It was our, all of our first times being in Boston. And first time being at Boston Marathon, which was a very happy, electrifying, loving day. The energy in the city was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It just was so happy and turned so horrible in a split second.
I didn’t actually hear the bomb go off. And we think that it was because my eardrums were blown out instantly. I remember, kind of, this whomping noise and smoke and flashes of yellow and orange and falling backwards slowly. Then I blacked out for a few seconds.
I started to feel myself slipping. And I touched down at my legs because I wanted to understand what was going on. And I reached down to my left leg and I just felt flesh. And it was warm. And I pulled my hand up and it was covered in blood. So I knew that something was really bad.
I was definitely angry. I didn’t understand why it had happened, why they picked such a happy day. It had altered my life so much so quickly. Like, within a second my life changed in a way that I never thought it would. I can’t run after kids. I can’t be the teacher that I was before.
And I think that’s the hardest thing for me—is deciding to let go of that path that I had chosen for myself. I think for people that are thinking about doing something like this, I would ask them to really think of why they’re doing it.
And why they’re so angry. And are they directing it at the people that they’re angry at. And is there a better way for them to handle it. They didn’t win. I mean, they ultimately ended up making people stronger from it. I’ve never wanted to be called a victim. That gives the people who did it too much power and credit.
I have survived this. And I’m always going to be a survivor. I’ve grown from it. I’m not angry anymore. I appreciate my life more. I appreciate my family and my friends. I’ve become closer to the students that I taught. It’s just made me a better version of myself. And I’m more confident in my abilities to do things.