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While this poem about domestic violence does not accurately represent my reality, it does represent emotions that I have struggled with for years. When people ask, "Why didn't they report it? Why didn't they leave? Why didn't they say something at the time?", they underestimate the power that the men have over women in these situations. Forty years ago, I was inappropriately touched as a child by someone who visited my home. To this day, I can't speak his name due to fear of humiliation, for fear of causing scandal, for fear of not being believed. I grew up hating my body. I grew up not trusting men. It ruined any relationship that I tried to have. This was followed by a male showing me his genitals when I was a teenager trying to deliver his newspaper. It was followed by a college professor who tried to get me to meet him in a bar after class when I asked for class help and then was highly critical of anything I turned in for a grade after I refused. It was followed by being violated by someone who I thought cared about me to the point where I was afraid to even undress in my own home. MeToo isn't just about sexual harassment. It isn't just about wanting attention or wanting to harm someone who is rich and powerful. MeToo is about the strength of women who finally say, it is NOT OK. MeToo is about acknowledging the pain and emotional trauma that violations of our bodies create. It takes so much courage to come forward. This is as close as I've gotten and the idea of it tears me apart. #MeToo.