From total darkness to an incredible lightness of being.

Once upon a time, I existed in a dark, dark room. The windows had been blacked out, and monsters lurked everywhere, not just under the bed. I forgot that feeling was anything more than emotional pain, so I needed to cause myself physical pain, just so I could remember a different sensation.

My left arm. That has been a constant, ugly reminder of that dark room, of those dark times. Those scars stood out, a staunch reminder that once upon a time, I was Not Okay.

I've woken up recently. I realized that I transitioned from that dark room to a room where there was light, but still a film over the windows. I was seeing, but not clearly. When I had that realization, when I let myself feel completely again, I decided never again would I let that film cloud the way. No matter what hurt it brought, it's worth it. And in these few short weeks since that's happened, I've felt more emotions -- good and bad -- than I have in years. It's incredible. I decided a I needed a visual reminder, something that speaks to me, that has always spoken to me, to make me recall how much life sucked before the film was lifted from the glass.

I had started to transform my left arm from a thing of darkness to a thing of light, but it stalled. Just an outline, something that had been done erroneously, something that I was unhappy with. I decided to take charge again, to draw that reminder out and down, and my forearm piece was born.

After that, I took a deep breath, and decided to turn my upper arm into a thing of beauty, even if it wasn't what I originally envisioned. I wanted...no, needed...to own it. I needed to make it something that reflected the incredible lightness that had become being me these days. Behold. The focal point is no longer my scars. It is hours of loving work, sisterly inspiration, backing from friends, and a lot of encouragement from many places. It isn't what I originally wanted, but it IS something I love, and it does reflect the beauty that my life has become.

A song bird in flight, and a freshly opened flower for every day. Welcome to my new bright room, y'all.

We are all victims of Steubenville.

There have been many things floating through my mind since the first images and videos of the Steubenville rape emerged.

My loathing of the misogyny of asserting that we're all someone's sister or daughter, that we're just related to men and that's why it's wrong. My anger at the rape culture and rape apology. The shameful, disgraceful attitude of "woe is them" around the world towards these boys that committed the rape.

I want to discuss another aspect of it, though.  I want to tell the world that all women are victims of the Steubenville rape.

RAINN reports that every two minutes in the United States, a sexual assault occurs. I am a double survivor of those assaults.

When I was not much younger than the girl who has survived the Steubenville event, I was date raped. Too afraid to tell anyone, I suffered in silence for a decade. I survived a violent sexual assault that ten years later, and that's when I admitted everything. No longer could I keep silent.

Because of the apologist and accepting attitude of our communities, every woman is potentially forced to endure their torment in silence.

Because of the apologist and accepting attitude of our communities, every woman is a sympathetic survivor of that rape, because it could have been or will be her at any time, on any day.

"Slut" shaming is not an excuse.

Getting drunk is not an excuse.

Wearing a short skirt or a low cut shirt is not an excuse.

There IS NO excuse.

So why is the collective we still commenting on how brave those boys must be for enduring the fact that they'll be labeled sexual offenders for the rest of their lives? The collective we would not be so forgiving if they had assaulted an eight year old. So what if she was 16? She's still a child. Granted, they were children themselves, but THAT DOES NOT MAKE THIS OKAY.

I hope when you look in the mirror, look at your best friend, at your sister, your daughter, your partner, your boss, your co-worker, I hope you remember that we are all victims too, and I hope you do your part to change the culture that makes it all okay.