A year ago, I heard the statistic for rape on college campus. I now am a sexual violence advocate at a local nonprofit. But when I was 19, I was invited to a friends party. He was my ex boyfriends best friend. We drank, danced and partied. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I was with my roommate but she passed out in a different room. His other friend was passed out on the couch next to me.
I woke up to this “friend” ripping my tights and penetrating me. His roommate came out of his room to grab a glass of water. He put his hand over my mouth and told me to be quiet. I did as I was told because I was frozen and scared. Completely unable to move.
I woke up the next morning feeling so horrified with myself for drinking myself to the point where I couldn’t fight back. I drove back to my house with my roommate terrified to tell her what had just happened. To this day she doesn’t know. I went and bought plan B while she took a nap and then took the longest shower of my life. Scrubbing myself to the point of hurting my skin.
I didn’t know there was resources. I didn’t know there was people out there to help me or that rape kits were even an option. Which is why I am now working in the field that I do. I sought out therapy in August and have still not been able to read the letter I wrote to my rapist. But tomorrow is the day I face the darkest part of my past.
If you’re a survivor. Know that I believe you and stand with you.
— Emily, age 23