When I was 19, I started dating a friend of a friend. He seemed like an okay guy. Ended up being very abusive (verbally), and the relationship ended after he raped me. I became pregnant. Despite the occurrence, I was overjoyed. I was going to have a child. Despite the circumstances, I was happy, which led to a lot of confusion. Someone whom I had trusted violated me, but I was almost... thankful? I'm not sure that's the right word. I went through all the proper measures to make sure that he couldn't harm me or my child. Three weeks before my due date, I went into labor. My baby was stillborn. The doctor's never found a reason. After her death, I was obsessed. I couldn't understand why I had to keep suffering like that. Why did my baby have to die when I had to endure that? Am I forever doomed to such suffering? I became methodical. I tried therapy, didn't like how angry it made me, so I promptly searched for a different therapist. Found a lady that worked. I made a schedule for myself. Woke up early. Ate. Exercised. Small things. Would promise my parent's dog that I'd be over to walk him. Little things. Kept me one step in front of the other. Didn't let myself lay about too much, because I always went to the bad place when I did. Since all of this, I've married and had another child. However, I'm broken up. I hate my boyfriend for doing that to me but... I'll always be grateful for that child. There are days where I wish that none of it happened, so I wouldn't feel so filthy in my husband's eyes (he doesn't think less of me for this having happened), but then I feel guilt, because I'll always love my children, no matter the circumstance. One day, he showed up at my work place with his new family. I was able to look him in the eye, nod, smile, and wish him a happy shopping experience. I was free. These things will always stain us but... I think it can fade. The power can be negated. Stay strong. I will try hard to stay strong.