Startled by the knock at the door, fear gripped the pit of my stomach. Looking through the peep- hole, I felt surprise and petrifying fear at seeing the police officer and a neighbor. What could I have done why would they be here? Had I done something wrong? Was the secret no longer known only to my two younger sisters and myself? This visit by the police officer was the first, but not the last time I remember being referred to as the "victim." This label followed me from childhood through adulthood. According to Webster's Dictionary, "victim" means someone harmed by circumstance or condition or a person who is harmed or killed by another. I view this worn-out label as a brand that marks a person, like a holocaust survivor's tattoo. "Victim" implies someone is weak and has no control, whereas "survivor" identifies a person as resilient and has power. .
At an early age I rebelled against those in authority labeling me as a victim. The rebellion stemmed from the implication that I had no control. I envisioned taking control over every aspect of my life. Each time I heard the word "victim" in reference to myself, my dream slipped further away. Being "victimized" left me feeling defenseless in a world filled with adversaries. As a result I pulled away from everyone, never forgetting the despair and misery forced upon me. I was determined acquire independence, regardless of my age or size. No matter how independent I become; however, there will remain that memory of hearing the police officer describe me as a victim. I think back to how my eyes filled with enormous, fear tinged tears, as I quietly opened the door. "Sweetie, don't cry. Where is your Mommy? Are you alone here? Are you hungry or hurt?" he asked. I could not answer his questions out of fear of exposing my deepest secret. As I listened to the strange man, my two younger sisters came out from the hiding place somehow knowing something was terribly wrong.
