The Night That Changed Everything: The Moment I Knew I’d Never Be the Same

I joined the Army with a proud heart and a will to serve my country. Like so many, I believed in the values of duty, honor, and loyalty. I trusted the other troops. I trusted the system. But there was one night that shattered all that—a night that changed everything forever.

It started the way many nights start in the military: comfortable, routine, with people I worked alongside on a daily basis. I never imagined a place I felt safe would be the site of my nightmare. That night, though, in a matter of minutes, everything I held true as it pertains to trust, safety, and brotherhood was broken.

I was assaulted by a superior officer—one who had the same uniform, someone who was my backup. The betrayal smacked me hard and hit me deeply. I still recall the sensation of shock, of disbelief, with my mind spinning in an effort to try and grasp what happened. Terror moved in. I was numb, my world broken apart in a heartbeat.

The subsequent days and weeks became a haze of agony and disorientation. I mustered all the courage I could and reported the assault, holding on to the hope that my command would intervene, investigate, and administer justice. But rather than receiving help, I encountered silence. I had to deal with skepticism and subtle retaliation. Gossip behind my back. Icy stares from individuals who were once my friends. The more I tried fighting to receive help, the more isolated I became.

It wasn't the attack itself that broke me—it was how they responded to it. Or, rather, how they didn't respond at all. I had been taught to believe that the Army was a family and that we all looked out for each other, no matter what. But in my time of need, that family turned its back on me. The pain was profound, and I came to understand quickly that the greatest battle lay before me.

This night—the night that destroyed everything—was the start of a soul-shattering experience. My professional life was destroyed, my mental well-being was battered, and my faith in the institution that I dedicated my life to was shattered. I battled with shame, rage, and heartache. I doubted my self-worth, my mission, and my place in this world.

But as shattered as I was, I would not be silenced. I would not let my story cease.

I wrote. I protested. I contacted other survivors—women and men who had suffered the same horrors and felt the same sense of betrayal. We drew strength from our common pain and found resilience in our common fight for justice. My book, Secrets of the Uniform, is the result of that struggle. It's my coming out of the darkness, my voice of accountability, and my advocacy for every military member who ever felt alone in their suffering.

That night changed my life. It altered the path of my life in ways I never even imagined. But it also fueled a fire in me—a fire that continues to burn today, fueled by hope that one day, no soldier will ever have to endure what I endured. One day, the military will hold the values that it teaches in high regard and care for their own.