A story of sexual assault and my best friend’s brother
I didn’t expect it to happen. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I just let it happen. How dare you.
Is it my fault? No, it can’t be my fault. Did I give him the wrong message? What other message would it be besides my verbal, “No.”
Did I give in? Did I…? Did I…? Did I.
I haven’t fully coped. I don’t think I am supposed to. It’s only been three weeks.
I hate myself. Look at myself. How could I let this happen? Me. Of all people. I am a feminist. I fight against injustice. I fight for equality. I fight against assault. I fight for myself. I fight.
I have no emotion. Am I emotionless? It can’t be true. Who am I to you? What did NO mean to YOU. How dare you take advantage of me. My best friend was right there too. How am I supposed to tell her it was okay. That I was okay. When I am not okay. How dare you.
She doesn’t even know. She’s halfway across the country for school. She’s seconds away through my phone. And I can’t bring myself to it.
“He doesn’t deserve it,” I say. “He was a good guy,” I let slide. “It was my fault.”
No. No. NO. It is not my fault. How dare you.
“Well what exactly happened? I mean, was it really assault?” they asked. This is what the problem is with telling someone. How dare you question my experience. I was not intoxicated.
I was trying to sleep. I was trying to sleep and the next thing I know he is behind me. He is kissing me. He is taking advantage of me. I am vulnerable and numb.
How dare you. I am supposed to choose when it happens and what happens. This is my body, my life, my rights. I did not WANT THIS. You took it from me.
How dare you. Single handedly shook me to my core. I hated myself.
But I haven’t cried yet. I haven’t done anything. I haven’t allowed myself the time. I am still coping.
My sisters are still coping. My sisters are still victims. Survivors. Advocates and activists. Together we stand.
Your haunting my nightmares. Vividly scarring my mind when I wake. But I can and will escape you. I am living, breathing strength. You can’t take my reigns. You can’t grasp another. You are full of regret. And I will be whole again, but.
HOW. DARE. YOU.