It's been awhile since I've wanted to write about anything. Lately, it’s hard to escape how much watching the news upsets me, but also makes me feel like I should be doing more. At this point, with so much happening it’s hard to know where to start. So, I want to start with sharing myself.
I’ve been waiting for the right time to share this story on my blog, mainly because I haven’t felt ready. I’ve written and rewritten, worried about the reaction I would get from others, if any. It’s never going to be the right time, I’ve finally realized. Now seems about as convenient as ever.
I have been sexually harassed and assaulted more times than I can recall. From the old men at the grocery store, on the bus, on the street who “brush” against my backside, seemingly in a hurry, but grip too firm to not be intentional. The ex-boyfriend who tried to set up a 3-some without my knowledge, being blindsided with another guy’s hands down my pants and no one believing me after the fact because of the other person’s sexual orientation. The old boss, who I stupidly thought was going to teach me about the music business, who forced himself on me in my car.
...these are the ones I remember most, but there was one that changed me forever.
In Spring of 2011, I was raped at a fraternity on the University of Utah campus. It wasn’t the first time I was taken advantage of in this house, nor was it the last. I was a 19 year old sorority girl, in my second year at the University, and had just been accepted into the Actor’s Training Program through the College of Fine Arts.
Others in my sorority eventually started talking about their similar experiences at the same fraternity, to which they were silenced by upperclassmen. “You don’t want to ruin our house's relationship with theirs, do you?”
On my 20th birthday, he tried again. This time and unbeknownst to him, he shoved me into an occupied room. He shoved me to the ground and forced himself on top of me. Literally, by the grace of The Universe, someone sprang out of the top bunk, pulled him off me and started yelling at him to not do this here. I bolted for the door, ran to my friends and left the house - not speaking about what had happened.
Why would I share my stories after hearing other girls be silenced? Why would I share them, when I’m still trying to process what happened in my head? People haven’t believed me in the past, why would I share this new experience now? The system was more powerful than I alone, and it fucking failed me.
For over a year, I pretended none of it happened. Out of sight, out of mind - right? I lost myself. I blamed myself. I drank too much. I lost friends because of my erratic behavior. I switched majors because I didn’t want to feel emotions. I failed classes because I couldn’t concentrate. I dropped my sorority because I was outcasted. I hated everything.
I blamed myself.
In 2012, I finally met someone who I felt I could confide in and I’m almost positive it’s what scared them away. I sunk. I was low. I had no one. I was alone. I didn’t talk about it, and I lost myself even more. I blamed myself.
In 2013, I had a mental breakdown. I finally imploded because I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t full of pain anymore. My biggest fear, was that people wouldn't believe me, or they would laugh, or worse - they would undermine my experiences.
After some time, I finally gathered the courage to contact the Rape Recovery Center. Immediately, I was overwhelmed by their generosity and support. I started going to therapy every week, and I finally started to take ownership of the situation. Most importantly, I learned to not blame myself for the awful things that have happened to me. I started to hold myself accountable for how my emotions were affecting me.
It's 2017, and this is the first year I've been able to speak openly about these experiences. They still affect how I carry myself today. I don’t open to new people, because I don’t have a lot of trust left to give. BUT - I'd like to point out that I have had an amazing boyfriend for the past (almost) 3 years, who has been so patient, caring and helpful in my process. He is truly a spectacular man and I am so thankful for him. ♡
These experiences don't define me, but they did shape me into the person I am today. I hope to be someone compassionate and understanding, an ear to listen to if someone feels like they are alone. I assure you, you are not.
