Our Last Hello: A Story of Hope for Sexual Assault Survivor

10 hours ago
4 min read

This morning, I woke to a review of my latest novel, Our Last Hello, a dramatic story of second chances. It moved me deeply because of how clearly the reviewer connected with Ramie’s journey:

"Ramie’s journey, in particular, adds depth to the story. Her movement from innocence to experience, from dependence to a form of quiet resilience, gives the book emotional grounding. The moments of hardship, especially those tied to violence and loss, are handled with care and add gravity without overwhelming the narrative."

Seeing that a reader understood my intention meant the world to me. In my writing, I never go "too dark." Even when the subject demands it, I choose not to linger in the shadows. It isn’t a place I want to go, nor a place I want my readers to be trapped in. I believe you can make a point without causing unnecessary turmoil—especially since this topic is incredibly triggering for so many.

The Reality We Carry

Reflection feels especially poignant right now, as April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. But this year feels heavier. With the ongoing release of the Epstein files, many women are finding themselves in a state of heightened fear and deep-seated distrust.

I’ve spoken to so many friends recently who are struggling. Some say that if their spouse were to pass away, they would never marry again—the risk of trusting another man feels too great. Others find themselves unable to trust male doctors or any male authority figure.

If you feel this way, please know: It is not an overreaction. It is a survival instinct. While many husbands or boyfriends may not "get it" because they haven't lived it, that doesn't make your fear any less valid.

I understand that reservation well because I have been there. Many times. In my early twenties, I was working at a car dealership. During a Christmas party, a salesman pushed me against the wall of a back office, then started pawing and kissing me. I struggled, attempting to push his 6-foot-plus frame off of me, telling him to stop.

Thankfully, another salesman heard me. He grabbed the man and pulled him away. As he was being pulled off, the guy started yelling at me: "You should be thrilled you're attractive enough to get men's attention! You could be a dog!"

What a lie he tried to instill in me. At the time, I didn't even think of myself as attractive, but it took years to realize that it doesn't matter what a woman looks like. Thin, overweight, old, young, brunette, or blonde—it isn’t about appearance. It is about control.

We must remind ourselves that while the headlines are full of monsters, not all men want to harm us. There are men—like the one who pulled that salesman off me, who possess the instinct to know how wrong it is to treat another human being as less than human.

The Numbers Behind the Silence

The statistics remain a sobering reminder of why that fear exists.

1 in 3 women has experienced sexual violence.
1 in 10 children will be sexually abused before their 18th birthday.
80% of students in middle and high schools report experiencing sexual harassment in school.
Nearly half of women in the U.S. have experienced contact sexual violence in their lifetime.
1 in 4 undergraduate women are survivors.
Every 68 seconds, another American is assaulted.

A Moment of Hope

A couple of months ago, I was walking with my young adult son past the local high school. We saw a couple of boys who looked like typical students, likely more interested in gaming than anything else. But as we passed, one of them said:

"I've been using her for like two weeks, and she doesn't even know it." They both started laughing.

It took everything in me not to walk up to that boy and give him a piece of my mind. My son heard them, too, and I could see the same anger in him. In that moment, my frustration turned to love. I realized my boy would never treat a woman that way.

We need the voices and respect of young men like him. Young women today deserve safe partners—if they choose to have them and the knowledge that there are men who will stand with them, not against them.

A Gift for You

Ramie, my protagonist, had to maneuver through her storm alone, as so many women feel they must . . . and do. While you learn to accept that it happened, that it wasn’t your fault and you didn’t deserve that anger forced upon you—the memory never truly leaves.

In honor of this April and Ramie, I am offering Our Last Hello for free today.

To those who have been through this: Please, don’t carry it alone. Find at least one trusted person to share your story with, whether it happened thirty years ago or yesterday. He chiseled away a huge chunk of who you were; don't let him take more of your life by burrowing into your body and mind any longer and filling you with unspoken distrust, anger, or shame.

Take heart in knowing that I believe you. And you are not alone. <3

And to the women out there who have not had a man's anger and insecurity harm them physically: my heart truly lights up to know you have gone unscathed. <3

With love always,

Monique