ONE SURVIVOR'S STORY

THE FIRST TIME I was sexually assaulted, I was in elementary school. 

He was an adult I’d trusted. It wasn’t violent. I wasn’t beaten or bloodied. There were minimal outward physical indications of what became an ongoing event.  

Despite the lack of physical violence, it was assault. 

My second run-in with sexual assault occurred right after high school. I was staying with friends in another state for a month. One night they all went to a nearby party. I stayed behind, hoping for a few minutes of peace and quiet and an uninterrupted hot shower. Sometime after midnight, as I was stepping out of the shower, there was a knock at the front door. I assumed my friends had forgotten their keys and dashed to open the door. Two strange men stared back at seventeen-year-old me, dressed in nothing but a robe, my hair still wet. The men forced their way into the house, knocked me unconscious, restrained my wrists behind my back with my own robe tie, and raped me. 

They left me bloodied, beaten, and ashamed. 

I didn’t call the police. A friend of mine had been raped the prior year, and the local “justice” system was anything but. They said she’d asked for it by wearing a short skirt and being drunk, and by the time it was all done, they had painted her as a slut and a cocktease. The guy got away with it. I had no desire to go through that. I only told a couple of my closest friends – not that I had many. Even then, I didn’t trust easily. I’d been harshly introduced to darkness at too young an age.

My third assault was just a few months later. I’d started dating my male best friend. One night at the end of a date, instead of taking me home as usual, he drove to an isolated area to make out. He kept pushing me to go further. I said no, but he snapped that there wasn’t a valid reason for me to turn him down – after all, it wasn’t like I was a virgin. He knew what had happened when I was a kid, and he knew two men had raped me. I kept saying no and trying to shove him away, but we were in the middle of nowhere, and he was stronger than I was. Eventually, I stopped struggling and just waited for it to be over. 

Afterwards, he acted like he hadn’t done anything wrong. He acted like I’d been in the wrong for resisting, especially since I’d previously professed to care about him.

I didn’t report him, either. 

In each of my experiences, my mind helped me cope in the moment by focusing my attention on things beyond the assault. I can clearly see the cracked window patched with duct tape and the yellow stains on the wall from the leak in the ceiling from my earliest encounters. I can describe with startling detail one man’s scuffed black motorcycle boots along with the smell of the sweaty body of his friend crushing me facedown in the carpet, but I can’t see their faces. I remember the smell of the upholstery in my boyfriend’s backseat, a combination of heavy new-car air freshener and stale cigarettes.

I am a survivor of sexual assault. I do not have all the answers, nor do I profess to. What I write here is from my own experience and is my opinion, not gospel. Take what works for you and set the rest aside. 

The word assault conjures violent images – hitting, choking, the use of weapons, and so on – while forcing someone to have sex. But sexual assault doesn’t always include graphic violence. It can be any nonconsensual sexual contact – groping, fondling, kissing, or touching intimate areas, and it may or may not include intercourse. This includes:

• Sexual contact with someone too intoxicated or high to consent. 
• Sexual contact where misuse of an imbalance of power leaves someone feeling unable to refuse – a college student and professor, for example, or a boss and employee. 
• Sexual contact with someone whose emotional or mental capacity prevents them from being able to understand enough to fully consent. 

The bottom line: IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE GRAPHICALLY VIOLENT TO BE SEXUAL ASSAULT. My first situation wasn’t violent, but it wasn’t consensual.

And “violent” or not, survivors can experience the same damaging aftereffects.

Immediately following my rape by the two strangers, I had bleeding, bruising, and pain. I had pain in my ribs from being knelt on, tenderness in my shoulders from having my arms wrenched behind me, and a headache (and probably a mild concussion) from a sharp blow to the back of my head. I was terrified of an STD, which thankfully, did not happen, and I was on the pill to control my heavy periods, so I didn’t have to worry about pregnancy. 

Not all survivors are so lucky. 

Common immediate aftereffects of sexual assault include pain, bleeding, bruising, sexually transmitted infections, pelvic inflammatory disease, and pregnancy. 

In particularly violent assaults, the survivor may also have multiple traumatic injuries, such as broken bones or contusions. 

Many survivors develop fear and anxiety afterwards, especially when the attacker is someone the survivor knows or may encounter again. Others struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts or attempts. Many self-soothe with alcohol or drugs to escape the pain.

One of the most insidious aftereffects is guilt. All too often, survivors turn the blame inward. 

I shouldn’t have left the bar with him. 

Why did I wear that outfit? 

I shouldn’t have had so much to drink. 

I should have fought harder. 

The long-term effects from sexual assault can be just as damaging. I struggled to trust any males after the last assault. He’d been one of my best friends – or so I’d believed. His actions caused me to develop an automatic suspicion of people and their motives. My husband was the first man I was able to trust, and it took years. 

Following a massive crisis – a natural disaster, of all things, something not remotely related to sexual assault –  I ended up a full-blown psychological mess. I struggled with anxiety, depression, panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares, insomnia, and thoughts of suicide. Though it had been decades since my assaults occurred, I was suddenly reliving things on a daily basis. 

I took the terrifying plunge and sought help. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here today.

Long-term effects of sexual assault may include any or all of the following:

• Flashbacks
• Panic attacks
• Nightmares
• Insomnia
• Fear/ phobias
• Hypervigilance
• Depression
• Anxiety
• Suicidal thoughts
• Self-harm (cutting, eating disorders, etc)
• Self-medicating through alcohol or drugs
• Sexual withdrawal
• Hypersexualism (often as a denial mechanism)
  

If I had it to do over again today, I’d make a different choice. I’m a stronger person now, and I accept that by not reporting the men who hurt me, I unwittingly allowed them the opportunity to hurt other people. I’d also like to think that society no longer blames females based on the way they dress or whether they’re intoxicated. I’d hope our culture wouldn’t excuse men’s actions as a moment of weakness at the mercy of their hormones. 

But not everyone can make that choice, and believe me, I understand. Home wasn’t a safe place for me, and my options were very limited.

If you have been through a sexual assault, whether violent or nonviolent, there are 3 things you need to know: 

1. IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. Repeat this over and over in your head, or tape a reminder to your mirror. Let this become your new mantra.
2. You are not a victim – you are a SURVIVOR. This change in mindset is critical. The victim mindset says bad things will keep happening to you, and there’s no escape. The survivor mindset says that no matter what occurred in your past or what challenges you face in the future, you will find a way to move forward, one small step at a time. 
3. Seek help. None of us can make it through life entirely on our own. Triumphing over trauma demands solid coping mechanisms. A professional will support you through your crisis and teach you how to best manage your current reality. You can find help through support groups, a therapist or psychologist, your health care provider, or your spiritual leader. Seeking help isn’t easy, because you’re exposing things you’d often prefer to bury, The thing is, if left buried, those traumatic wounds will fester, and like an infection, spread throughout your psyche. It’s best to open them up and let the healing begin.

You are strong. 

You are beautiful. 

You are a survivor, and I stand with you.