Three years ago, I was raped. It was by a man I had slept with consensually before after a night of drinking- I liked him, I was attracted to him, and he was someone from my inner circle of friends. But the night that it had happened, I had blacked out from drinking. It was my first and last time I allowed that to happen. One moment I was laughing with my best friend and leaving the bar and then I remember darkness as I realized I had stumbled into this man’s room. The next morning I was lying naked in his bed. I confided in my best friend, confused and scared because I remembered nothing. Had I passed out? Did he take advantage of me? Her response: “I wouldn’t put it past him” as if I should have known. Another friend said “You’re not alone- I know a lot of people that has happened to. It’s not right, but it happens.” Since everyone around me seemed to be shrugging it off, I pushed the concern aside. A few months later I asked this man what had happened because I couldn’t remember. His response was “Oh don’t even play that game.” It didn’t feel right, but everyone else seemed to think it was normal or I should have known.
Fast forward to present day, I saw “Brave Miss World” and out of nowhere, I am triggered. I begin crying and it feels I can’t stop. How could I have chosen that this experience didn’t matter? I had convinced myself that I could push it aside because I had other things from my past I still had to cope with and this was insignificant. I followed the advice from the film, and told someone else my story. My mother. It wasn’t until that moment that it began to feel real. Because I know that if I had a daughter, I would not want her to feel an experience like this was insignificant. It was rape. It was not normal.