Me Too

But, I’ve never (until now) talked about it publicly. I don’t talk about it privately, for that matter. I just don’t talk about it. Talking about it would mean thinking about it, reliving it. It would mean anxiety and sadness. An increased heart rate. Maybe tears. Maybe a lack of breath. So no, I don’t talk about it. 

I admire the women that do. I won’t pretend to imagine what it takes.

Last week, my husband asked me if I had been following the Nassar trial. “No. I can’t. Too close to home.” And that was that. Not another word was spoken about it by me, or him. 

Today, as I saw the sentencing headline, I thought about my own daughters. I thought about the “Me Too” campaign. My heart coils at the possibility of them, too, suffering in this way. 

Do I have to go back into this place to avoid the naitivity and to be able to better protect my children? 

As a parent, how do I educate myself? How do I ask the right questions? How do I pick up on the right cues? How do I protect them? In an ever-changing world, how do I keep them safe from predators? When do we start talking about these issues? It’s overwhelming. And, it taps into a dark place. But, I have to go there, for their sake. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Even if it feels like I can’t breathe, I can do this. 

So can you. YOU and I … we can do anything. If the “why” for doing something is big enough … if the consequences of NOT doing it are profound enough, we can do anything. Next time I think of “Me Too,” I’m thinking of courage, strength and the perseverance it takes to change the future for our children. You can. Me too.