Hope.
That's what I'm holding into. Hope. Hope that I wont always feel like a blurred outline of a girl who lost control of her body.
**TRIGGER WARNING**
Last month I was sexually assaulted by a boy I was seeing (who I also worked with). At first I was hesitant to hang out with him, because at work he would say things like "If a girl doesn't put out by the second date, she isn't worth it" and things like "if I were a girl, I'd sell my body to make money". Those were obvious red flags that I chose to look past because I wanted to feel like a normal 18 year old. I wanted to go out on dates and experience life like girls my age, who haven't been through what I have. That was my first mistake. The second was thinking I could ever be normal. Third mistake was continuing to hangout with him; to trust that he wasn't like every other man I had encountered. One night we were playing a video game. It was a Marvel game where you basically just battled each other. He won and he said "I just raped you". (Note that he has been on my website and knows about my past) I said "What? What did you just say?" "Oh, I'm sorry" he said. That should have been the last straw. That was the biggest red flag that I chose to overlook. I wanted so badly to believe that he was different, that he would be careful knowing that I am a bit fragile, when it comes to relationships. He wasn't different. He was ignorant and only thinking about himself. He was selfish. He chose to over look the obvious signs I put out telling him I was uncomfortable. He would pull my shirt up and id pull it down. He would pull it up again. At one point he was kissing my stomach and going just a bit too far down. I grabbed his head and shook mine "no". I pulled my shirt down, he pulled it up. Again he made his way down my stomach towards my hips then lower, I grabbed his face and shook my head "no". He said "no downstairs kisses?" I said no. Things just kept escalating. I didn't want to be intimate with him and I felt like I made that clear, very clear.... But, I guess he didn't think the same. We laid down on his couch (for the first time, every other time he tried to get me to lay down, I refused), and I kind of froze and let the control I had, leave my body. He took my hand, guided it and used it as he pleased. I was scared to refuse anymore than I already had. All I kept thinking was "God, this is it, this is happening. I cant stop him. I don't want this, please". After I was able to remove my hand from is penis, I held my hand as close to me as possible and pretended to fall asleep, so he would just leave me alone. But, I couldn't stop shaking... "You're shaking" he said. "I'm cold". As he drove me home that night, I held his hand and even told him I had a good time. But, I was crumbling inside. I was having flashbacks as he touched me. When I got home I went to my room and cried and cried and cried. I wanted to rip myself apart. I felt dirty and I couldn't get his 'moan' out of my head. I couldn't get the taste of him out of my mouth. I was disgusted with myself... When I confronted him about it he said he was sorry and that he "didn't pick up on my signs".
Three weeks later I have fallen to my knees in tears praying that the feelings of his hands and the taste of him, would be erased from my memory.. From my body. And I just realized praying for something like that is sort of crazy. I have to talk about it. This wont just go away. I have to deal with it. I have to feel what I feel. I have gotten back into therapy to help me process this event and move on. Before yesterday I thought I was kind of ruined. I thought I would have to start recovery all over again. But, after talking with my therapist and my best friend, I realized that I am handling this A LOT better than I would have if this would've happened a year ago or even months ago.
I realized that I AM stronger than this darkness. I realized I CAN get through this. And I WILL.
I no longer need to HOPE that I will get through this. I KNOW I will. I KNOW I wont always feel like a blurred outline of a girl who lost control of her body. I'm in control. Not these things that are trying to tear me to pieces.
Hold.On.Pain.Ends
Hope.
This is scary, really scary. I wanted to go back to every unhealthy coping skill I have. I wanted the comfort of anorexia, I wanted to cut my own skin off. I wanted to shut the world out and just sleep, sleep forever. I will admit I gave into some of those temptations, but I have quickly pulled myself out of that. I don't deserve to harm myself because someone else harmed me. That isn't logical.
I am strong. I will get through this. This is one more reason for me to keep standing against sexual violence.
I will NOT let this hold me down.
Boy, you have lost. I am winning. I have won.
I Belong To Me.
