I feel like an imposter in my trauma and experiences; I know it happened to me, but I feel like a fraud. I feel like I don’t fit into the group of survivors: like my experience isn’t as valid and as challenging as theirs. Even after I know for sure something has just happened to me, I believe my mind is creating it. I feel that I’m exaggerating the truth. I know I was sexually assaulted as a child, but when I look at others’ experiences and hear their stories, I convince myself we are talking about two different things. As if I don’t belong here, I think “I should get up out of my chair and excuse myself.” I relate with everything she is saying, yet hers is more real. Her story is more painful than mine, a comparison that is undoubtedly unrealistic. “This didn’t happen to me; it happened because of me,” my thoughts tantalize me. I have guilt; he did this to me, but what will happen to him? He is going to get in trouble. He is going to be angry, and his life will be “over.” But what about what he did to me? What about the way he made me suffer? And when I think of that, I feel even more guilt because that feels a lot like revenge. My therapist would say this is me shaming and blaming myself. This is me pointing my finger back at myself because I haven’t fully forgiven myself. This was not in any way my fault. And that is what I would tell a friend. So why can’t I feel that on my own?