Seasons of Change, Part I: The Shattering
The Moment Everything Changed (2018-2020)
Life has a way of stripping us down to the raw truth. Some moments don’t just leave a mark; they divide your life into “before” and “after.” December 2018 was that line in the sand for me. It was the moment when my role as a mother transformed forever: from nurturing and guiding to fiercely protecting and relentlessly advocating.
This season wasn’t pretty or poetic. It was brutal, disorienting, and isolating. But it was also the season that awakened a kind of courage I didn’t know I had - the kind that doesn’t wait for permission.
It’s the kind of courage it takes to have once been a victim of sexual violence yourself, and still fight like no one ever did for you.
December 2018: The Shattering
In December 2018, one of my daughters was sexually assaulted at daycare on a military installation — shortly after I’d returned to working in person.
There are no words that can fully capture what that moment did to me as a mother. And it didn’t happen all at once; it happened in devastating phases:
Phase 1: An anonymous Facebook message. A gut punch. The realization that something was happening where I’d trusted my child would be safe.
Phase 2: That gnawing instinct that something was off. Watching closely, dissecting every detail, desperate for clues that would reveal the what changed.
Phase 3: The night everything cracked open. Standing in a hospital, alone, holding one of the most precious beings you’ve ever been entrusted with — your child — and trying to explain the chaos you’d been witnessing to strangers.
Phase 4: Speaking with police and a sexual assault victim’s advocate. Then, watching your child be examined, knowing nothing would ever be the same.
Phase 5: Walking out past the labor and delivery rooms where you’d once brought her into the world, now holding a manila envelope containing a few sheets of paper. The words burned into your mind:
“Sexual assault by bodily force by caregiver.”
That night shattered trust, safety, and my belief that childhood — or even our military community — was untouchable in that way.
That day drew a hard, irreversible line. From that point on, my responsibility wasn’t just to love and raise my children. It was to protect them, speak up, and fight for truth — even when those closest to me, and the world itself, preferred my silence.
The Aftermath: Isolation and Relentless Advocacy
What followed was relentless. In the 18 months after the assault, we moved three times — searching for therapy and stability while carrying the invisible weight of trauma with us.
I found myself in battles I never imagined: not only with the systems that were supposed to protect my child, but also with the silence and discomfort of people who wished I’d keep my head down.
But I didn’t. I spoke up. I pressed forward.
I took the fight all the way to the Pentagon — demanding better care, justice, acknowledgment, and protection. I fought for 16 separate policy changes to strengthen how the military responds to child sexual assault. I refused to let my daughter’s trauma remain a dark secret.
In front of more than 700 senior leaders at a Pentagon Resiliency Summit, I told the truth out loud. I shined a light into a space where silence had thrived for too long.
The fight was exhausting. It was isolating. But it was also the season that sharpened me into a mother who would no longer ask for permission to protect her child.
The Awakening: Courage Without Permission
In those years, I learned that courage doesn’t wait for approval. It rises in the middle of fear and keeps moving forward even when there’s no guarantee of the outcome.
This season fundamentally reshaped me — as a woman, a mother, a wife at the time, and an advocate.
By mid-2020, after settling in a town I never thought I’d return to, my daughter finally began to heal through four separate therapies each week. It wasn’t a fairytale ending; it was a hard-won turning point.
I had pushed for change while walking through hell, fully aware my daughter would never get justice because of the way the military handled her case. That season of healing was slow, deliberate, and steady — a quiet victory born from refusing to back down.
It was a brutal season, but it forged the foundation for everything that came next.
Next in the series: Part II – Another Blow (2022)
