I’m not telling my story to play the role of the victim. I’m telling my story so I don’t have to stay silent about it anymore, so that others will find their strength and stand up for themselves, too.
Both times it’s happened, I didn’t see it coming.
The first time, it was a beautiful Autumn night, under a full moon at the beach. And the second time, it was cold and pouring rain.
That’s just the thing with sexual assault or harassment, it can happen anytime, anyplace and to anyone. I just didn’t believe it.
Then it happened to me, too.
The first time it happened with a new friend who took me out to shake off my rough day. My uncle had just died, and my boyfriend and I had broken up and for the first time, Wednesday night just felt so lonely.
He started off as supportive and thoughtful, and then he drove me to the beach. I guess I should’ve realized his expectations when he drove me to “his spot” and put the car in park. I wanted to get out and walk around, and he wanted a bottle of wine and good time. Our good times just weren’t the same.
I refused to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with, and I wasn’t comfortable being there, at all, with him anymore.
That’s when he told me though, that a ride home was going to cost me.
It happened again, with a different person, at a house party I probably should’ve never been at. I was the designated driver and I was trying to do the right thing and make sure my friends were safe, that I didn't realize I was vulnerable.
I was content watching TV in the mansion my friends and I pulled up to while my friends smoked weed and shot gunned beers in the closet.
Then Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome himself walked in, and I was in awe of his charm and good looks. He was being hospitable, or so I thought, and asked if I’d like a tour of the house until my friends were ready to go.
Who’s going to turn down a tour of a mansion? It was the biggest house I’d ever seen.
I just didn’t realize the tour would stop in the lavender, third room on the right. Nor did I realize the door would lock. From the outside.
I’m okay, and in both situations, I was okay. I was fortunate enough that I was able to protect myself and my body, despite having to take part in some form, of the other person’s “expectations.”
But what isn’t okay is that I blamed myself. I blamed myself for being in the wrong places at the wrong time with the wrong people. I blamed myself being so naïve and thinking every person I met was a good human being. I blamed myself for voluntarily entering vulnerable situations. I convinced myself that I asked for it. I didn't though, and neither did you.
But moreso than all of that, I blame myself for never telling my story. For staying silent about a topic that deserves the loudest voice.
My hope, is that by printing my story for the first time, that this topic becomes less taboo. My hope, is that it becomes more than just a hashtag.
Sexual harassment is real, and it’s everywhere. Its victims are female and its victims are males. Its victims are children, teenagers and adults – it does not discriminate.
Don't be afraid to stand up for youself. Yell, scream and shout your story at the top of your lungs. Say no when you want to say no.
Don't stay quiet, because I, like so many others who have whispered, hear you.