Steubenville

I know I'm a bit behind on this post. Most people in America have already forgotten about Steubenville and Jane Doe. I haven't. I wish I could've written a post sooner about this, but I was sick with a nasty cold. I think it turned out better this way, doing the post once most have forgotten.

I was sickened by the news coverage on the day that the rapists were convicted and sentenced.

"They had such promising futures."

"They are amazing athletes."

"This happened during an alcohol-fueled party."

"The girl was very drunk."

The above statements DO NOT MATTER. Those young men are rapists. They got off with a slap of the wrist. They'll be out probably before they see their 21st birthdays. This is appalling.

And we wonder why so many rape victims don't report the attack to the police? I didn't report my rapist because I knew it would be my word against his and that he would never be convicted.

I do not care how much a person has had to drink, what they were wearing or how many sexual partners they've had. Rape is NEVER okay. Someone who is passed out cannot consent to sex. No means no. This isn't rocket science.

At least, it shouldn't be.

I never imagined until now that I'd have to teach my future children that they shouldn't rape. I assumed that "don't rape" would just be a given. Society has shown me otherwise with their blaming of rape victims and sympathy for criminals. So I will teach my children not to rape. What scares me is this question- Who will teach the people that my children will come into contact with that they shouldn't rape?

Will my son or daughter go through the same pain and shame that I did? Will they be afraid to tell anyone because they think no one will believe them, just like I was? If someone hurts them like that will they be fortunate enough to live through it, like I was? These questions scare me.

I have a message for Jane Doe. It's for all the Jane Does of the world, really:

You are not alone. It is not your fault. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your attacker(s) are the ones who are damaged, not you. You are a survivor. On behalf of every person who has or ever will be sexually assaulted, thank you for your bravery. Thank you, on behalf of women everywhere.

Power(less)

Human beings cannot thrive if they feel powerless. We need the strength within ourselves to prop ourselves up and make it through the tough times.

Over the past seven years more and more of my strength and power has been chipped away by people and by situations. Crohn's disease took a big chunk out of me. Of course, if you have read this blog at all you know that infertility has taken away a huge amount of my strength, power and self-worth. There have been plenty of other things that have happened in there that have slowly chipped away even more. There is one more thing that has taken a lot away from me that I have been very quiet about. 

Until now.

I once read a quote that says that everything that happens to you is your story to tell. I'm taking back my power on this one event. It happened to me and it is my story to tell. 

I am a sexual assault survivor.

On Thanksgiving day in 2005 I was raped by a guy that I went out on a date with. 

I will admit it because I am tired of hiding so much: Yes. I went to a hotel with him. Yes. I consented to some of what happened.

I did not consent to everything. He was stronger and I was unable to make him stop. I was called a bitch and held down. When he was done he spat at me, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" I have never seen a look of such pure hatred in anyone's eyes as I did in his when he looked at me afterward. I hope to never see that kind of evil again. I don't want to go into anymore detail than that.

Until recently I tried to pretend like the assault never happened. I tried to push it to the back of my mind. I told myself that it was my fault and that it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gone to that hotel with him.

I've recently started to realize just how much the assault affected me. My self-esteem took a nose dive afterward. It still hasn't fully recovered. My self-worth was shattered. 

The damage that was done lay dormant for a long time. I was able to ignore it. Infertility has brought it to the surface. Infertility has brought out the same emotions in me that the assault did. I feel worthless, deserving of bad things, and completely out of control of my own body.

I am hoping that telling my story will help heal some of these wounds. I honestly don't know how to even begin "dealing" with what happened. I do know that I don't want to have to hide it anymore. I don't want to have to pretend that Thanksgiving day isn't a really hard day for me anymore. I don't want him to have any power over me anymore.

That's all I've got for this post. I have no answers. Just my story.