My cotton pajama top was damp around the collar and chest, a physical reminder of the horrific dream I had just endured. Groggy and anxious, I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to piece together the remnants.
As I closed my computer, the tears came, quietly at first, then in deep, aching sobs. I cried for that young girl––the child who grew up and endured so much pain, fear, and suffering. I cried for her loneliness, her desperate need for love and safety, and for all the times she was told she wasn’t good enough and could never become a nurse.
“Why didn’t you just leave?”
On the surface, it sounds like a logical question. If someone is being abused, physically, emotionally, financially—why wouldn’t they just walk away?