Some life experiences change you so deeply that going back to who you were before is simply not possible. For survivors of trauma, especially those who’ve experienced violence, harassment, or assault, healing is not just about moving on—it’s about finding ways to live meaningfully with the scars left behind.
One powerful way survivors reclaim their narrative is by stepping into advocacy roles. They become the voices they once needed, fighting for others who are now going through what they themselves endured. This transformation—from victim to advocate—is both deeply personal and socially important.
In the novel Slayed by L’Mireille, the character Sienna embodies this journey. After surviving a traumatic assault during her college years, she later builds a career where she advocates for others. As a Title IX administrator at a Historically Black College and University (HBCU), Sienna spends her days investigating incidents of sexual harassment and assault, educating students about consent, and working on prevention programs designed to make campus environments safer.
For many readers, Sienna’s professional role is more than just a job title. It’s a reflection of a real-world network of people who carry out similar work every day. Title IX coordinators, like Sienna, play a critical role on college campuses. While Title IX is often associated with gender equity in sports, its reach goes far beyond athletics. Title IX protects students from discrimination based on sex in all educational programs and activities receiving federal funding—including addressing issues like sexual harassment and assault.
The work isn’t easy. Title IX administrators often balance multiple responsibilities: offering support to survivors, ensuring fair investigations, educating the campus community, and navigating institutional politics. They must remain impartial, professional, and trauma-informed, all while often being under-staffed and overworked.
What makes Sienna’s story in Slayed by L’Mireille particularly compelling is how personal her mission is. Although fictional, her character reflects the very real emotional labor many advocates carry. It’s one thing to help someone through a difficult time; it’s another to sit with them in their pain when it echoes your own. For survivor-advocates, every case can stir buried memories. But instead of being paralyzed by the past, they channel that experience into empathy-driven action.
Survivor-advocates often bring unique strengths to their roles:
- Deep Empathy: They truly understand the fear, confusion, and emotional aftermath survivors experience.
- Unwavering Commitment: Their personal connection fuels a dedication to push through even when the work feels thankless.
- Credibility: Students and colleagues often trust them more, knowing they’ve “been there.”
But this path isn’t without its challenges. Constant exposure to others’ trauma can trigger their own. Compassion fatigue and secondary trauma are real risks. That’s why self-care, supervision, and ongoing professional development are essential parts of advocacy work.
Healing while helping others is a delicate balance. Advocates must find ways to process their own experiences while holding space for others. This might mean seeking therapy, participating in support groups, or creating strict boundaries between work and personal life. For some, like Sienna, humor and friendship become lifelines. Having trusted confidants to vent to after a hard day can make all the difference.
Books like Slayed by L’Mireille help shine a light on this often-overlooked world of campus advocacy. They also open up important conversations about what it means to truly support survivors—not just in moments of crisis but in the months and years that follow. Representation of survivor-advocates in fiction gives real-life professionals validation and gives readers insight into the complexities of this emotional, necessary work.
Ultimately, choosing to help others after surviving trauma is an act of courage. It’s about turning pain into purpose. It’s about showing the next survivor that they’re not alone—that someone out there understands, believes them, and will fight for their right to heal in safety and dignity. For anyone navigating personal healing or considering advocacy work, Sienna’s story serves as a reminder that while the journey may be difficult, it can also be incredibly meaningful.
