Theft of Words and the Nose

...plus a very personal story of victory

This story is about the theft of words. It is a little haphazard since my life is all over the place (and I am working on a story that feels like a tremendously big deal) but the theft of words is also important—so here are a few thoughts.

I’ll start with a striking example. That time in my life when I was attacked by a sex trafficker in China, there was a particular moment when the guy who was about to attack me turned to me, as we were walking, and said in English, “I love you.”

That moment was preceded by a sequence of events that were non-violent but increasingly weird. I thought I was getting help from a spekulyant with buying a train ticket, I felt no fear even as things were getting weirder and weirder, and then suddenly, he and I  were in the middle of nowhere.  A corn field, big butterflies, sun, blue sky. We were walking on a narrow path in the field. He said he was tied of walking and wanted to rest for a second, then he said that phrase, got me flat on the ground, and got hi…