I am a black woman from the Brazilian Cerrado. That says a lot about the construction of who I am and my history. When I was a teenager, I was in an abusive relationship where I suffered different types of violence. At that time, the Maria da Penha Law didn't exist yet, so there was no report made. Nonetheless, it left a mark on me, and only after a few years did I realize how much it affected me emotionally.

Years after that experience, I accessed the Maria da Penha Law during its implementation process in Goiânia. Inexperienced, I didn't know what it would be like to make a formal complaint, but I believed at that moment that it was the safest path. I was being stalked and threatened. The aggressor would patrol around my house, university, and other public places I frequented. I was very afraid of what could happen if I didn't take any action. When I went to the Women's Police Station, I expected a more welcoming treatment that wouldn't make me feel guilty for the situation once again. At that time, I felt very vulnerable because I didn't know how to fully recognize and name the situations of violence. This fear lasted for a long time. After the complaint, I never saw him again.

Even though I have questions about the functionality of the law, I am always encouraging reporting because I believe that reporting and activism are important means to document and support women in different contexts of violence. It is a resource we have, and we should always discuss its applicability. As a public school teacher, I have made numerous reports when my students shared with me that they were experiencing extremely serious abuses. This involvement has led me to understand today how much my professional work and the stories of these girls from the schools I've been to, still intersect with my own. Together, we create support and protection networks, even in the face of significant silencing.

A large part of my experiences with violence is documented in diaries I have written and kept since I was 15 years old. I have always enjoyed writing; it is how I breathe. Today, I recognize myself as a writer, researcher, and doctoral student in Cultural Performances. I define myself as an "artivist," a lesbian, and a mother. I am at a moment of looking at myself, at my entire history through writing and the poetics of existence. There are countless possibilities, and it is those possibilities that keep me alive.

*This was written based on the story of Daya Gomes.