Breaking Free by Abby Sher

Author:Abby Sher [Sher, Abby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Nonfiction, Social Issues, Social Activists, Biography & Autobiography, Sexual Abuse, Women, True Crime
ISBN: 9781438004532
Google: qx_engEACAAJ
Publisher: Barron's
Published: 2014-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

“And so, I’ve super transformed my wardrobe because it was a lot about thinking my body, or my dress, caused what happened. And that’s a lot more palatable than to just think, no, actually somebody else just wants to hurt me.”

~ Minh Dang

Reclaiming Beauty

Minh’s favorite thing to wear in 1990: a soccer uniform, shin guards, and pigtails.

Why? The soccer field was the one place where Minh could be a kid. She could get muddy and sweaty, kick fiercely, and run full speed ahead. When she had her eye on the soccer ball, there was no fear or confusion holding her back. Minh was focused and powerful, and she knew she only had one thing to do—play.

Minh’s favorite thing to wear in 2005: baggy jeans, running shoes, and a dark hoodie (preferably two sizes too big so she could pull the hood over her eyes). This was what Minh wore almost every day through college. Even though she was reading, writing, and even organizing events about self-determination and social activism, Minh felt like she had to look as unnoticeable as possible. She wanted people to value her thoughts, not scope out her figure. She honestly didn’t know how her head and the rest of her body could one day fit together.

Minh’s favorite thing to wear in 2014: a coral-striped, strapless sundress, glittery hoop earrings, and a touch of mascara.

Who? Yes, Minh. The first time she tried on this outfit and looked in the mirror, she heard herself gasp. She felt hot.

Then she felt incredibly ashamed.

What if people thought she was trying to look hot? Would she be solicited on campus? Was she asking to be used and abused all along?

She pulled out the earrings and shoved the dress into her backpack, put her hoodie-jeans outfit on, and marched back to group therapy.

“I don’t want to fear my own reflection anymore!” she announced. “What happened to me has nothing to do with how I dress, right? It was not my fault!”

Her fellow survivors knew this anger and self-consciousness too well. It was hard for any of them to look in the mirror and enjoy the curve of their hips, or even the color of their eyes. “Not your fault,” they echoed. “Put that dress back on and enjoy what it feels like to be sexy!”

Minh started slowly substituting khaki skirts for her jeans. Then she switched out the dark hoodie with a teal half-sweater when she was feeling a little stronger. It was easier if she stepped back from her mirror and pretended she was dressing a mannequin. Some days, the rush of memories was too intense—her parents forcing her to wear see-through lingerie as she greeted another stranger at the brothel; the smell of her stockings as she peeled them off in the car.

Again, being in school helped a lot. On a practical level, Minh’s graduate program included advising students and presenting papers. She couldn’t exactly speak in front of classes and professors in baggy jeans and expect them to take her seriously.

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