OWNING MY STORY

"your story could be the key that unlocks someone else's prison. don't be afraid to share it."
 i've been feeling the nudging for quite awhile now to share my story with someone, somehow, who needs to hear it. its been weighing heavier and heavier on me as the days go on. okay god, I'm listening! i know that its time to make the time to do this.

i want to share my story of being raped. i will use the word sexual assault throughout my story, but i wanted to first give it its real name. to pack that punch that everyone is uncomfortable with. know why? because rape should make you uncomfortable. it is indescribably uncomfortable. it is a nasty word, for a nasty act. i just wanted to bring that to attention for a minute because it is that real for those of us that have suffered its wrath and therefore is a word that shouldn't be avoided just to make things less uncomfortable for the people reading this.

i want to break this into a three part series. first i want to be as transparent as possible and share my personal story of being a victim of rape in hopes to bring as much awareness and light to a dark place that i can provide. second, i want the millions of victims of sexual assault to know that they are truly significant, untarnished, beautiful people and that it was never their fault. and third, i also want to bring awareness to the heartbreak of this fallen world. rape is just another word until it happens to your wife. rape is just another plot line in the movie until it happens to your daughter. its just another causal conversation to joke about until it is your sister. its just another problem among a world filled with evil until it is your mother. the numbers are staggering, especially the numbers of untouched cases and rape kits sitting in crime labs around the US. 
1 in 6 women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime 1 in 10 men will be sexual assaulted in their lifetime they are: 3 times more likely to suffer depression 6 times more likely to suffer ptsd 13 times more likely to abuse alcohol 26 times more likely to abuse prescription drugs 4 times more likely to contemplate suicide 97% of rapists will never spend a single day in jail

i want to be clear that i'm not sharing this because i want sympathy or attention. vulnerability is one of the essential ingredients to being alive. when we share our stories, we share ourselves. it creates a wide open door to community, to be being known, understood, and most importantly, to being loved. i know that i was given this scar to be used in a positive way to help others and be glorifying to God. i only want healing and positivity through this journey for those hurt by sexual assault. i cannot say that i've conquered it and all that comes along with it, because that would be a lie. i am changed by what happened to me, but i refuse to let myself be reduced by it. i will not let it define me, and you shouldn't either. but it has become part of me, but in a way that can be used for good. he has with purpose, placed other victims of sexual assault on my heart heavily, in hopes that it will bring new light to another story. this is the story and path i was given, and i'm more than ready to own it and give as much hope as possible to those that feel hopeless. this is about as vulnerable as i can get, so play nice please.
i had just recently graduated high school. my boyfriend jordan (my now husband) and i had been on and off again for quite a few years. we had recently gone our separate ways, and i felt that i owed it to myself to have a fresh start somewhere new. i decided to take my scholarship to UNM. i was feeling really confident and ready to become a new person and leave the old me back at home. i found a studio apartment a little ways from campus. my mom helped me move down, and stayed a few days to make sure i was okay and ready to start classes a few days later. the morning she left, a few friends from back home that i had grown up with, also attending UNM, wanted to get out and help me get my mind off of things. we went shopping, had lunch, another casual day. i decided to head back to my apartment and climb back into bed. i just wanted to lay low. they later called and convinced me to go with them to party with one of their boyfriends and his track teammates. it was a huge house, where 8 roommates, all men lived.
 lets call the guy that changed my life in the story Bob. Bob brought me over a small mixed drink he had made just for me. a few minutes passed. i had a few sips of my drink. the last thing i remember of that night was sitting down on the couch a few minutes later, catching up with a friend from high school. 

