Help Me Pull The Trigger

It’s been a long time since I’ve been truly triggered.

Maybe I got a little arrogant about what I can handle. When you spend the better part of three years writing about sexual assault—your own, others, and those who commit them—you form a two way mirror between your feelings and the subject matter. I pride myself on my ability to remain rational about something that is so irrational. It becomes easy to express passionate rejection of the way people who have been sexually assaulted are treated, while emotionally blocking the unfounded opinions of rape apologists. It is a strong wall, the one between you and wearisome arguments, but there are weaknesses. Sometimes, you know what they are, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes, they change before you have the chance to reinforce them.

The triggers. They live to catch you unaware.

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A Tragedy of Choice

This case in Steubenville makes me think of my father.

Indeed, these cases always do.

My father is in prison and has been for nearly 25 years. He confessed and was convicted of sexual assault, more specifically, rape. I found out about this at 14 years-old. It wasn't the first time I'd asked, but the first time I asked someone other than my mother. For years, her response to that questions was,

"He can tell you about that."

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Questions About My Book

My book is creative nonfiction. Almost like a collection of essays, but a bit more cohesive. I wanted it to read more like a novel than a memoir, because those are my favorite memoirs. I toyed with the idea of writing a similar story as fiction, but it became very important to me that anyone who read this book knew that it was real, that it happened to me. Should anyone in similar circumstances ever read it, I want them to feel less alone in the world.

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