Seeing bruises on my daughter all week, I walked into her room and found her shaking. “If I tell you, they’ll hurt you real bad,” she cried. “Tell me everything,” I begged. As she exposed the horrific weekend beatings and dark closet punishments by my in-laws, my heart shattered into ice. I stood up, locked the door, and whispered…

to me. Grandma was a sick, cruel woman who enjoyed hurting small things. You are beautiful. You are good. You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to make noise.”

It took forty-five minutes of holding her on the bathroom floor before her breathing stabilized.

I immediately intensified her sessions with Dr. Chambers, a specialized pediatric trauma continue reading …