Believe Me ✔️

[40] Believe Me

Three Weeks Later

Today is We Stand Strong's public speaking at the school. I changed my mind and decided I wanted to speak. After the news of That Night and Paul's case sparked major headlines, my story went viral all over social media. The hashtag #WeBelieveAddy trended at number one on Twitter. I don't even use Twitter, but to have all these strangers online believe me without even knowing me brings happiness and a sense of calm I haven't known in a long time. I fidget with the sleeves of my pink, long-sleeved, waist-tie crop top, undoing the knot as I tie it back again, tighter. Crowds begin to form around the front steps. Wow, I didn't know this many people were going to show up. They all have signs.

'We Believe You!'

'NO means NO!'

'FEAR! IS! NOT! CONSENT!'

'PROTECT SEXUAL ASSAULT SURVIVORS'

'YOU ARE NOT DAMAGED. YOU ARE LOVED.'

Their signs are heartwarming and colorful and I'm in the middle of reading one as Vanessa steps in my line of view. She nervously smiles and says, "Hey, Addy."

"Vanessa?" I ask, confused. It's been months since we've spoken, I completely forgot about her.

"I'm sorry," She starts, awkwardly shoving her hands in her back jean pockets. "For not believing you." This is exactly what I told her not to do. "I should have and I'm sorry. It was just easier to—"

"Think I was a liar?" I finish with a nod. "Yeah, so did a lot of people."

"Also, you were completely right about Logan," Vanessa adds and she gestures to the bruise along her jawline. "Guess I should have listened, huh?"

Beth and Cleo wave and start to walk over. "Look, Vanessa. I'm speaking soon and—"

"Can you forgive me?" She interrupts.

If Vanessa had asked me that questions months ago, I would have screamed no and threw my shoe at her face. After reconnecting with Aunt Stella, I realized that holding onto hate for years only hurts you in the end. I nod and say, "Of course I forgive you."

"Can we be friends again?" She asks with a hopeful smile.

"No, we can't, Vanessa," I answer without hesitation and I watch as her smile fades into a frown. "You left me when I needed you the most. Friends don't do that." I pause and take in a deep breath. "But I accept your apology."

"Okay..." She shrugs and sighs. "I can live with that."

Cleo pats my arm and asks, "Are you ready?"

I nod and swallow my fear. "Yup."

Beth steps up to the podium and adjust the microphone. She clears her throat and looks out to the crowds. "Wow, what a crazy turn out this is, right? I don't think I've seen this many people at once. Are we sure this isn't a Taylor Swift concert?" She jokes, and laughter scatters across. "There's a lot of familiar faces here today, along with news one. We welcome any and everyone. This is a safe space. My girlfriend Cleo and I started this new club at our school a few months ago called: We Stand Strong. We fight hard against sexual assault and violence and support all survivors. Speaking up about what you experienced is hard—almost soul crushing and impossible—but this club is your safety net when you speak up, seek help, and tell your story. We will always believe you. We're starting to go local around our city and are planning to visit schools and bring awareness to this sensitive and serious topic." She turns and glances at me. "Today we have a new member of our club speaking up and telling her story today. If you're on social media—especially Twitter—then you may have seen the hashtag, 'We Believe Addy' trending. She is a strong, beautiful woman and we hope her story will encourage others to gain the courage to speak out and fight back."

"Holy shit," I whisper to myself as I take in every single person in the crowd. They cover every inch of the road and police stand at each end and direct traffic. Why did I agree to speak? I'm about to turn around and run as Cleo nudges me forward and I step on the podium. Too late. Everyone sees me now. It's okay, Addy. Just take in a deep breath and talk. Find something to focus on.

Near the front of the crowd, I see Douglas and he waves. My anxiety eases away and I smile. He's standing with my family. 'You got this, babe,' He mouths and gives me a thumbs up.

I can do this. "Hey, it's Addy. I'm sure you know that already or else why would you even be here? I didn't mean for it to happen—my story going viral—but it's a good thing it did. When one person speaks up, someone else does, and another, and it creates a chain reaction. A beautiful domino affect of love and trust and having someone to lean on is the best feeling in the world. You don't have to feel alone anymore. You don't have to carry your burdens by yourself anymore."

I take in a deep breath and continue. "I am not a lucky person. Yes, I have a nice house, a nice car, nice clothes, and my life seems perfect. I've always had it easy, with no limits to my privilege, but I am not lucky. I was raped in my own bedroom, a place I'm supposed to feel safe, and I used to blame myself for letting it happen. If only I had locked the door. If only I were somewhere else. If only. I mean, it has to be my fault, right? No! It was his fault, not mine. You should not be blamed for the consequences of someone else's actions."

I scan the crowd and look at all the different people. Different genders. Different races. Different sexualities. Different everything. I know some of them flew out of state just to be here today. "Being sexually assaulted isn't an easy thing to live with. You feel disgusted with yourself, embarrassed even. You want to shove every thought, every memory, every feeling of that horrible and dehumanizing experience into a locked box and forget all about it. But it doesn't go away, it sits there in the back of your mind, slowly killing you. It changes you. It changes your life, how you act, how you think, and how you interact with other people. When you decide to speak up, there's always someone who doesn't believe you, who think you're lying, and then another lock gets added to that box."

"That happened to me. People called me a liar. I have to live with what happened to me, on top of people hating me and not believing me. All it takes is one person to believe you and I'm grateful for that one person." My eyes find Douglas' again. "When one person believes you, so will someone else. So many survivors stay silent because of that fear—of not being believed. Don't be afraid. Be angry! Be angry at those who hurt you. Be angry at those who try to silence you. Don't be afraid to speak up. People will listen and support you. Talking to someone you trust is the first step to things healing and getting easier. Talk to your best friend. Talk to your boyfriend, girlfriend. Talk to your Mom, Dad, brother, sister, or even a stranger at Walgreens. Getting that heavy burden off your chest is freeing. You deserve justice. If you're alone, join We Stand Strong and help other survivors. These people here will believe you, just like they believe me."