Thirty-five years after being sexually assaulted while serving in Kuwait, I find myself asking a question that society still seems reluctant to answer: Why are we so concerned about protecting the futures of those accused of sexual violence while overlooking the futures of those who survive it?
Eight years after a rookie mistake, I still think about forgiveness, trust, and whether people should be forever judged by the worst decision they ever made.
Service dogs aren't "just dogs." They're partners, protectors, lifelines, and family. This is for Luka, Ranger, and everyone who has loved one.
Three years after Jacob's death, I received answers I never expected. This isn't a letter about grief. It's a letter about surviving control, violence, betrayal, and finally recognizing the freedom that came afterward.
