From Victim to Survivor

**Warning**

This blog post contains some material that may make some readers uncomfortable

There seems to be a recent surge of rape hitting the headlines, often with juveniles involved. From the Sandusky trial to the most current Steubenville football players, there seems to be a culture of rape, complete with cover-ups and onlookers who decided against intervening. In the last case, not only did the witnesses not stop the assault (which took place in numerous locations, including an assistant coach’s house), but they used their phones to take pictures and video, which were later posted to numerous social media outlets. What in society makes one think that that is appropriate behavior? The media is also guilty of crucifying the plaintiff in the Steubenville case, which leaked the name of the underage female who experienced the assaults. Social media was also used to show support for the two footballers who were sentenced from 1 year to the time they are 21, which is only a few years. Additionally, the social media platforms were tools for individuals to spew vile threats against the female involved in the case. I don’t care if there was alcohol involved, no means no, and intoxication (especially for someone as young as the female involved) does NOT imply consent.

Why do I feel so passionate about bringing light to the rape culture that seems to be a growing global pandemic? Because I am a survivor of rape and sexual abuse, and I know what the individuals who are experiencing the assaults are going through. For a long time, even now, there is shame attached to my experience, which is a common thing for those who have gone through such terror. And while it’s common, it doesn’t make any sense, as it is something that happened TO you, not something that you chose to happen.

My experience started as a child, where an individual molested me over a span of a few years, which started before I entered kindergarten. A child should NEVER have to experience that nightmare. Fast-forward to my pre-teen years…a friend had invited me to spend some of our summer vacation at her cabin with her and her family. There was a local swimming hole, where an individual started to pay us attention, rub lotion on us, and we thought nothing of it, as he had his two kids there. We went back to his house for a snack, and he took me into the bathroom and proceeded to rape me. The smell of Irish Spring soap filling my senses as I screamed for my friend to help me. She stayed in the kitchen during the assault, and later told me that she had promised this “man” that he could have me, as he had “groomed” her previously. I never spoke of the incident, for the shame of the experience kept me quiet. I felt as if I had done something to bring it on. I was 12. My next assault was many years later, in my 20’s. A roommate (and friend whom I trusted), promised my sexual services to someone whom he had owed a drug debt to…without my knowing. When I resisted, I was beaten and raped. Again, I didn’t say anything. I had admitted defeat and thought that that was the only thing I was good for, to be used and abused, a punching bag without a voice.

I have to admit, these experiences have influenced the way I live my life now. I have anxiety, PTSD, immense control and trust issues, and have never had sex while sober, as I always felt a need to escape mentally, in order to go through with the act. I don’t like people touching me, nor feeling like I am trapped and unable to physically escape. The smell of Irish Spring soap brings me back to that experience, and often stops me in my tracks if I am out in public. I have never told any of my past relationships of my experiences, including my late fiancé. I know I have issues, but they also give me strength; strength to persevere, to push myself to be an advocate for those who have experienced the same things, and to work towards becoming a trauma therapist, so I can help others in their recovery.

I have consciously not used the word “victim” in this post, as I prefer to think of myself and others like me as “survivors,” because once we label ourselves victims, we are defeated in our own minds. My plea for those who read this is that they don’t turn their head when they witness an assault. Reach out, tell someone, and if you are the one experiencing the recurrent nightmares and pervasive thoughts, know that there are others out there who know what you are going through.