
“I wish you would open up, Krystina.” I hear it a lot.From family. From friends. From strangers who follow my story online.But what they don’t understand is…this guard I carry wasn’t built…it grew. It grew from everything I’ve survived.It’s not a wall I consciously put up.It’s muscle memory.It’s my default setting.It’s the way I…

When I tell people what happened to me,I always pause when I see the look on their face. That wide-eyed shock.That “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”The disbelief.The pity. But what they don’t know….what they could never guess….is that the most traumatizing part of my storydidn’t happen in the car.Or the hospital.Or even the…