The hardest sexual shame for me is the hardest part…

The hardest part you would think is the memory. Remember the wounds that started incest, and shame tells us.

But honestly, to me:

It realizes how much I adapted to.

How do I stuff myself into shapes to make others more comfortable.

How can I say it is out of obligation and in fear and remain silent.

I convinced myself that I didn’t need what I needed.

Shame is not a “ahha” moment.

It is a kind of quiet, ruthless sorrow and courage.

It is worth noting that shame still exists inside you and choose not to build a nest for it.

It’s hard work. But this is a sacred “undo”.

This is worth every embarrassing, terrible, liberating second.

Are you not ashamed? What is the hardest part for you?

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