Spilled Ink

On a Horrible September Night

*TW: mentions of unwanted sexual advances (assault?)

It took me a long time to be able to get to the place where I felt I could write about this in a semi-public space. Even while I'm writing this, I feel removed from the event, like I'm recounting the story for someone else. I used to tell myself that I needed to give myself time between the wound of this event, and the moment that it no longer affected me.

I've come to realize that I will never reach that point, where this stops being something that affects me. Which, frankly, sucks. I spent so long getting to a place where I was okay with myself, where I was getting better, while still enjoying being young and experiencing all my youth had to offer. Just for that to be upended by one boy in one night. At first, whenever I used to think about it, I felt such deep unending shame, like it was branded into the backs of my eyelids. I couldn't not think about it, it was always there. It was made worse by the fact that I had to see him all the time, at school, at church, sometimes in my own home. I could barely understand the why, or the what, so processing the who became my fixation. It was the easiest thing to understand, and to this day, the one thing I choose to omit.

This isn't to say that what he did didn't matter, or that the fact that he did it was irrelevant, it's just to say that his name being attached to this does me no good. I wish him all the harm in the world, but I don't want him in mine anymore, in any way. I know some survivors of SA choose to name their assaulter, and maybe one day I will reach a place in my life where I can do that, but the purpose of this chapter is for me to write out every stupid little thought I've had about this, what I learned, and what I have to say. So, strap in, I guess.

I don't want to get into the details of the event itself, because if I'm being honest, I don't remember all of it. Part of that is me blocking the memory out, part of it was the drinking, and part of it is sheer refusal at trying to dig up an old wound. I don't want to remember anything other than the bones of the event. Basically, I got drunk at a small gathering with friends, went to a room to catch a breath, a person I was there with (and have known since I was a kid so I didn't think anything of it) came in and started flirting with me (?). This is the part where it gets hazy. One thing led to another, and I was assaulted, despite repeated protests on my end. Thankfully (and embarrassingly for me) another person came in, and that kinda shocked the whole situation. I was upset, and I left the room, and then I remember having to go back to his place with his roommate. And that's about all I want to remember. I don't think I fully processed it until a couple days later, and by that point all I could really do was cry.

I may not want to remember the event, but the aftermath is something I am still having to deal with. I ended up telling my sister, which felt hard to do at the time, but I am beyond thankful that I did. Without her, having to navigate this all by myself, would've been too difficult for me. It's been a couple months since it happened, and I am finally going to therapy for it. Now onto my feelings on the matter.

This is going to be the complex part. When it first happened, it felt like a one-off, an event that existed as a blip on my otherwise unbothered timeline. But, then his advances didn't really stop, so it became more of a growing issue. And, while a huge part of me knew how much what he was doing hurt me, another part of me was fascinated by the attention. I grew up for the majority of my life (I couldn't explain why because I still don't fully know) for a lack of better words, feeling like an undesirable sack of potatoes. A lot of it centered around my body image, and the general awkwardness of being a teenager. I had never been the object of someone's sexual desires, and I had never thought I was able to be that. So, I wouldn't prevent his advances. I wouldn't take as many safety measures as I could've because I wanted to understand his fascination with me, more than I wanted to protect myself from him. I have grappled with that feeling for so long, and it feels liberating to admit. It was a hard period of life for me. Eventually, I stopped going out to places with him and that whole group, but the feeling of shame and guilt and most of all, regret, remained. I felt like I was partly responsible for the hurt I experienced, because I could've done more. I enjoyed knowing I was desirable, even if the way I knew that was wrecking me. I was 18 and new to university, it felt like I was pushing myself in the worst ways, just so I could feel like I wasn't lagging behind in the experience department. I didn't care what was hurting me, so long as I understood everything everyone around me seemed to already know.

But, looking back, and after reading through stories of other people, I understand that part of it was shock, and the other part was low self-esteem. It wasn't healthy, and it wasn't my fault. I want to stress this part, not just for myself, but for anyone who may read and relate with this. You are not at fault for the harm someone else caused you, the responsibility is not on you to protect yourself because you shouldn't need protection from someone taking advantage of your vulnerable state. It was okay to feel that you could've done more, but realize that you did all you could, and you are here now, and I am eternally grateful for that.

Sexual assault, and general unwanted sexual and non-sexual romantic advances, seem to be a reoccuring theme for college-age kids. It shouldn't be. Nothing outweighs your mental health and your bodily safety, so please don't push yourself into doing something just because you're scared of missing out. There will always be another path to take, another way to understand, that won't leave you feeling like a part of you was left behind in the process. Another thing, please have someone you can talk to, someone you know will support you, and protect you. College is fun, but part of the experience is finding people who will help you grow into someone you love as much as they do.

Like I said, I feel very removed from this event, and other than experiencing panic attacks about it every once in a while, it almost feels like I am speaking about another person. So, I guess this was my way of finally laying to rest that girl. The one who experienced that event, may she live on inside me but not haunt me. This was a very disjointed chapter, but I feel happy for having written it, so I don't care.