I am always taken aback by the outpouring of empathy I receive after I post something extremely personal from my past. My friends are the best humans on the planet, so I’m not surprised by their support. It’s when strangers reach out to me that I am pleasantly surprised. Okay, here’s the situation…

Let me start by saying that I appreciate all of the love and encouragement that I receive from those that I care about who are closest to me. I hope they understand that I am perfectly fine now. I am able to share those stories, because I no longer feel attached to them. It’s not me that I am writing about. It’s an old friend that I once knew and loved. I share her stories to help others see that they don’t have to let their traumas define their identities.

In this case, someone was impressed by one of my stories and reached out to me personally. I was touched by her gratitude and praise, though I do not feel particularly courageous. This remarkable woman suffered atrocities I could not imagine enduring, yet she thanked me for my bravery. No, Friend, thank you. Seriously. I am honored that I have the opportunity to meet incredible, strong, brilliant, beautiful people like you.

People like you reaffirm my faith in the innate goodness in humanity. People like you make me reflect on my actions to gauge whether or not I am doing enough to make the world a better place. People like you, with your kind and loving hearts, inspire people like me to be the best versions of ourselves. People like you give me a reason to pray for a harmonious world and believe that we will live to see it come to pass.

Thank you, Friend. I love you too.


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