and then i woke up...  i was on a couch, in the middle of another living room, in a huge, very empty, very unknown house. the sun was out. it was the next morning. i was naked from the waste down. my clothes were folded up nice and neatly next to me on the floor next to my shoes and phone. gee, how thoughtful of you Bob. 
"what happened? where is everyone? where am i? where are my friends? i didn't have much to drink at all? how could i have blacked out from a few sips of one drink? why am i naked? why am i sore? why does my face hurt? what happened to me? why can't i remember anything? something is not right. i have to get out of here." 
i went outside, sat on the curb across the street, and called my friend. "where are you? why did you just leave me here? come get me right now. something does not feel right."
if you have been a victim of sexual assault, then you know firsthand what happens next. people are going to deflect their part in the situation and try and put the blame on you. do not believe the lie.  my friend picked me up, and told me that she had left me because i didn't want to go home. i was acting very strange, drinking excessively at a very quick rate, and insisted that i wasn't ready to leave yet. so they left me there. a house full of men and people i had never met before, in a city where i knew no one. i knew no one. she told me that Bob took me outside before they left. they were tired, so they went home.
 Bob? i said two words to Bob. why would you let me go outside in the middle of the night, by myself, with Bob? if you know me, or even casually knew me, you know that i was known for being a prude in school. i didn't let people in, and i definitely had zero interest in sleeping with anyone. "whatever happened with you and Bob was consensual. go back to bed and sleep it off. we will talk later after you've slept off your hangover." 
but I'm not hungover. i didnt sleep with anyone. i didn't knowingly drink or even have any significant conversation with Bob. this is all such a blur.
i was left alone, at my apartment. ill never forget walking into my very empty studio room, going into that bathroom, and looking in the mirror. 
i was bruised. very bruised. i had a small cut and large bruise under my right eye. i took my clothes off. more bruises. bruises and very clear marking where hands were holding me with enough force to leave the evidence that they had been there. bruises on the inside and outside of my thighs. very very large, tender ones on both of my hips, on one side of my neck, and on the other side, my shoulder. up where my bra would sit another cut and bruising. 
this is not happening. i broke down and called amie. a very good friend from high school, and still one of my very best friends to this day. she came to my apartment before i even had the chance to ask her to come. she took me downtown to the rape crisis center. 
if you are ever in a similar situation, do not have any fear of going to a place like this. they will not pressure you to do anything legalistic. they are truly there only to help you in whatever way you feel comfortable.  upon arriving, they took me straight into the bathroom. they had me remove my clothes over a big piece of plastic that could catch any DNA or other samples that could be used if i were to move forward legalistically. they collected my urine, i hadn't remembered going since the night, before i blacked out. they gave me new clean clothes, and a fresh blanket to cuddle up with. they took some blood samples, and left me and amie while they tested my urine sample for any sign of drugs. i tested positive for rohypnol.
rohypnol: noun

trademark a brand of the drug flunitrazepam used as a hypnotic: ability to render someone unconscious and disoriented on awakening; has been exploited by rapist unconscious. this is all starting to make sense.

they took all the swabs for any DNA, and took pictures of all bruising and lacerations on my body and down below. they confirmed that i had been drugged and raped by one, if not multiple people. that most likely the drug made me completely unconscious, or that i tried to fight back but wasn't able to, which was where all the brushing came from. i was given 9 different prescription drugs, all to help with any STD's i may have contracted. she warned me that some had side effects, and i could feel very off for a few weeks. she warned me of the chance of pregnancy, and gave me my different options if that were to be the outcome.

they then asked me if i wanted to move forward with the police. i wasn't ready for that. this was all just a huge blur. yesterday i was just the girl who was sad about her recent breakup and was ready to start a fresh new chapter in life and simply go to college. now i was the girl who had been drugged and raped by a random guy at a random party, in a huge city where i knew basically no one. 

the woman informed me that they would keep all evidence safely for a full year in case i did decide that i wanted to move forward with a legal battle. amie took me back to my apartment. i went inside, and sat in the corner terrified. i had text and told my friends that i had gone to the rape crisis center, and they had confirmed that i was a without a doubt, a date rape victim. they had told me that i was a horrible person for going to the center, and if i moved forward with the police that i would ruin his life and be the worst person in the world for it. that i better think about what i was doing before i did it. 

