Read the Printed Word! Hi, I'm Amanda. - A Mind, Lively and at Ease

A Mind, Lively and at EasearchiveLMGMDGLS

PoetryProse

Hi, I’m Amanda.

You know what, tumblrs? I’m tired of a subject which I feel compelled to put in somebody else’s words instead of my own. So here it is. 

I was date-raped. 

Not that I let it destroy me. Instead, I’ve let it do worse. I’ve let it drag me into silence I no longer want to keep. I let it become more of a secret than it should ever be.

Here’s why: in order to stop this, we all have to stand up. I don’t discuss this all that often, even with family. It occurs in passing conversation, I’ll say, “You know, because I was sexually abused”

They know, but who else does?

I told all of my best friends and roommates that I trusted right after, but this is a subject that should never become the seemingly moot point it has become in my life. 

Once I started sharing, I immediately encountered several friends opening up to me about their pasts. About molestation and sexual harassment. 

It was far too easy to find girls with similar experiences. Far too easy. I’m talking at least one person in each friend group has been sexually assaulted. 

Now, that’s just out of my different groups of friends, so of course it isn’t an accurate survey. I don’t want to begin “7 degrees from sex crimes.” Still, I didn’t even have to find friends of friends before unearthing someone’s tragic past.

I remember feeling empowered after, like I had nothing else to lose. Indeed, I felt that way for a long time. I finally understood tragedy and loss greater than I ever imagined. I encountered that terrible strength you only feel when the odds seem finitely insurmountable. I felt like a survivor cutting through my own ideals and the world I previously knew. 

I’m so lucky, though—because I can’t remember anything, because it happened when I was old enough to deal with it appropriately (I can never imagine teenage me confronting my rapist), and it wasn’t a family friend I had to endure seeing time and time again. I have my tragedies, but there are millions of women suffering daily from a milieu of PTSD symptoms beyond triggers. 

I was lucky because an amazing guy found his way into my life right when I needed him the most: cared for me, told me everything I ever wanted to hear, tried his hardest to understand without getting overtly angry and seeking out the rapist (I have never in my life seen a man so intense with hatred yet able to calm down and control his emotions to listen better), and best of all understood when I discovered my emotions couldn’t handle and support him in addition to my own problems, taking everything with such dignity that I will always admire him for that. 

So very lucky—because there are women out there whose self-esteem rests upon that event, because there are women out there watching the same scene replay in bursts, because there are men out there considering suicide after one of their buddies misused their trust and assaulted their drunk, limp bodies, because there are girls/boys/women/men out there still shivering from a touch they didn’t authorize, 

because I have the words. 

Words are power.

I’m Amanda—writer, pet parent, daughter, sister, student, friend, self-entertaining comedian, dreamer, internet user, survivor of depression, 

sexually assaulted woman that will no longer have one horrible incident define her social interactions,

an open ear and a heart that expands with the universe.

I look forward to meeting more of you. :)

link•hello• •sexual abuse• •gender equality• •sexual rights• •rape• •date rape• •abuse• •sexual assault•

5 notes • 1 year ago