“My name is Xiomara, I am 20 years old, and this is the story of how I came back to life.

It is a story of healing, of rebuilding myself from the ruins of pain, of finding my way back to who I am after years of silence. It is the story of a girl who was broken many times, but who learned to rise, to speak her truth, and to embrace her life with strength and dignity.

Today, I walk with purpose, on my own path, with the conviction that my voice can be a light for others. I want to be a guide, a leader, and a helping hand for those who are also searching for healing. 

To understand that journey, we have to go back to the beginning to a childhood shaped by work, silence, and small escapes into happiness.”

 Xiomara was born into a large, farming family in rural Peru, with humble parents who were always present for her and her siblings. 

Life on a farm wasn’t easy, though. It was marked by hard work from a very young age, with the expectation that she was building skills to increase her marriage prospects. 

So she would find her moments of escape in stories and movies of princesses in faraway, magical lands. It was in these stories that she found a safe haven—a place she was free to dream of a better life for herself. 

In that better life, she dreamed of being someone who gave people community and comfort through cooking. Someone who healed hearts and souls with food.
 

Little did Xiomara know that those dreams would become her lifeline during the darkest years of her life. 

When she was only eight years old, a distant uncle sexually abused her. It happened over and over again, every time he came to stay at her house. 

She was so afraid of him and of what might happen if she spoke up, so for years, she stayed quiet. 

Yet when someone else in her community attempted to abuse her too, “something inside me broke and was freed at the same time. I was no longer the girl who stayed quiet.”
 

She spoke up to her parents about the attempted abuse, and eventually, the original perpetrator’s abuse, too. Her parents confronted him and kicked him out of the house. 

But because they didn’t report the abuse to the police, the perpetrator remained in town. Xiomara never felt truly safe. 

In Peru, fewer than one in ten women report violence to police. They look at a broken, overwhelmed court system and think, ‘What hope do I have of finding justice?’ Not only that, but so many of them and their families are trapped between fear of further abuse and cultural teachings of respect and obedience. 

So, she filed the complaint herself. And despite the skepticism she faced from the police, despite the pain it caused her family… 

She decided to be her own protector. 

Because she knew that she was worth it. “I kept going,” she remembers. “Because something deep inside told me this was not the end.” 

And she knew her dreams were worth it, too! “When I finally enrolled in the culinary academy, I felt a joy I had not felt in a long time. Every recipe, every technique made me feel alive.”
 

 

Yet the same weekend she enrolled, she was hospitalized. After the years of sexual abuse, her body began to shut down. She was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré syndrome—a condition where the immune system attacks nerves and muscles, causing severe numbness and weakness. 

“That broke me,” she remembers. “Because cooking was not just a dream, it was my refuge. I felt frustrated. But something inside me refused to give up.”

It was that same protective spirit as before—the one that knew she and her dreams were worth fighting for. And that all the other girls and women like her were worth fighting for, too: 

“Little by little, I’ve regained strength,” she reflects today. “Now, I can cut with more confidence. And even if it seems like a small thing, to me it is a huge victory. A sign that I am still here. That I am still moving forward. 

I am learning, growing, and slowly becoming a leader who speaks not only for herself, but also for those who are still finding their voice. And I am not alone, there are many of us walking this path together, with courage, faith, and the hope of real change.”
 

With your help, change doesn’t just have to be a hope. It can be a reality. Would you consider giving today so that more survivors of sexual violence like Xiomara can find their voices, heal from trauma, rebuild their lives and protect others?

We’ll use your generosity to help provide trauma-informed therapy and story-sharing training to survivors; to train judges and prosecutors to handle cases with dignity instead of blame; fund survivor-led community advocacy that protects entire neighbourhoods; and to support business startup costs, helping women gain independence.
 

Then, because you’re by our side, we’ll see more survivors than ever before become the fiercest protectors—and dreamers who rise again.