Earlier this year I gave my first talk about the sexual abuse I experienced as a kid. I spoke to a local organization’s subcommittee about my experience of sexual abuse. It was a weird but powerful experience and a reminder of just how far I’ve come.

It was really scary putting my truth out there- even though I didn’t tell my whole story. I talked about my early history: I was 11 when I was first sexually abused. My abuser was someone the community respected. I experienced broken bones, 2nd and 3rd-degree burns, and the sexual abuse itself. I talked vaguely about the signs of abuse I exhibited. One obvious sign of sexual or physical abuse at home is a drastic change in school performance. People often conceive of this shift as new poor performance in school; a shift from good grades to poor performance, isolation from others, and troublesome behavior.

I exhibited a drastic change in my school performance but it wasn’t the shift people expect. Before the abuse, I was an average or even below-average student. I had a lot going on in my life and school just wasn’t my priority. I received C’s and some B’s in school up until my 6th grade school year. I didn’t mind school as a child but I didn’t ‘like’ it per se either- I thought school was for hanging out with my friends and socializing.

Over the summer and a few months into my 7th-grade year: I became a straight-A student. I joined after-school programs and befriended my teachers. I was withdrawn- but not in a way that brought attention. I acted more mature, dressed differently, and focused more on school. In one semester I became a straight-A student. I joined extracurricular activities and became a well-liked student. I wanted to be unnoticeable. I retained my extroverted nature but some days after rough nights, I was just… quiet. I changed completely, but I became a more likable student and my teachers didn’t question it. I became a good student which masked what I was experiencing at home. I went to the extreme that folks didn’t associate with what I was going through.

As I went into High School, I continued to use school and my gymnastics to distract myself from what I was going through. I filled my time to the point where I didn’t have a study hall or a lunch in high school. Instead, I took classes. AP classes, business classes- anything that I was remotely interested in. I joined the key club, DECA, French club, and anything else I could use to stay after school. When I would finally take the bus home, I would walk to the town library and read until closing in the back of the young adult section. I read so many books. It didn’t stop the abuse but it did help me survive and cope with what I was going through.

Before my talk, I pre-wrote the things I wanted to talk about and convey to my audience: adults in the lives of youth who might be experiencing abuse. I wanted to share signs that adults around me could have seen in me and share my perspective on how adults can help youth who they suspect might be experiencing abuse at home. I explained that when I thought about people finding out, I was terrified they would take me to the police because the person hurting me was a cop. I explained that as supporters of children, we need to look out for changes in youth behaviors and be careful about how we intervene. Before I gave my talk, I read a lot about how other people shared their stories and what was helpful for them. I thought about questions like: ‘why did I want to talk to this audience’, ‘why now’ or ‘what do I wish adults in my life knew?’ Then I used those answers to guide my presentation.

I also thought about what topics and parts of my story I didn’t want to talk about- and be prepared with a script in the event I was asked a question I didn’t feel comfortable with. I chose: ‘that’s not something I feel comfortable speaking to at this moment’. Though, in my case, I didn’t need to use this- it did feel good to have it prepared.

In the end, I had mixed feelings,  I overthought what I had said and worried I overshared or undershared but with some external validation, I came back to a place where I felt proud of what I had done. It took a lot of guts to do what I did- and I did it anyway.