Originally Posted by
Altenweg
My suffering has made me a hard person in many ways. I've put a protective shell around my heart that very few can penetrate. Sadly, I've been told I'm not as tough as I think I am.
The only thing that my suffering has done is made me weary of everything around me. My daughter is 7 years old now, two years older then I was when I was molested. My husband and I don't go out without the kids, there's only one person I trust to watch them and he lives 1 hour away and works most weekends. I'm overly protective in a lot of ways, but I know what monsters lurk in shadows, I won't allow myself to let my guard down. No one is above suspicion, I will not let my children become victims.
I know that one day I will die of cancer. It's inevitable. The sad thing is, both my husband and I have passed those genes to our kids. Both sets of parents died of this disease and it's likely my children will lose their parents to this disease as well.
Yes, my suffering has made me stronger, but I wouldn't wish that "strength" on anyone. What I learned is the worst lesson of all. I found the strength to survive, because I had to, but I'm not a better person for it, not at all.