Another Man's Trash is a Woman's Emotional Garbage

I spent several days last week wading through the deep waters of another woman’s sexual harassment and stalking experience. There were pages upon pages of typed notes, collections of years of trauma and psychological torment. They were raw and vulnerable-- her tattered story stripped down to only the worst parts. I read every word… over and over and over again.

I never would have imagined a decade ago this woman and I would be such close friends. It was an accidental friendship that began with

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Watching Your Faith Go Up in Smoke

I watched in horror with those all over the world as Notre Dame Cathedral burned and smoke billowed into the air. One of the oldest and most famous cathedrals in the world, it was erected over 800 years ago but took only a few hours for the great spire to topple like a child’s block tower.

As the fire burned, unscathed by the water cannons flooding the structure, virtual onlookers began to speculate if the building would be totally consumed or if enough could be saved and rebuilt. I felt a visceral reaction coursing through my body as I stared into the screen watching the church burn. It was a physical manifestation of what I’ve felt for the last decade. Sounds horribly dramatic, doesn’t it?

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