“It’s your grief and you’re allowed to acknowledge that you feel that way. You can process it just like you are. Talking through it. The more you do, the easier it will come and the easier it will feel.”

She tries to respond but can’t, I look at the 20-year-old like she is me. That’s how I used to lay when I was struck with the past and could barely move, let alone talk about it.

I know the situation isn’t the same. What happened to Kelly with her ex-boyfriend was just as wrong as what was done to us in school, but there are some differences that I’ve been careful to acknowledge.

One similarity is that it wasn’t our fault. What happened to me happened because of my parents, and in another way, it happened because of the people who lied to my parents.

What happened to Kelly happened because of her boyfriend. It was his choice to act the way he did.

I think Kelly is at a place where she’s ready to see her own power again. That can be extremely hard, but without it, some people don’t feel that their lives are worth living.

“Kelly.” I keep my voice soft and my notebook and pen down. This is something I want to say to her directly, and I want her to hear it from me directly. I look her in the eyes, and her expression brightens with tentative hope. “Everything that happens—good or bad—has an impact. Sometimes it’s harder to see the changes that good things bring, but they affect us just like the bad things. All our experiences shape us this way. We’re constantly growing and constantly learning, and we’re all a little different every day because of what happens to us and because of how we deal with it. Those are the things that make us who we are. And you are coping the best you can and you’re taking steps. These are things to be proud of.”

She swallows, the cords in her neck tightening, “The only thing that makes sense is to pretend it didn’t happen or forget about it somehow. How else am I supposed to leave it in the past?”

“You don’t.”

Kelly’s doe eyes go wide.

“You can’t leave it behind because you can’t leave you behind. I know it hurts to have this with you. I know you’re suffering, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. If you could forget or pretend it didn’t happen, you’d be out there living your life and not trying to work through this.”

Kelly makes a helpless gesture, speechless at my suggestion.