Six years ago today, I woke up in a hotel bed next to a man I’d never seen before. Nothing in my life has been the same since that moment. I lost the last half of my 30s to PTSD, and nearly lost my life, because of him.

Now I am lucky enough to be working to fix the system, trying to find ways to prevent others from getting away with what my attacker got away with (and continues to get away with). Selfishly, though, I wish I didn’t know this work needs doing - that I was not the one to do it.

That my life hadn’t changed so irrevocably on May 10, 2015. That I hadn’t become an expert in the ways that the criminal justice system fails victims.

We all mark the big anniversaries of our lives in different ways. I’m still not sure quite how to mark this one when it comes every year, reminding me of the life that changed that day and all that I lost because of it.

Maybe one day, I’ll figure it out.