This topic is hard for me to talk about. In fact, many of those reading may not even realize what I went through. Mind you, I do feel like this requires a trigger warning as I talk about sexual assault and abuse. Those who do end up reading this, hopefully this helps show you a perspective of someone in need without realizing it.
It’s a funny thing being young. You’re naive to the knowledge the world has to offer and follow what social norms your peers have. When I was younger, I wholeheartedly believed that love was making sure your partner was happy, and with that, doing and being the expectation that they had for you. With this, I didn’t realize the extremes that some people may demand if given the opportunity. I thought it was normal.
Boy I was wrong.
In high school I thought it was normal to have your life be molded by your significant other. However, I became isolated from my friends and family due to my partner. He believed that they were liars and bad influences on me.
I was made to believe I was inferior. I was less than dirt. I was a nobody. No one would ever love me the way he did. I should forget about everyone else.
He requested photos of my personal areas. I provided them because he convinced me that nobody but him will truly loved me and that he would never leave me as long as I did what he said. I consented because I was afraid to say no. These were used as revenge porn later on when I tried to leave. A decision that silently tormented me for months.
Friends told me “told you so,” whenever I would start to bring the subject up and try to get it off my chest. They didn’t know. They couldn’t be mind-readers. I don’t blame them for what they said and did. But I never opened up about what truly happened to anyone. They assumed it was just another messy relationship.
This sent me into feeling depressed and anxious all the time. I could not quiet the internal pain that tortured me the moment I woke up to the moment I fell asleep. I became numb and unable to cope with what I was going through. At this time, I turned to self-harming in order to quiet my thoughts and to feel something other than this. It was a disgusting temporary fix to a long-term problem. Unfortunately, this continued on through the following years until someone saw the signs and helped me stop. I have not done it since.
I was physically abused. I started to not allow anyone to touch my wrists or my neck. These were triggers. I felt like a pitiful caged animal whenever someone did so. But I threw on a smile. Pretended that everything was alright. I didn’t feel the agony inside until I was alone in the fetal position in my room.
I was raped. I was ashamed to talk to anyone after. I wasn’t able to process what happened to me. That night I turned the water to the hottest setting and cried because I felt I was impure. I did not feel comfortable going to anyone and talking about this. It took me two years to talk to two of my friends about my rape. After that, I didn’t mention it again for another year and a half. Although, my body and my mind did not allow me to forget. I could bury it from time to time and when I remembered it felt like salt in a fresh wound.
At College, everyone sleeps with everyone so it’s okay to have a one-night stand. At least that’s what the other girls in my dorm said. I went to a party with friends and a guy forced himself on me. I pushed him away and he was offended, getting angry and calling me a bitch. I escaped to the bathroom to breathe. I ended up going home every weekend after until the feelings of shame went away.
I tried again to be a “normal” college student. This time alcohol was a factor. I was never around the stuff until college. Never cared to. I got too drunk. Eyes were on me like hungry wolves. However, someone sober took the liberty of helping me home and making sure no one took advantage of me. That same person was the first person I truly opened up to about everything. Same person who has helped me work through the events that happened, and helped me pick of the pieces of my mentally shattered mirror.
I was alone for everything that happened and I buried it deeper and deeper. It wasn’t until someone close to me stated that it’s not healthy to just bury it, then I began to open up. Began to feel comfortable with talking about it with others. To feel like a true survivor rather than a victim. To regain my confidence and developed strength that I didn’t know I had within. I’ve become a completely different person. It’s odd how our darkest times in our lives are often the times we grow as humans and discover who we are.
The reason why I’m telling you all this is to tell you that you’re not alone. You don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to feel ashamed for the evil someone else brought into your world. You are a strong individual. It’s not your fault with whatever has happened to you. Please don’t blame yourself. I wish someone told me this when everything was starting. Maybe things would have went differently if they had.
Till Next Time,