I still hold onto the knife that I was assaulted with back in YC120. It was left in my thigh after the attack. I’ve got a few scars from the event as well. I chose to keep them afterwards. One on my face, one on my shoulder, and of course, one on my thigh. At this point, it’s not the only very meaningful knife that I have, but it was the first.
Anyway, the knife is handmade. It’s beautiful, really. It’s got pearl scales on the grip and a water-pattern on the blade. These days, it serves as a reminder of both how vulnerable I can be as well as one of how far I’ve come.
The attack is at least partially responsible for who I am today. It played a part in making me into a stronger, better person. And honestly, at the time, I deserved it.