5 years ago. 5 years ago I was a vulnerable girl with her heart on her sleeve. Bright eyed and loving. Ready to wake up and start the next day. Ready to tackle the world. Until 5 years ago, that changed.
If you wouldâve asked me then what I know now I wouldâve told you you were absolutely crazy. I tried not to think much about it. I tried to tell myself it wasnât what it appeared to be. I tried to tell myself it was my fault for not running away and stopping him, when in reality there was no stopping him or getting away until he got what he wanted because I knew what would happen if I tried. Hit. Slammed into the wall. I was wearing leggings and a hoodie that day. It was cold. My friends told me to go hangout with him while they went and hung out with their âboysâ, and we all agreed to meet up later that evening. We had hung out so many times before. I had told him no. That I didnât want to do that. So many times before. Why was it different this time? What was different this time? He never talked to me again after that day.
5 years ago. I was held down. I was taken advantage of by a boy who I thought liked me for who I was. Not for my body or for my vulnerability. I cried. I was disgusted. I was ashamed. I couldnât look in the mirror. It wasnât me. How could that be me?. No one even knew. No one would believe me.
It took me 5 years to come to terms with this. 5 years of questioning what happened. 5 years of blowing it off and pushing all my emotions and horrible memories deep, deep down into my gut. 5 years later for someone to tell me the gut wrenching truth of what I knew all along. I was raped.
It never gets easier. The feelings never fade fully.
The year of my life I have been loved by the sweetest man I could ever dream of being loved by. He truly holds my heart with such gentle hands. And if you ask him, it was hard to love me and probably still is. I am not who I used to be. And I truly hate that for him. I am anxiety ridden and crippling. I want to offer him with so much more than that. He doesnât deserve to deal with that. But he never gave up on me and still fights with my anxiety daily to show me what itâs like to be loved and to show me that I am worthy. What did I do to deserve that?
I sit here with a tear stained face almost numb. Itâs not easy to admit and I want to vomit at the word. but itâs something I feel I needed to in order to keep pushing forward even though Iâm still haunted everday with panic and irrationality because of one awful day. Because one day I wonât be like this. I guess thereâs not really a time frame on when it truly goes away. But Iâm hopeful that one day it will.
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