My Rape Was Not My Fault

I was wearing an oversized men's buttondown and leggings. My hair was unwashed, in a mess of a bun, and I wore no makeup. I hadn't been drinking. I wasn't walking home alone. I wasn't at a party with "bad" people. I was sober, covered from head to toe, and with a friend that I had known for five years.

Despite not fulfilling the popular stereotype a shamable victim, I was sexually assaulted.

First, he pinned me to his bed and began trying to kiss me. When my demands for him to stop made kissing too difficult he began moving his mouth to my neck while trying to open my shirt and expose my breasts.

I'm not sure how, but I did manage to escape from underneath him. I made it six steps before he caught me and continued his assault.

He threw me against the wall and used the weight of his body to pin me there. He continued to kiss my screaming mouth, my neck, and my breasts and chest after tearing my shirt open.

I said NO. I said STOP. I begged him to let me go. I fought as hard as I could against him, and as I realized he was too strong for me to fight, my begging became frantic.

He didn't care. He didn't stop. He pinned me to the wall by wrapping his hand around my throat. He shoved his other hand into my leggings, into my underwear, and began to roughly shove his fingers into my vagina.

Somehow, between my crying and bagging, and his raping of my vagina, I was able to pry his hand off my throat. I ran. I crashed out the front door, stumbled across the lawn, and clawed my way to my car.

I told three people about my rape. The first response? "Well, you shouldn't have been alone with a guy who isn't your boyfriend".

I'm not sure if it was worse that I was slut-shamed while my body still ached from being raped, or that because of that I shamed and blamed myself for months.

I spat hateful accusations at the mirror. I feared my boyfriend would leave me when I told him. I lived with utter disgust for myself. I was told I was "lucky" it wasn't worse.

My rape was not my fault. I am not careless. I am not a whore. I am a victim. I am the victim of a man who believed his desire to violate me mattered more than I did. I am a victim of a society that blames women instead of punishing men.

We need to stop shaming victims. We must raise men and women who value consent and hold themselves responsible for their actions.

We all have the power to prevent sexual assault and to help victims heal. I beg you all, as a rape victim, as a woman, and as a human being, to help me protect and heal anyone who has ever been violated because it is not their fault, but it is ours if we do not help them.