Just another day:
It was just another day. At least, that’s what I’d told myself.
But it’s not, is it? the little voice in my head whispered.
I knew it wasn’t either, but if I left myself believe that, I was doomed to let the waves of self-doubt and fear overwhelm me and claim me as yet another victim.
And I wasn’t.
“You can do this,” I told myself firmly. “You’ve totally got this.”
As I looked in the mirror at my reflection, I almost didn’t recognise the beautiful and strong woman who stared back at me.
I was going to blow the lid on the corporation who had protected the men and silenced its women.
It wasn’t just another day.
It was my court hearing against the man who had stolen my love and twisted it into a disfigured version that made him more comfortable.
And now I was going to harness every bit of love I had managed to savour and do what was necessary.
I was going to show myself the love and respect he never had.
I was a survivor.