She learns early that attention can feel dangerous.
As a child, she hides between stacks of plastic chairs while a trusted adult studies her too closely. In church basements and school hallways, bedrooms and computer labs, she grows up carrying sensations she cannot yet name: hypervigilance, shame, longing, dissociation, desire. The world teaches her to confuse being wanted with being unsafe, silence with maturity, survival with weakness.
Told through vivid sensory memory and lyrical prose, this memoir traces one girl's passage through grooming, coercion, queer longing, self-destruction, and the slow, uneven work of remaining alive afterward. Rather than offering easy redemption, it examines how trauma settles into the body; how intimacy can become entangled with fear; and how healing often arrives not dramatically, but through ordinary moments of persistence.
At once brutal and tender, intimate and unsparing, Body My Body is a story about survival, visibility, and learning, at last, to belong to oneself.
