here is what I did.

I sat down and intentionally invited my inner girl forward.

Not to analyze her.
Not to correct her.
Not to rush her.

Just to let her speak.

I asked her,​
What are you feeling right now?

And then I listened.

When she was finished, I told her:
I believe you.
I know what happened.
It wasn’t your fault.

I gave myself (and her) a hug. And then I reminded her:

I am the adult now.​
And I am protecting you.

I let that land in my body - as a nervous system truth.

Then I gently asked her,​
Can you trust me?

And I waited.

When I did this practice recently, my little girl said yes.

She said she did trust me.

And when I asked her what she wanted to do next, she didn’t say,
“Fix it.”
She didn’t say,
“Go fight.”
She didn’t say,
“Explain everything to everyone.”

She has asked me to do those things in the past…but this time…

She said she wanted to run off and play.

She wanted to go into the front yard.
Climb our apple tree.
Feel the bark under her hands.
Feel the freedom of not carrying big adult problems.

That moment reminded me of something so important:

My inner child does not need to carry the weight of justice systems, headlines, predators, or public discourse.

That is adult work.

Her job is to play.
To feel.
To be free.
To rest in safety.

And my job now is to create that safety.

So if the world feels loud and frightening right now, maybe you could try this:

Pause.
Place a hand on your heart or belly.
Invite your younger self forward.
Let her share.
Tell her you believe her.
Tell her you are protecting her.
Ask if she can trust you.
Ask what she needs next.

I wonder what your inner child's answer will be….You can trust it….

Maybe it’s play.
Maybe it’s rest.
Maybe it’s stepping away.
Maybe it’s climbing your own apple tree.

You are allowed to create breathing space.

You are allowed to protect your younger self.

You are allowed to believe her.

I am with you in this,

Remember, ❤️

You Matter. Your Healing Matters. You Are Worth It!

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