What happens when the body remembers what the mind wishes to forget? Not the body you present to the world, polished and curated for public consumption. Not the body you see in the mirror, a landscape of perceived flaws and relentless self-judgment. As Bessel van der Kolk’s research has shown us, I’m talking about the body that remembers. The body that holds the score. The body that became a battleground, a territory of violation and shame, when sexuality was weaponized against you. When sexual trauma hits, it’s not just a memory in the mind; it’s a cataclysm in the cells. It’s a fragmentation of the self, a violent severing of the sacred union between soul and flesh. Your body, which was once a source of pleasure, curiosity, and connection, becomes a source of terror. A haunted house. A place you no longer recognize as your own. You learn to dissociate, to float somewhere above your shoulders, because being fully present in your skin is simply too agonizing. The body becomes a "thing" to be managed, disciplined, and above all, silenced. Its language of sensation, desire, and intuition is muted, replaced by the static of fear and hypervigilance. This is not