if you are a victim of sexual assault, never, ever, ever believe the lie that you are anything other than just that, the VICTIM. people will try and manipulate the situation in any way possible. do not let them. you matter. what happened to you matters. it was never your fault. we need to stop being the society that teaches "don't get raped" rather than "don't rape." 

i think of my daughters. i think of their beauty and complete innocence. and how easily that can be ripped away from them. it terrifies me down to the deepest part of my core. something has to change, and it has to change now!

now here comes the even harder part. the next days, months, and years of acceptance and healing. here comes the shame, the guilt, the grief, the depression, the triggers, the acceptance, the life after the assault. i think to most people rape is still so surface level. it isn't just that night, it is all the nights after that.

shame is the first emotion i felt. its literally like you are wearing it. no matter how many times you've tried to wash it off, its still there. if you've been a victim, you know exactly what i am talking about. it feels as though everyone can see it. like you are wearing a big sign on your forehead saying "i'm dirty, i'm used up." it screams "look away from me." shame is probably the most painful and raw emotion i can think of. it is a kind of exposure and humiliation that is so deep and raw it seems we will never recover from it. it seems terminal, beyond repair . guilt is very different. guilt is i have done something very wrong. shame is "i am something very wrong."

the triggers that follow are almost like ptsd. they are rushing emotions that flood your mind with any association of the assault. at first, they are unstoppable. for me it was being alone with people. basically any person or people that i did not trust wholeheartedly. it was the hum on the radio. rape materializes in everything. it is in the books i read, the tv shows that i watch, the conversations people have all around me. its the physical touch of someones hand touching your shoulder. i've been in a full fetal position in the middle of an aisle in walmart before because that moment of being back there came crashing back. i believed i was alone and feared that someone would hurt me.  it is a long process. after a few years, i've now learned to control my emotions and mind to not let those triggers paralyze me.  if you are a victim, and you are feeling these things, it is okay. it is normal. it is very very normal. do not get caught up in the idea that you aren't allowed to have these moments that are out of your control. you will get through them and you will someday learn to manage them. it just takes time.
i do not want this to come off as if i know it all. these are the stages of grief that i went through. this has been my journey. you may have dealt with things completely differently and your journey through grief may look completely different than mine. you may still be in the early stages, or you may have never actually gone through any stages because you are still stuck in the first one, and that is more than okay. but it may also have been very similar to my journey, and that is why i am writing this. i know firsthand how isolating this grief is. it is truly as if there is no one else in this massive world that could ever know or understand how you are feeling. or have the answers to help you get through this. 

my hope isn't that if you are a survivor of sexual assault that you run out and share every detail of your story to the world right away. my hope is that instead, you first take your tremendous burdens that you've been carrying around on your shoulders with you and dump it all at the lords feet. dump it all, the huge mess that it is, and leave it there. he can bare it. actually, he already has bared it.

now here comes the good news. the good news is that the darkness is not the end of the story. it never is. it’s just the beginning, if you let it be. but first, you have to go through the stages of grief. let the offense of the rape shock you, then let it completely hurt you deeply. don’t avoid the pain. sit with it and feel it no matter how unbearable it is. 

please please know it will end in time.

 then came the anger. don't let it fester. express it to someone trusted and get it out. it feels good. then came the acceptance of what actually happened. i had to face the music and except it. then came the forgiveness which was the most freeing step of the process for me. it has allowed me to heal and move forward, but it was far from easy.

i hated, hated, hated the thought of forgiving for a long time. it seemed like more of a moral obligation, like if i had to forgive bob and the others involved to be a christian. the bible says so. it says so repeatedly. but nothing about forgiveness seemed natural to me. in fact, it seemed like the most unnatural and confusing thing ever. if forgiveness was what God wanted for me,  maybe i wasn’t a christian after all. 

