If they knew I had been sexually abused, if they knew my secret, they would think differently of me. I'll go through life wearing this mask that I believe is one that is acceptable. People will never know it's not the real me. Yet my life is not real. I don't know real love, for others or for myself. There has to be more to life on earth. I must tell, I must be real about who I am, with those I love and especially myself. If I don't, it will surely be the death of me. The stress, the inner turmoil, the need to be someone I'm not is too difficult to live with any longer. I must come clean. I must get real in order to have a real life. And so, I did. This is my story.... | My Tears Were for Her by Janet M Little, Paperback | Indigo Chapters