My nephew, David, who was more like my brother because of our closeness in age, just passed away. He had a stroke in 2012 which left him partially paralyzed. It also reduced his cognitive abilities to that of an 8 year old. I was his caregiver on three separate occasions, and never having a kid, I was unprepared to know how to change a grown man’s diapers, or how to push a wheelchair with a man who was more than twice my size.

Our family was a dysfunctional mess. David and I had each other. Or, it can best be said: David had me. If he had a problem, he knew there was one person he could call. I was happy to be that person for him, and in this way we, together, were the family neither one of us had.

My older sister, the one who trafficked me is his mother. She did not tell me the news. I heard this from another family member. And, even in death his mother, my sister, refuses to have a memorial for him or even a funeral. Further, she made it clear to the few people she told, that no one should tell me: her younger sister who she sold into sexual slavery decades ago.

Ghislaine Maxwell reminds me of her in many ways: the self-absorbed victim. A person with absolutely no remorse. And someone with a vile heart and an unkind word about everyone.

The venom with which she lived her life spilled over into her son. David had issues and, of course, it was a direct result of the abusive relationship he had with his mother. Abuse that made him overeat in order to fill the void where the love of his mother should have been.

He had one health issue after another for the better part of his adult life.

Trauma does this to many people.

However, he also channeled all his energy into doing what he loved to do. His music. And he became legendary. It was David who introduced Tiesto to the music scene in the United States. David’s friends and fans have been paying tribute to him since I told them yesterday and it is incredibly heartwarming to see how he was able to help others by doing the thing he loved the most.

I have dedicated over one year to trying to help the victims of Jeffrey Epstein, Ghislaine Maxwell and Leslie Wexner. I have written a couple of books on the subject. I have advocated in various ways. I have done this because when someone survives abuse of any kind, helping others becomes a way of life. Once I no longer had to physically care for my nephew, David, that energy needed to go elsewhere.

It is why I am here. Because of David. Because of me. To continue the healing process for the two of us.

When I heard the news yesterday, I was told that my older sister said some very kind things about David. My response was “Why didn’t she tell him?” The woman who told him she was sorry she didn’t get an abortion when pregnant with him waited until after he was dead to say he was loved by her.

Inherently I know, she too, was abused and it is clear she never became a survivor and remained a victim throughout her life. The pain she harbored she passed on in hatred to her only son.

Know this: If you are a victim and have not found your way to survival and to the other side of the pain: it is within your capabilities to do so. I did it. And, David, through his music did this on his own terms.

Surviving means allowing yourself to be vulnerable to loving either another person or a cause unconditionally. Without reservation. Without hesitation. It means being able to say to those you care about: I love you.

David, I love you. I will always love you.

Kirby

P.S. The above are words I jotted down as I tried to anchor myself to a world without David. He is no longer suffering and for that I am grateful.