I Will Not Be Made Invisible

A majestic tiger stares intently, its vibrant eyes and bold stripes creating a striking contrast against the earthy background.

There was a time when my Command Master Chief looked at me and said, “You’re a Tiger.”

She saw something in me before I fully knew how to name it myself — not aggression, not defiance, but instinct, survival, and truth. She didn’t try to break it. She respected it. She also stood beside me during one of the hardest seasons of my life and supported me as I chose sobriety. That kind of seeing changes a person.

Years later, at Artemis Rising at Boulder Crest Retreat Center, I was given another name: Honey Badger. Not because I seek conflict — but because I do not tolerate harm, erasure, or bullshit.

I served my country. I also kept a journal while I was in the Navy — a private record of what I lived, what I witnessed, and what was done to me. Years later, I published that journal so my story would exist outside of silence. So the truth wouldn’t disappear just because it made people uncomfortable.

There came a point when symbols no longer felt honest. I sent my military service medals and ribbons back to Congresswoman Jackie Speier, because I needed someone in power to understand the cost of Military Sexual Trauma. When senators remained silent — not just to me, but to countless survivors — I took what remained of my military materials to Senator Thom Tillis’ office. That wasn’t a stunt. It was a refusal to stay invisible.

It has taken years of therapy for me to reclaim even a small sense of pride in my Navy service — to hold both truths at once: that I served honorably, and that I was deeply harmed by the system I trusted. That recovery has not been linear. It has been fragile and hard-won.

And then one careless comment — from my own uncle — reducing women veterans to “woke” or “DEI hires” was enough to shatter that fragile ground again. In that moment, I threw away my Navy belongings once more. Because Military Sexual Trauma doesn’t live in the past. It lives in the body. In the nervous system. In memory.

MST affects everything:

My body.

My mind.

My spirit.

My emotions.

I live with autoimmune disease. I live with chronic pain .I live with Complex Post Traumatic Stress.

My body will not allow me to tolerate abuse anymore. My body will not allow me to absorb disrespect — even from family. My nervous system does not negotiate with harm.

I am tired of being invisible. I am tired of women veterans being reduced, dismissed, or rewritten to protect other people’s comfort .I am tired of service being honored only when it fits someone else’s narrow image.

No one gets to diminish my Navy service.

No one gets to erase what happened to me.

No one gets to decide whether my story counts.

Tiger.

Honey Badger.

Both names mean the same thing now:

I survived. I told the truth. And I will not disappear to make others feel better.