And to acknowledge this feels like a farce; especially since I am the daughter of a woman who I’ve never seen cry. Even as she lay dying, she did not cry.
Black Women and Pain: Reflections on Vulnerability
Reviewed by For Harriet
on
November 05, 2015
Rating: 5
I still remember feeling him hook the inside of his huge forearm around my neck and pile-drive me to the bed. I landed so hard the impact made both of my Etienne Aigner sandals fly off and hit the wall on the other side of the bedroom. I was only 17 years old and I was being raped by the first of two men who would change my life forever.
If You're Silent About Your Pain, No One Will Hear You: My Rape Story
Reviewed by Anonymous
on
September 16, 2015
Rating: 5
