Has it really been Five Years?

It's really been five years; Almost six, since I was raped (or technically by the definition of New York state law 'forcibly penetrated') by three of my guy 'friends' my freshmen year of college.

I am finally starting to feel like my whole identity isn't wrapped up in what happened, or in feeling the need to violently champion for people who are in abusive situations.  I don't feel like everyone looks and me and knows that I am different, that I am broken.

My whole purpose in life is not to prevent to suffering of others, which that is a great deal of what I want to do I am finally starting to feel like I can live for myself.

I don't feel like the most interesting thing about me is that I am a survivor of sexual assault.  It's amazing that I actually feel like a survivor.  For a long time I said "survivor" but I still felt so horrible inside that I didn't actually feel I was surviving, it was more like rotting from the inside out.  Five years of feeling like an emotional pussjewel that ached and was ready to burst all over at any instant or provocation.

Finally I am not waiting to cave in on myself at any instant, feeling whole, like I can do anything.

I can finally make art about something else.

I told my therapist then that I didn't think that there actually was a ever going to be a time that I felt this way. But here is it.

I guess this is what they call moving on.