#MeToo

For a long time, I struggled to talk about my experiences with sexual harassment. I was afraid of being blamed, misunderstood, or questioned about what I did to cause it. Sadly, women are still too often asked to explain their behavior instead of having their boundaries respected.

It took time for me to understand that what happened was not my fault. Through mindfulness and reflection, I began recognizing the shame, fear, and insecurities I had carried for years. I realized that healing wasn't about pretending the past never happened. It was about no longer allowing it to define how I saw myself or lived my life.

When Someone You Trust Crosses a Boundary

One of my earliest experiences happened with a male friend from a faith-based organization. We had never been in a relationship, but he began making inappropriate sexual remarks and touching me without my consent. I was young and unsure how to respond.

A trusted friend helped me recognize that what happened was not okay and encouraged me to create distance. But when the person involved shared a version of the story that made it seem as though I had initiated what happened, I felt deeply hurt. As someone who held a leadership role, I worried about my credibility and how others would see me.

Eventually, with the support of friends, I found the courage to speak up. An apology followed, but the experience stayed with me. Moving to another city for college gave me the space I needed to begin healing.

The People Who Helped Me Trust Again

Thankfully, my experiences weren't defined by hurt alone. Through another program connected to the broader organization, I met kind people from different universities who welcomed me without judgment. They reminded me that there were people I could trust and feel safe around. It was also where I met my guy best friend.

Their kindness helped me understand that while some people may violate our trust, others can restore our faith in human connection.

When I Started Hiding Myself

I experienced other forms of harassment, too. Sometimes, people used my physical features as an excuse for unwanted touching, as though the way I looked somehow justified their behavior.

Over time, I became insecure about my body. I wore loose clothing to hide my figure and stopped going to clubs because I felt safer avoiding places where unwanted attention might happen.

Eventually, I began questioning why I was the one making my world smaller.

I realized that I shouldn't have to hide my body, change my appearance, or give up places I enjoy because someone else refuses to respect my boundaries. I can choose what to wear and where to go based on what makes me happy and comfortable—not out of shame or fear that I might somehow be responsible for another person's actions.

Carrying That Awareness Into My Work

My experiences also shaped how I approached my work in community development, particularly during disaster rehabilitation. There were times when I was assigned alone to far-flung communities and had to work with people I barely knew.

I learned to stay aware of my surroundings and communicate with colleagues whenever a situation made me uncomfortable. I wanted to continue doing meaningful work and engaging with communities without ignoring my own safety.

For me, the lesson was not to live in fear or assume the worst of everyone. It was to recognize that being openhearted and taking precautions can coexist.

What Healing Taught Me

Mindfulness helped me acknowledge the pain I had carried without judging myself for it. I learned to offer myself the compassion I needed instead of repeatedly questioning what I could have done differently.

I also became more conscious of how unresolved hurt can affect the way we see ourselves and relate to others. I want to keep healing—not because I was responsible for what happened, but because I deserve to move forward without carrying shame that was never mine.

And I'm grateful for the wonderful men in my life today who love and respect me. Through their kindness, support, and actions, they remind me that healthy relationships are possible and that I don't have to choose between being openhearted and protecting my boundaries. They haven't erased my past, nor is it their responsibility to do so. But their presence has shown me what genuine respect can look like.

Healing, I've learned, doesn't mean forgetting. It means making room for the past without letting it dictate the future.

This Is My “Me Too”

For a long time, I hesitated to share my story because I knew others had experienced things far worse. But pain isn't a competition. We don't have to compare our experiences or wait until something becomes unbearable before we allow ourselves to speak.

This is my story. Not because I have everything figured out, but because I know how isolating it can feel to carry experiences you don't know how to name.

I am more than what happened to me, more than the insecurities I carried, and more than the silence I once thought I had to keep.

If sharing this helps even one woman feel less alone or release some of the shame that was never hers to carry, then perhaps something meaningful can come from the silence I once held.

Our stories deserve to be heard. Our bodies deserve respect. And our lives should never have to become smaller because someone else failed to honor our boundaries.

We deserve to live, dress, work, love, and take up space in this world without having to earn our right to feel safe.