Dentists need to know that my mouth tells a story. The story of my life. The story of me. Dentists need to know that my mouth can’t tell this story with words, as they are trapped in my heart and stuck in my throat. Words choke me. My mouth wants to tell you but it can’t. 

"No, that was not my sister musician, poet, artist, dancer, sensitive, lovely, loving girl..." Guest blog by a survivor of CSA