How Elizabeth Smart founded the Elizabeth Smart Foundation: And changed the way survivors are seen.

• Author: Smart, Elizabeth
• Position: FOUNDER SERIES

MY WHOLE LIFE has prepared me for the work I'm doing today. One day, just over 20 years ago, I was kidnapped from my bedroom by a strange man with a knife. Brian David Mitchell, with the help of his wife, Wanda Barzee, held me hostage, and I faced repeated horrors as their captive. They kept me incredibly isolated and made me feel worthless. The threat of my death and the death of my loved ones hung over my head daily, and sexual assault and rape were a constant part of my life.

Nine months later, a bystander saw me walking with Mitchell and Barzee on State Street in Sandy, Utah. They recognized something about the situation and called the police. On one of the most joyous days of my entire life, Mitchell and Barzee were arrested, and I was reunited with my family.

When I came home, all I wanted was to be a normal 15-year-old girl. I wanted to go to high school, hang out with my friends, ride horses, and play the harp. A thrilling existence, I know. But at the time, I felt like I had encountered enough public attention to last a lifetime.

It was a few years before I used my unwanted notoriety to advocate for change in legislation. In 2006, my father, Ed Smart, and I went to Washington DC to speak before Congress about the Adam Walsh Child Protection and Safety Act, which toughened restrictions on sex offenders and increased measures to protect children. I worked with politicians for the first time, and I even met the president.

At the time, it was very overwhelming to step back into the spotlight--which I had tried so hard to avoid. However, it felt worth it to make a difference! I continued to advocate for changes that felt right, like the Amber Alert, and connected with other survivors through the Department of Justice. In 2010,1 took the stand against Brian David Mitchell. I finally appreciated the impact that my story and my voice could have when Mitchell was sentenced to life in prison.

Eventually, I wanted to begin speaking out more, and I was often invited to events to share my perspective. At these events, something kept happening to me over and over and over--people, mostly women, would approach me and share their experiences with abuse and sexual violence. Often, they would tell me that I was the first person they had ever told because no one else would believe them. They said that they felt totally alone, and I completely understood!

I didn't want to talk about what happened to me when I came home. Like I said, I wanted to move...