Scrolling through Facebook, I don't doubt that you've seen 9 million "Me Too" posts. I have too, and here's another one. This is me being pretentious "As Fuck" and doing (yet another) me too post.

Now I'm not saying this to downplay anyone's sexual assault experience AT ALL. Your experience is 100% totally valid and all the feelings and emotions you've gone through are important. (I'm just a Sarcastic Hoe who deals with things through this weird style of conversational sarcastic humor.)

I now realize the amount of people posting me too posts is exactly the reason they were created; to show the amount of people that have been sexually assaulted. And after talking to a lot of women, I realized that the vast majority of women in my immediate family, in my close friend group, and within my acquaintances, have had issues with sexual assault and harassment. So, here I am, because #vulnerabilitymoment in the hopes that other people know they aren't alone.

And for people who don't want to tell people publicly, YOU ARE UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO DO SO AND YOUR EXPERIENCES ARE STILL VALID. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO TELL ANYONE YOU DO NOT WANT TO AND YOUR CHOICES ARE STILL VALID AND IMPORTANT.

I think one of the many reasons I choose to think that I can't make a "me too" post is that my experiences are not "bad enough". But as I'm finally coming to terms with something that happened to me last year, I'm realizing that my experiences are valid, and so are yours.

I choose not to use the "r-word" when talking aloud about my assault because I feel like that makes it "too real" and I'm still trying to come to terms with the things that happened, but also because I feel like rape has such a specific definition, so assault it shall be called.

The first time I remember something happening to me that I didn't want was in the 7th grade. During a science class we watched a movie that I cannot remember the name of, I also don't remember the plot of the movie, all I remember is hands and fingers of the boy sitting next to me. Now, being in the 7th grade, I was starting to want specific male attention, and even wore dresses I'm surprised didn't get dress coded (dress codes are an issue in themselves, I digress). While watching the movie in science class, the boy who sat next to me kept rubbing his hands all along my thighs. Not knowing what to do, and having never had anyone touch my legs in a sexual manner, I just sat still, staring straight ahead, pretending it wasn't happening. I remember thinking that if I told anyone, I'd get in trouble. I also didn't know I was allowed to tell him to stop. So the only time I ever mentioned it was years later to my dance teacher and mentor whom I love dearly, and played it off like it was just me, getting the male attention I wanted.

I wouldn't consider this an assault, for me specifically (IF YOU HAVE AN EXPERIENCE AND YOU CONSIDER THIS AN ASSAULT THAT IS VALID AND I RESPECT YOU, YOUR EXPERIENCES, AND YOUR THOUGHTS). And even 4 years later, during my junior year of high school, when I knew that I could tell a different boy to stop doing the exact same thing that happened in 7th grade, I didn't, thinking I would get in trouble. And when he told me he couldn't help himself because his girlfriend wasn't "putting out", I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and let it slide. (Side note, years later, we are going to the same college, and I refuse to let him come over/go over to his room because I am scared that he might try something.)

Last year, during my first semester of college, I was assaulted twice in the same night, by two different boys. For the longest time, I told myself both of these instances were my own fault, and even now, I still feel guilty for the things that happened and think of all the things I could have done to prevent them from happening. But, the past is in the past, and logically, I know that these instances are not my fault. (lolz but the brain has a way of dealing with the shit that goes on in your life, and I still think its my fault bc hashtag-mental-illness).

My third week of college, after going out for the previous two weekends and nothing happening besides some drunk making out with random frat guys, I went to another frat party with some girls who lived on the same floor as me who were mutual friends of another friend of mine. After about an hour and a half of being out, and after 3 light beers, I felt very drunk (now let me say, I am a semi lightweight, but I am not THAT much of a lightweight, I'm like 99% sure whatever was given to me was drugged because I was three Bud Lights in, and literally could not stand). After a few minutes of making out with a Afore Mentioned Frat Guy, he asked me if I wanted to go outside and smoke a cigarette. Being extremely intoxicated and not thinking anything of it, I said yes, and went out the front door, where multiple girls and multiple guys were. I was lead around the house where I fell down and I was assaulted. I vividly remember some other guy carrying a girl off on his shoulders and telling Frat Guy that "that's not nice" and he told me to shut up and just kept going. When he was done, he walked away, and I had to find my way back to the inside of the house. (NOT EASY) A Very Nice Gal asked me if I was okay, and offered to take me home because she was "worried" for me. I declined, and said I was going to go home soon.

After walking back into the living room, Another Afore Mentioned Frat Guy, offered to call me a beeper (which is like the student version of Uber here at App State) and even mentioned that he would call a female beeper to make sure I was safe. He did not call anyone, proceeded to pour vodka down my throat, told me the beeper was "running late" and offered to take me home himself. He walked me home, made me wait outside so he could let me in the side door of the building (living in a dorm, the front door which had our RA on duty sitting there was the only door unlocked after 8 pm), let me in, and led me to my room. I don't remember much (YA GIRL WAS BLACKED OUT BRO) , other than him biting me, me saying stop repeatedly, and eventually waking up, yes waking up, to him saying "babe, I just came in you". I passed back out. The next morning I woke up in pain (from THE BITING) and feeling awful, he was still in my bed, and after telling him to leave, he would not. I got up, started cleaning my room (I clean when I'm nervous/stressed) and still not knowing what to do, texted a mentor of mine (at 8 am) what had happened and that he was still in my bed. About two hours later, Frat Guy #2 got the memo that he was Not Wanted, and left. I took a shower because I felt gross and cried for 20 minutes, while he probably went home and told his buddies he got laid.

So now, I've done my #vulnerabilitymoment and if you've read this far I want to reiterate that whatever experiences you have they are valid, and you are so important. And also, #metoo.