by Christina Enevoldsen I talk about my childhood sexual abuse very publicly now, but I didn’t start there. The first time I ever told anyone I’d been abused it didn’t go very well. For years, I’d repressed most of my childhood memories when suddenly, in my early twenties, I knew I’d been abused. The knowledge [...]

by Christina Enevoldsen When I was a kid, The Wizard of OZ aired on television once a year. I didn’t know any families who didn’t anticipate this event. My family never missed it. We’d eat dinner early, make popcorn and enthusiastically settle in. The Wizard of Oz is an enchanting story of a twelve-year-old Kansas [...]

My brother’s first memory was the adventure of crawling underneath the fence in our backyard to play with the neighbor’s dogs. I envy him. My first memory was of getting raped. I remember laying on the kitchen table with my open diaper covered in blood — an image that constantly repeats itself in my head. [...]

I feel like most of my life has been an effort to wake up from a nightmare.  I had a desperate need to escape to the light of day, to free myself from the strange dreamworld of an alternate reality. I don’t remember thinking about sexual abuse until I was about fourteen or fifteen.  I [...]