Donna Freitas has scars, which she tells us:
But as with other victims I know what it is like to have my faith in the priesthood terribly violated, and for that violation to nearly destroy me. My experience felt like it went on forever. I became a master-avoider to this priest's never-ending, ever-more-creative advances and attentions because I didn't know what else to do or how to handle them. I became ever more isolated in my silence, confusion, and shame, in the utter revulsion and horror I felt. And, like other victims, when out of desperation I finally told on him, the Catholic officials' response (or lack of one) to my begging and pleading to make his behavior stop was to prioritize only my silence. I know what it is like to sit in a room with powerful people who want nothing more than for you to disappear, to shut up, who could care less for your safety, your sanity, your well-being. I also know the fear of speaking up to my very core. I still feel that shame and fear. I feel it right now as I type these words. I know the exhaustion of living in the aftermath of this experience and trying to move forward from it without any place to put all that feeling, all that anger. I know what it is like to never have anyone say, "I'm sorry about what happened to you."
There is however so much more to it for her than that, as she explains.
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