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I almost didn’t share this, but it feels important to say it out loud for others to witness and process for themselves. It took me eight years to believe my own body. To stop downplaying the story. Eight years to fully and truly believe: something happened to me and it wasn’t okay. That matters now because what other survivors need—individually and collectively—isn’t just about exposure or justice or outrage. It’s also about capacity. The ability to stay present with ugly truth without collapsing, denying, or passing the harm along. That’s slow work for individuals and even slower for the collective. Capacity isn’t built as quickly as our cries for justice may demand. And for therapists especially, this is familiar territory. We know how long it can take for a survivor to trust what they know and how easy it is to want people to “wake up faster” so that justice may be served. But if we want systems that don’t tolerate harm, first we have to become people who don’t tolerate it in ourselves or our communities. This is wounded healer work. This is capacity-building. And it’s not optional anymore if we want to build a world that’s safe for all of us to heal.