As I've shared before, when I was 12, I was playing at a friend's house one hot August afternoon when I was told I was needed at home. As I turned into my long driveway, I saw the lights of an ambulance, a stretcher being loaded into the back. The doors slammed shut. The whirling lights threw red streaks across the oaks as it sped past me out of our driveway. No one noticed the small, pale, immobilized girl standing by the mailbox.
I was twenty-two when I pulled my car across six lanes of traffic in Delaware. I should've made a right, circled around, and waited for the light. Instead, I aimed straight for the median, a shortcut I'd taken a dozen reckless times before. Headlights came at me fast. Then the slam: metal folding into metal, my body flung sideways, glass exploding. I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. If I had been, I believe the door would have cut me in half.
"I had to let myself feel the pain, the grief, the gratitude of being given my life back. The thought of almost dying while doing something I loved was unimaginable...I don't know if fate is real or not, or if there is truth behind destiny, but I do believe that everything that happens in life provides an opportunity."
Despite the support from friends and family, Simon Meyer’s victims are grappling with lifelong trauma after enduring his sexual abuse and secret filming.
I'd been commitment-phobic most of my adult life. I had almost gotten married in my early 20s, calling off the wedding just a month before the big day. The experience of breaking up with someone I had thought I'd spend my life with was traumatic, and left me with serious commitment issues.