Scrolling through Facebook and Twitter over the past few weeks you’ve probably come across posts and articles about sexual assault victims coming out and sharing their stories and using the #metoo
For awhile I’ve been debating whether or not I should write my story and if I do what am I going to say? What will others say? Is it stupid to share my story?
I took some time to research a few statistics about sexual assault…
1 in 6 women are sexually assaulted
2/3 rapes will go unreported
3 % of men have experienced sexual assault of some form
13% of women who are raped will or have tried to attempt suicide
After reading these statistics and many more, I have to ask: why are we remaining silent? Who are we trying to protect?
There is power in sharing. Abuse and sexual assault only thrives in silence. So, let’s take away that silence.
I was living in India, and was 7 at the time. He was my driver. He took my hand and led me behind the house and behind some bushes. He had me pull my pants down, afterwards he himself pulled his pants down. He had me do things no seven year old should ever do at that age. For well into my teenage years, I told nobody. I felt so ashamed that I had allowed that to happen. I felt like it was my fault.
When I was 19, this guy I had been dating and I were laying in bed kissing. We mutually agreed to go further. A few minutes later, I began feeling panicked and anxious. I asked him to stop. He told me, “No, hold on a bit longer” as he continued to thrust in and out. I asked him again to stop and began to push him off of me. I remember being the one to feel guilty about asking him to stop. Later that evening I drove him home, I remember telling him I didn’t feel comfortable dating anymore. I didn’t feel anything. That was a lie. I was scared of him, I felt like vomiting. He repeatedly grabbed my face and began to kiss me into loving him. I kept having to tell him to stop, to which he would grab my face again and try again.
At age 21, I began dating this guy for three years. Over the course of the years he would not only sexually assault me, but verbally and physically abuse me. He would shove me into walls to show how strong he was. He and his mom would verbally abuse me and began criticizing my body at every turn.
One night we were at a friends house, I had fallen asleep on the couch. He got on top of me to “wake me up” and he began thrusting up and down on my body. I woke up to see him climbing off of me and I just sunk my head back into the pillow.
This is my story.
There are more women out there who have stories like these or even worse.
I am not alone.
They are not alone.
We are not alone.
We should no longer be silent. When we silence our stories and allow them to go un-told we continue to give power to these abusers.
Female or male, our bodies are not sexual objects.
We as victims should not be made to feel like we are at fault.
Don’t continue to hide your voice, and dont continue to give abusers power.