the truth about forgiveness is that it is not a natural response and it isn’t just for the person you’re forgiving. it’s for you. once i understood that, it was so freeing. it just clicked. i will most likely die before receiving any apology or acknowledgement from anyone involved that night. but thats okay. it really really is.
this statement from anne lamott puts it into perspective: “not forgiving is like drinking rat poison and then waiting for the rat to die. stop saying, “i forgive you” and start saying, “i’m forgiving you."

i constantly repeated these things to myself until i actually believed them and started to heal for myself:

i forgive myself for buying into the belief that I could have stopped what happened to me

i forgive myself for buying into the belief that i am damaged goods

i forgive myself for buying into the belief that i deserved what happened to me

i forgive myself for buying into the belief that i will never be happy

i was finally free from the hate i had for Bob. the hate that i had for others. i was finally able to push past that deep hatred and i now am able to pray for blessings for them. its incredible how God has completely changed my heart and thrown out the bitterness. you may not be at this point, and thats also okay. but you owe it to yourself to start actively forgiving so that you are able to move on without this crippling you for life.

lastly, i know whats on a lot of your minds reading this. how is God so good if he allowed this to happen to you? does God really want us to suffer? 

the answer is yes and no. do we really want to go to the dentist? do we really want to discipline our child who is in the other room being mean to their sibling when we just sat down and got comfy on the couch? do we really want to drive the speed limit (or close to it) when we are late for that appointment? definitely not. but why do we do it? because of the goodness that comes from it.

my point is, God does not want to see us to suffer in life. i believe that it caused him tremendous pain and grief when i was raped. but He understood what beauty would come from it. if someone came to you and said, hey, i need your daughter to die a long, slow, painful death in front of people who will mock her as she dies, so that she can save them? um no thank you. but He did that for us you guys. he understands. it is so easy to believe the lie that chaos is the absence of God. but it is just the opposite. he is in it just as deep as we are. there is such beauty and strength that is going to become because of it, and He is the one and only one who will truly walk with you through it.

this isn't a read and solve all. i still struggle with the ripples that have followed the assault. i still struggle with social anxiety and have a hard time enjoying big events where i am surrounded by what seems like an ocean of people. i still struggle with confidence. i still struggle with accepting compliments and believing sometimes that i am beautiful. (if you've given me a compliment and I've been an awkward weirdo in my response, i am sorry) but i no longer let myself believe the lie of shame. i am not these things. 
no one looks at the destruction of anything and calls it beautiful. don't pretend the disaster wasn’t disastrous. instead, built beauty right up out of the ashes. 

the ashes weren’t the beautiful thing. the beautiful thing was what came next.

i have such a deep love and passion for God and what he has allowed in my life because of where it has brought me. he is so so so good you guys. he is a good good father. i honestly stand in awe of Gods grace and how he has transformed me into something far greater than what i could ever intend for myself. i am a new creation. i am made new. i've had many many holes broken in my foundation, but they have been filled and are now overflowing with grace. i feel insanely blessed to be able to be honest and transparent with you guys about my journey. honesty has a way of humbling us, and it has me. it has softened my heart. as i've been honest about the bruised and broken parts of myself, the openness has become a doorway for God's healing. and i so so so want that for all of you. you have no idea how much i want you to be able to heal if you haven't. 

my dear friend ellie sent this to me at one of those perfect moments when i really needed it, and it fits perfectly in closing

 "God is confident we will look back and be lost in wonder at the spectacular love that planned even our darkest moments."- tim keller

in my next post i will be talking more about what happened next in my story, and how i decided to move forward legalistically. i will talk about how justice isn't always served here on earth, but God promises that it will be served with him. i will also be digging deep into the darkness of this world and how desperately it needs changing. our society is too comfortable. too accepting. it has to stop. we are always turning a blind eye and in turn, blaming the victims of these senseless acts. until next time!

please please feel free to message me if you have any questions or just want to talk about anything! i would love to hear from you