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“I wish people didn’t have to fight to be believed”

October 13, 2018 By Contributor

* Trigger Warning * – rape

 

It all started when I was 6 and now I’m 18, but I have lost track of how many times that I’ve been sexually assaulted.

The first time that it happened I was 6, and it was my brother and this went on for two years. I didn’t tell my mom or dad because I was terrified about how they would act or if they would even believe me.

Sometimes I would heard my dad make snide comments about how, “they were asking for it with way they were dressed.” I was dressed in pajamas at the age of 11 when my dad assaulted me on the way home. This continued for a year and a half, until I moved in with my mom.

At the age of 14, I got my first serious boyfriend (or I thought at the time) whose name is Alex. I remember the worst night with him was when Alex was forcing himself on me. He pinned me down and did exactly what every other guy in my life has done.

At the age of 17 I was raped again. I was walking home from the gas station, which was a couple of blocks away from my house. I remember the way his hand twisted around my neck and started to choke the life out of me. I was terrified. Petrified. I tried fighting, back but nothing was helping. He choked me so much I passed out. I woke up on the ground of an alley way.

That night I went home balling my eyes out and tried taking a shower to get the feelings of all of the hands off of me. I wish I could say those were the only times, but they weren’t. I’ve lost track.

I remember breaking down in the shower, trying to scrub the feeling of their hands away all while contemplating suicide. The next day I was supposed to spend time with my boyfriend (who I’ve been with for three years), and once I saw him, I broke down. I broke down in tears and told him everything, and for once I could breathe. He took his time with me and made sure I was doing okay. He encouraged me to talk to my mom about everything that happened and slowly but surely I did.

She actually believed me, and told me her past, and we broke down in each other’s arms. To this day, I haven’t seen my father and brother.

Telling them about what happened doesn’t make it disappear, but it makes it easier in some aspect. I just wish more people took it as serious as they did. I wish people didn’t have to fight to be believed. Although to this day I feel dirty and when someone grabs me too tightly I get scared all over again. My body freezes up and I start to have a panic attack, and the entire time, I’ll have flashbacks of all of those nights.

– KE

Location:  Fort Wayne, IN

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SSH will not publish any comment that is offensive or hateful and does not add to a thoughtful discussion of street harassment. Racism, homophobia, transphobia, disabalism, classism, and sexism will not be tolerated. Disclaimer: SSH may use any stories submitted to the blog in future scholarly publications on street harassment.
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