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One of the deepest wounds I carried was the quiet, corrosive belief that I had somehow become damaged goods.

It is a work that defies genre and expectation: part memoir, part reckoning, part dialogue between a survivor and the man who violated her.

It was as if my mind replayed a reel of all the ways I’d been seeking God, often unknowingly. And in that moment, an overwhelming rush of love washed over me, undeniable and profound. I knew, without seeing or hearing Him, that I had encountered God. It was a quiet, personal revelation - an inner truth that forever changed the way I understood faith, identity, and the divine.