I've done a lot of processing these past few days, and realize I had been thinking "before" that the memories of my rape must surely be horrible, why else would I have buried them so deep? But now I realize that what happened was beyond the comprehension of a nine year old child, so [the memories] were kept in storage until I was ready to deal with them. But having felt that wave of emotion on Friday and realizing I'm well acquainted with it, it now doesn't seem nearly so horrible as I thought it might be. I had only hoped I was ready before I saw June on Friday; now I know that I am, I trust myself enough to know that I am. This cocoon served to protect me all these years, but it has grown too constricting. I'm ready to break through and become the butterfly I know I am. I'm tired of being a caterpillar -- I'm ready to fly!