DIsclaimer: article contains DESCRIPTIONS of sexual assault and rape
At 16 years old, the most stress you should have on your plate should be picking out a homecoming dress. For the most part, my experience as a 16-year-old girl was awesome. I got to hang out with my friends and go to the mall anytime I wanted. On New Year’s Day, 2024, my innocence was stripped from me.
I had a boyfriend who I thought was the most perfect man ever. Turns out the first boyfriend you ever have will likely be a learning experience, not a true love story. We had been dating for almost a year and a half, and we just recently celebrated his 18th birthday. His parents loved me, and they trusted me to babysit their younger daughter overnight if needed. So, when New Year’s Eve rolled around, I had my overnight bag packed for babysitting and made my way to his house.
The entire day was normal; we hung out at home, ate good snacks, played fun games, and I got to spend time with the people I loved. His mom wanted me to watch his sister starting in the morning, and she figured if I was going to be at their house late enough to watch the ball drop, then I could just sleep over.
Looking back, sleeping at my boyfriend’s house always meant more trouble than anything.
I wasn’t the type who wanted to get intimate anytime, anywhere. He, on the other hand, always wanted to. It started with the guilt tripping. He’d tell me how hard a day he had and how he just needed to release some stress. If I didn’t, the rest of our day together would be ruined. I never knew this wasn’t normal, so I never thought anything of it. Next was the aftercare, or the lack of it, I should say.
When he was done, he got up, showered, and moved on like nothing had happened. I felt absolutely disgusting. I was just an object to him. We finished on his terms, we did whatever he wanted, and none of it was in consideration of me. When I would ask for his time and affection after, it was always that he had other things to do.
On Jan. 1, 2024, at approximately 2 a.m., he woke me up asking to do it. In order to avoid conflict, I agreed. It went how it usually did, zero pleasure on my end, and I thought I’d be able to go back to sleep after being used. This time it was different; it was painful. After exceeding a level of pain that I couldn’t handle anymore, I told him to stop.
He never did. I tried to crawl away, but I felt his hands pull me back in by my hips. Again and again, I begged him to stop. Nothing. It wasn’t until I had to scream that he finally got off me. He rolled over and went to bed. I sat there, naked and terrified for my life.
The person you love and trust fully had just done the most unimaginable thing. You hear about it all the time, but you think it’ll never happen to you. And here I was staring at the ceiling, hoping I’d wake up from the nightmare sooner rather than later. I cried myself to sleep that night. The worst part is that I had to stay to watch his sister the next morning. There was no escape. I was angry at him for hurting me, but after that night, it was never brought up again.
We broke up three months after that. It was an extremely messy breakup, and I confided in my friends to help me get through it. I started opening up about all the terrible things he would do to me, including that night. I never knew it was rape; I only found out because my friends told me. It’s been almost two years since this happened to me. My parents don’t know, and his parents don’t know. I’m not even sure if he knows. Since realizing what it was, I’ve kept my mouth shut in order to protect his career. But every single day I wake up with the built-up rage telling me I should speak up about it.
Since then, I’ve taken a lot of time for myself for reflection. I have also been in therapy for over a year and a half. Therapy has been a huge help for me, especially since my parents still aren’t aware of this. I am planning on telling them eventually, but the time doesn’t seem right. Not all hope is lost, either. I was finally feeling capable of trying out dating again, and I have since then found a partner who helps me through this traumatic experience. I am very open about it with him to help him better understand me.
These experiences with sexual assault and rape have impacted my current relationship heavily. I think if there’s anyone out there who is going through something similar, they need to be aware of the good and the bad that may come from this. The good is that I have much higher standards when it comes to finding a partner and I am very comfortable setting boundaries in my sexual life.
The negatives, however, sometimes impact my partner as well. The PTSD that follows an experience like this is daunting, and even if you want to be intimate, the memories always linger. There have been countless times when I’ve had an extreme mental breakdown before, during, or after being intimate. It’s become very hard for me to want to have any kind of physical interactions, even with someone who I know won’t hurt me. It’s exhausting. You feel like no matter how much you scrub your skin to the point where it hurts, the disgust will not come off. It feels hard to breathe like there’s a constant weight crushing your chest. But with the right resources, recovery is possible.
Like I mentioned before, therapy has been such a major step in my recovery. I currently see an on-campus therapist, but I also have a therapist back at home who has been amazing to me. I’ve also learned that poetry and journaling are huge ways to cope with it. Running and going to the gym are my favorite activities to do if I’m feeling overwhelmed or if I just need a quick way to distract my mind. Also, talking about it! I promise you: your friends and family members would rather hear about it a million times than know you’re suffering alone.
There is a 24-hour toll-free hotline for anyone going through sexual assault or rape. You can reach them at 1-888-945-3970. There are resources out there for you, and you do not have to deal with it on your own. These things can happen to anyone, do not dismiss it. Use your voice and speak up about it!
And to my rapist, f*ck you.