Twenty-five years later, I remember watching the attacks from my home in New York—and the grieving families I met when I volunteered in the days that followed.

Twenty-five years later, I still think about the conference I was supposed to attend at the World Trade Center—and the postcard that changed where I went that morning.

Twenty-five years later, I remember learning about the attacks from Seattle—and realizing how differently they felt when New York was still home.

Thursday, September 10, 2026 marks the 33rd anniversary of the day that changed my life forever. It was a day that started out like every other and ended with me in a near-death experience. Luckily I survived a brutal attack, kidnapping, rape and gun violence, and am here all these many years later to talk about the impact of trauma on one’s mental health.

Looking back on that first year after the attack, I can see just how bitter I had become. After the initial heartbreak and devastation of facing permanent injury wore off, I was just angry. Angry that I would never have the athletic career I’d imagined. Angry that I’d never have the life I’d imagined.

My mom's union activism inspired a lifetime of supporting organized labor through stops at the Washington State Legislature; SEIU 775, United Way of Snohomish County and United Way Worldwide.

Surviving a traumatic event does not mean its effects simply disappear once the physical scars heal. Understanding and learning to live with the invisible scars—including PTSD, anxiety, disrupted sleep and grief—can take much longer.

I cringe when my memories come up daily and I look back at the things I said 17 years ago. Things captured forever that were obviously attention seeking, even if I didn’t know it or think it back then.

If this is what social media can feel like for a fairly educated, 53-year-old, mostly well-adjusted adult who has spent years working professionally with these platforms, what is it like for a teenager growing up with them?