Hi.
Wow. I’ve been dreading this conversation. But it’s been almost five years since you exploited me—since you spoiled my innocence.
I must sound overdramatic, but here is my chance to finally come clean with a secret I feel like I’ve been harboring for years. A secret because–still, to this day–I can barely pick apart the events of that night. I was underage and over-intoxicated…and I am ashamed of that. It has taken me five years to recall any minute detail that pops into my head and piece together the puzzle of that night. I’ve doubted my recollection time and time again. Who wouldn’t? I sound like some immature girl who got too wild at her first college party, woke up the next morning next to some dude and cried wolf.
But when I woke up next to your completely unfamiliar face that next morning, I refused to believe what you were telling me: that we had sex, that you took my virginity, that I enjoyed it. That’s your side of the story? Well, here’s mine:
I was a junior in high school at my first college party…ever. Needless to say I was so excited and felt like a total badass because I lied to my parents about where I was going that night. (I know, how cool was I?)
I met you at the party through a mutual friend. We started talking in a group, but I didn’t think anything intimate of it. Before things started to get hazy, I made a joke about me being a senior in college because I wanted to appear cool.
I eventually told you the truth and admitted to being a mere 17. I even told you I had a boyfriend, and I thought you would respect my boundaries. The rest of the evening was spent around a bonfire. You encouraged me to take every shot handed to me and to chug an entire Four Loko. Of course I did it– I had to prove I was cool enough to hang out with college boys I just met. In fact, I was so grateful for the alcohol you were giving me, of course I trusted you to go fill my cup from the keg. (Extra credit question: Who can guess all of the mistakes I’ve made so far to land me in a dangerous situation?)
Eight cups later, and home girl is blacked out.
By midnight, the cops had busted the party and it was time to carry this trashed, lightweight girl back to your freshman dorm. Man, was I sloshed. I spent hours puking up the entire contents of my stomach in your bathroom. I bet that turned you on because you found a way to get me in your bed shortly thereafter. I mean how sexy was the pizza mixed with vomit on my breath when you were trying to kiss me? Was I egging you on to keep going? Especially with the incoherent words I managed to string together.
Fast forward through the grueling details…I have a question for you:
Have you ever done something so unlike yourself that you wonder who you even are?
Because for the longest time, I did. I wondered why I had done that. I had taken responsibility for everything. It was my fault I was raped. There was no way you could’ve put anything into my beer. I blamed myself for drinking too much. I kept reminding myself of how much I deserved it because I had lied to my parents about where I was going. Of course, if I was going to compromise my safety, I would have to learn from my mistake.
And I’m not here to forgive you, nor to tell you that what you did was okay. I’m not even here to force you to accept your own responsibility in this. Instead, I’m telling you that I am okay. I refuse to let what you did to me ruin my life. I refuse to blame just myself. I have accepted that the mistakes I may have made to contribute to that night do not represent who I am as a person. I am a stronger individual than I was, and I will continue to use this struggle as a learning experience for myself, as well as others around me.
Sincerely,
Me