Journey to Wholeness
The 2010 Vee and the 2020 Vee are two different people. If I met my past self now, after speaking with her casually, the first thing I would ask after the introductory talk is “Are you okay?”
In 2010, I actually was not okay. I was raped by a guy I met freshman year who I thought was a friend. It was after a party and it wasn’t even midnight. I wanted to still hang out and stay up. I would say “The night is young,” when it was the beginning of a weekend and adventure was the plan, plus college kids don’t sleep early. I trusted this person, they never gave me a reason or feeling to think that there would be any harm done. Not to me.
The act took me forever to process. My phone and key were out of my possession, and I just remembered asking myself “How did I end up here?” I remembered being too scared to scream, too scared to fight, too scared to speak. I was by myself in a dark room not of my own. His best guy friends were present. Did they all plan this? One was in the corner sitting down, acting oblivious, the other wanted his turn but jacked off instead. I just laid there, in hopes someone would knock on the door, or that I would wake up and be back in my room. I was scared for my safety and hoped that I would wake up from this. I couldn't accept the experience and I ignored my inner screams in fear for my safety. This experience had to be false, I just wanted to live and mentally be okay. I was ashamed of myself. How could I let this happen and not protect myself? You know how to fight! I was helpless. I just knew that I would never be able to tell a soul because who would believe me Then it ended. I woke up around 1:45 AM. My things were finally in sight. I calmly got up, his friends were gone, he was asleep, I left.
Later that day, I felt sick. The clinic was closed on the weekend but I made an appointment for Monday morning. The guy posted a status saying “Wow, last night…” I felt even sicker. This sickness was more than a slight cold, it was depression and the fight of being in denial. For two weeks I tried to medicate as I made myself believe that nothing happened. I convinced myself that since I was alive I was okay, yet I felt powerless. The unhealthy coping method I chose was acting like I can gain my power back by looking on the bright side of at least my first time was consensual. That notion was my comfort as it kept me in denial of this rape.
From that point on, I promised myself that I would never let any such thing happen again. I later got into a relationship and felt that I never had to address that time in life because now I was safe and with someone who understood consent. Years later, I was date-raped by a guy I recently met. This time I spiraled due to the force from the assault. Again I was in denial of the rape and I felt that it was my fault because I must’ve said something to make him think I wanted it. I didn’t. Yet I questioned myself and blamed myself. I blocked out all logic and again suppressed my thoughts of what happened so the event could get downplayed and leave my memory. I even convinced myself that it didn’t happen how it happened because I made it back safely to where I was staying. Never again.
It took me years to be comfortable with myself and my real story. I had to learn that I was not at fault and that I didn’t do anything to deserve rape. I didn't ask for it, say yes to it, or enjoy it. Both times, I gave myself 20 minutes to cry the next day then suppress it as I told myself "You're okay, now go live." It wasn’t until recently when I reflected with myself and later shared with a few close friends that I was raped. It was a realization that I needed to accept for myself and realize that the suppressing tactics I once used were harmful and hindering me from healing.
Even before my experiences, I was already someone who was against sexual assault and against silencing survivors. It was always an area I never took lightly, but now in quarantine, I was given the opportunity to reflect, release, and realize my experiences. There was no need to continue in harmful suppression, for my story needed to be told in order to begin my healing journey. The shame I once cradled and covered for unnecessary protection I finally burned. Accepting my truth is only the beginning of my journey to wholeness and healing. There is no need for sympathy or shame even if I've grown from 5 and 10 years ago. As healing continues, I have more learning to do, and I am okay with this season as it is my journey to wholeness. Be true to yourself and tell your story, you can be made whole.
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