That's what I'm holding into. Hope. Hope that I wont always feel like a blurred outline of a girl who lost control of her body.
**TRIGGER WARNING**
Last month I was sexually assaulted by a boy I was seeing (who I also worked with). At first I was hesitant to hang out with him, because at work he would say things like "If a girl doesn't put out by the second date, she isn't worth it" and things like "if I were a girl, I'd sell my body to make money". Those were obvious red flags that I chose to look past because I wanted to feel like a normal 18 year old. I wanted to go out on dates and experience life like girls my age, who haven't been through what I have. That was my first mistake. The second was thinking I could ever be normal. Third mistake was continuing to hangout with him; to trust that he wasn't like every other man I had encountered. One night we were playing a video game. It was a Marvel game where you basically just battled each other. He won and he said "I just raped you". (Note that he has been on my website and knows about my past) I said "What? What did you just say?" "Oh, I'm sorry" he said. That should have been the last straw. That was the biggest red flag that I chose to overlook. I wanted so badly to believe that he was different, that he would be careful knowing that I am a bit fragile, when it comes to relationships. He wasn't different. He was ignorant and only thinking about himself. He was selfish. He chose to over look the obvious signs I put out telling him I was uncomfortable. He would pull my shirt up and id pull it down. He would pull it up again. At one point he was kissing my stomach and going just a bit too far down. I grabbed his head and shook mine "no". I pulled my shirt down, he pulled it up. Again he made his way down my stomach towards my hips then lower, I grabbed his face and shook my head "no". He said "no downstairs kisses?" I said no. Things just kept escalating. I didn't want to be intimate with him and I felt like I made that clear, very clear.... But, I guess he didn't think the same. We laid down on his couch (for the first time, every other time he tried to get me to lay down, I refused), and I kind of froze and let the control I had, leave my body. He took my hand, guided it and used it as he pleased. I was scared to refuse anymore than I already had. All I kept thinking was "God, this is it, this is happening. I cant stop him. I don't want this, please". After I was able to remove my hand from is penis, I held my hand as close to me as possible and pretended to fall asleep, so he would just leave me alone. But, I couldn't stop shaking... "You're shaking" he said. "I'm cold". As he drove me home that night, I held his hand and even told him I had a good time. But, I was crumbling inside. I was having flashbacks as he touched me. When I got home I went to my room and cried and cried and cried. I wanted to rip myself apart. I felt dirty and I couldn't get his 'moan' out of my head. I couldn't get the taste of him out of my mouth. I was disgusted with myself... When I confronted him about it he said he was sorry and that he "didn't pick up on my signs".
Three weeks later I have fallen to my knees in tears praying that the feelings of his hands and the taste of him, would be erased from my memory.. From my body. And I just realized praying for something like that is sort of crazy. I have to talk about it. This wont just go away. I have to deal with it. I have to feel what I feel. I have gotten back into therapy to help me process this event and move on. Before yesterday I thought I was kind of ruined. I thought I would have to start recovery all over again. But, after talking with my therapist and my best friend, I realized that I am handling this A LOT better than I would have if this would've happened a year ago or even months ago.
I realized that I AM stronger than this darkness. I realized I CAN get through this. And I WILL.
I no longer need to HOPE that I will get through this. I KNOW I will. I KNOW I wont always feel like a blurred outline of a girl who lost control of her body. I'm in control. Not these things that are trying to tear me to pieces.
Hold.On.Pain.Ends
Hope.
This is scary, really scary. I wanted to go back to every unhealthy coping skill I have. I wanted the comfort of anorexia, I wanted to cut my own skin off. I wanted to shut the world out and just sleep, sleep forever. I will admit I gave into some of those temptations, but I have quickly pulled myself out of that. I don't deserve to harm myself because someone else harmed me. That isn't logical.
I am strong. I will get through this. This is one more reason for me to keep standing against sexual violence.
I will NOT let this hold me down.
Boy, you have lost. I am winning. I have won.
I Belong To Me.