When I was in seminary a few of us started a support group for survivors of intimate violence. There hadn't been such a group for a long time, and as far as I know it disbanded when we graduated. But four of us met faithfully every two weeks for a year. Two beautiful women from Womanspace met with us. We prayed. We spoke. We heard one another. We sat in silence. We raged. We mourned. We made connections between what had happened in our own families with the dysfunction we found in seminary. We confirmed for one another that we weren't crazy.
Four of us met. Only four of us out of a student body of 500. I remember thinking that maybe there were only four of us who had ever experienced intimate violence. I felt sad, lonely, and a bit odd about that. On my more cynical days I decided that there were only four of us who cared enough to join together. I felt angry about that. Four of us met in a room that could have easily held 100. The four of us tapped into great spiritual power in those hours spent in that room. Imagine had more of you joined us.
So yes, I am well. I am simply not silent.