Part 1

I couldn’t understand why I needed to write down any of this. Conviction was the words one my close friends used. I have such honest friends, who are open about their sins and secrets. But, I know that hiding this experience, is in part only being dishonest with myself. It is a sin that I am ashamed of; a sin I’m afraid of letting the world know. If I utter these words, they are in a way making the reality of it come to life. This happened to me; I let it because of my sinful nature. I feel responsible for even putting myself into this situation. I’ve come to know that this feeling of guilt is something that all victims come to bare.

How could I let myself be so vulnerable? You were so guarded. You were so good at being “good.” Never did I have to consider the possibility of this happening and yet, it did.

Like all others who had been in this situation, re- victimization is the reason we avoid thinking about “that night”. People will always say things like:

Well if she didn’t wear such slutty clothing it would have never happened to her.

If she didn’t drink so much she would have never let her inhibitions and control go out the window.

If she were a true lady, he would have treated her as such.

The answer to all these questions is “Yes, possibly.”

The second answer to all these questions is, “ Even so, she as a human being didn’t deserve to be treated like that; she as a human being deserved more respect; she needed her life and her innocence to be valued. Every man needs to recognize this, and treat her like the daughter of the King she is. ”

See, what the public eye doesn’t see is that aftermath of that man’s decisions. He will go on a live life as though “that night” was nothing more than just another tick on the calendar; just another night of “fun.” He will go on unscathed. He will believe he had every right. He will feel powerful and unashamed and will live with no physical, psychological or emotional repercussions of “that night.”

 So what if I did it?! She was drunk, I was drunk and she never stopped me.

She will find it amusing that for being a “philosophy major” his line of reasoning is so askew.  He will never question his righteousness. The last thing she will remember before blacking out to the excessive amounts of alcohol consumed “that night” would be him pulling down her underwear.

She will be destroyed.  She will have nothing left, Nothing to give her future husband. She will live with a broken soul. She will go on to believe that sex is just something people do for fun and when they are drunk. She will devalue her sexuality, her pride, and her mind. She will deceive herself into thinking that she has risen above “that night” and that she can take matters into her own hands now. She will do this out of anger. She will do this because “that night” she had nothing left to control; her body, her emotions, her innocence, her future. By taking up arms, and proudly saying that her sexuality is now her own, she will somehow negate the fact of “that night” when her sexuality was not her own. She will think that she has fixed whatever happened “that night.” She will lie to herself. She will see her worth in only what society and men see her. She will judge herself relentlessly and constantly compete with how “suitable” she is in comparison to her girl friends. She will go on to have multiply sexual partners, none of which she will love; none of which will love her.

All this will happen because now her body is not Her own. The blame and shame she will carry by herself; and only her shoulders will she place it on.

I still can't write down the words, much more say it out loud. But, this is reality. My one small step to facing it.