*This is only meant as an outlet for my writing and telling about some of my life experiences and only represents my personal experiences. This blog will be a continuation as a outlet for this. Thank you for reading.*
By: ©GoodLuckNow. 7/2/2021. All Rights Reserved
Law School Dreams
My dream was to be a lawyer. To tackle our justice system and prove that it worked. Now some of you may think, that’s impossible but this thought was a dream of mine. I wanted to be just like those lawyers on television that took a stand and defended or prosecuted those that broke the law. I wanted to see true justice happen with fair trials and our system at work. Law is a tool to use in our justice system, to ensure that when crimes are committed or laws are broken something is done and those that do wrong will be held accountable and have to take responsibility. My aspirations for wanting to make an impact and change drove me from such a young age. I wanted to leave an imprint on this world and use the law as a tool to make sure justice was happening. That truth would prevail, even if it was hard to hear and hard to say. I wanted to make a change for the better. My drive for this and believing and thinking that we as humans could make our country truly free, just and equal and uphold values and laws that embodied this, pushed me to want to make an actual difference and break through any barriers that were or could be in my way.
My second year in college, my life was incredibly rocked. I was far from home, living the typical college student dream . I took a taxi from a boyfriend’s house back to my school and ended up taking quite a long ride. This was not by the choice of my own. He kept going and had no interest in letting me go. The gun scared me, his force did too. I was stuck. Fast forward, I got away. I decided once I got away, I wouldn’t let the sadness rule my life. I wouldn’t only be forever labeled as a victim. I wanted justice, I wanted the world I saw as a 19 year old girl to not be forever changed. Crimes were committed and I survived. With this survival, I changed. I was reborn in ways that are not easily explained with words. I knew that I did not want the words and phrases victim, sexual assault survivor, kidnapped escapee, held captive, etc ( graphic in nature) to only define me. Those phrases and many more I turned into my power, my thoughts were forever changed, along with how I live my life. I survived but my journey and story is more than just that. I wanted justice, I wanted change.
After everything happened I know now I became a shadow of sorts, but not in the way you would think. I became a shadow of my former self that was embodied with fuel of belief and purpose to bring justice to myself and to others that suffered from things they couldn’t control. The WHY embodied all of me to a degree that may have even become unhealthy. Within 6 months of the event and the next year I only functioned on action. From multiple court cases and convictions to appearing on National television, I did not feel human I felt more, purpose. I was certain in ways I never have been before. I became steadfast on who I was, how I presented to the world and the ideas that drove became life. They were not dreamy thoughts and allusion any longer of a sheltered child full of hope. I couldn’t not take action. Action and purpose became me. The new me. I manifested this in many ways. Internally, there was a change within me. A change that still is within me. The psychologists, my family, my friends, my school and the world saw a girl that survived horrible atrocities and came out on the other side. Side Note *The person that did this to me was caught and convicted and 15 years later is still in prison.*
Bad things happen, you’ll never be the same. To this I say okay, you’re right. The opportunity to grow is there. Perspective is key. We can’t control certain things in this world but we can control how we react to them.
Many people go to therapy. I am an advocator for mental health. After everything happened I went too. One thing that still sticks with me and forever will was when my therapist said, like everyone around me, it was a miracle that I survived and was okay. We talked and recounted everything, it was not hard to talk about it. All the gory details from the moment where I thought it was normal taxi ride to the moment I walked up to a random house and knocked on the door to ask for help. Its always been easy to talk about. The therapist told me that the way I was processing everything was atypical and astounding. These words stay with me, I can still hear them being said. I’ve analyzed them myself and even asked why they were said to the therapist I saw. Was this just an example of the niceties we say? Why was the way I doing things atypical? Was it wrong? Was it right? Was I broken? Fast forward the answer is no, its not wrong, its not right, I was not and am not broken. A piece of me didn’t get taken away. My soul was not scarred, how I dealt was my way. Now with this being said, those that love and care about me, my family, saw me go through this and some may even think that a piece of me was taken away, that I was broken or will never be the same. What the therapist, the person that did this to me, and most people that know me fail to realize is that I am stronger because of it all.
When tears ran down my face it wasn’t for what I lost it was for the pain that those I cared about were in that I couldnt fix. The impact changed me but it changed part of their lives as well. I wasn’t mourning the “loss of my old self” I was changing and I will forever know that within myself even if others couldn’t at the time understand. To be fair I am writing this 15 years later, I was unable to communicate this effectively and just did not to those that were close because it was something I was trying to understand myself. I couldn’t expect them to understand when I did not. I felt awake. I felt like my purpose was known and the past me, prior to it all , was me but the new me was evolving in front of them. I would never wish this on anyone and it was an experience of my own, but it definitely impacted my life. The direction I took that impact was different but not wrong. 15 years later, post therapy and self improvement, analysis and experiences, I can put to words what I felt then, now.
One of the last things the person that did this said to me was, “you’ll remember me and this forever, I’ll always have a part of you and that you will never get back.” The one thing he did not know was that me remembering was never something I feared, it was fuel.
Cheers to that and perspective. Thank you for reading. ❤️