She is four years old and she will soon start her first day of school. She’ll make friends. She will eat school lunch. She will live a normal life.

She is seven years old and her third grade crush just pushed her off the monkey bars. Her teacher told her it’s because he likes her. She will be fine. The bruises will heal.

She is in sixth grade now. Boys are mean to her. It’s because they like her though. The teachers tell her that her skirts are too short, but her and her mom spent a long time looking for the perfect ones. She bought them just so the boys in her grade would think she’s pretty. She really loved those skirts.

She is in eighth grade. The spring formal is coming up and she needs to find the perfect dress so the boy on her track team asks her to the dance.

….He didn’t ask her. He asked another girl and they are cute together.

She is now a freshman in high school. Suddenly, the world is so much smaller and everyone seems to know everything. Will they know how much she doesn’t like her arms? One boy told her she should shave them because hair on girls is unattractive. She made a friend though. He is really nice to her. She’s glad she’s finally fitting in.

Sophomore year is off to a great start. She has new friends and her friend from last year is now her best friend!

…..It looks like her best friend was only talking to her for so long because he liked her and wanted to hook up. When she told him she didn’t feel that way about him, he told her she was a bitch for not liking him, and that she was lucky enough that he even spent that much time on her. She didn’t ask him to do that? Is she even worth more than that?

Junior year is off to a rough start. She doesn’t have many friends but she has a boyfriend. He is great. He always brings her food and makes her laugh. He is perfect. She thinks she loves him. Prom is coming up. She’s so excited to ask her boyfriend to prom in a really cute way.

…Prom is a few weeks away — her boyfriend broke up with her. He said she was too bitchy and outspoken for him now. He said he wanted a girl who would give him the attention he needed. She thought she did that for him.

It’s the day of prom and her ex-boyfriend is there with her friend. They’re not that close of friends though, so it’s okay. He told her she looked really hot. She thought she looked really beautiful but now those kinds of adjectives are only saved for her mother and grandparents — not boys who used to love her.

Junior year is almost over. Her ex-boyfriend has asked her to go on a walk with him. He said he wants to let out the words left unsaid on his part. She obliged and met him where he asked. She told her mom where she was going. She told her friend. She wasn’t wearing anything promiscuous – it was cold out, only March. She even had a belt on. She did everything right. Still, in the back seats of his car, he raped her. He stole every last shred of self worth she thought she might have had. He took that from her. She loved him. He was her friend. How will she begin to describe how she feels when no one will understand until it happens to them? How does she tell her mom? Should she tell her mom? She should call her friend.

She’s a senior now. Everyone is talking about how great of a guy her ex-boyfriend is. They don’t know what he did to her. Maybe she’s over thinking it. Maybe she didn’t say no enough times. Maybe she shouldn’t have initially said yes, and then changed her mind. I mean it wasn’t really fair for her to amp him up like that then bail out. Right?

She is a young adult now. She has self worth. She matters. But she still feels that pain when she thinks back to the day it all happened. She likes to think that the sexism started way before she turned seventeen. She was six years old and they told her her shirt was too low cut and distracting for the boys in the class. She was six years old. Boys never got told that. What if their clothes distracted her? I guess that didn’t really matter because the single thing that mattered most in primary schooling was to make sure that those boys were not too distracted from their education. She has slowly been taught that her body is not hers. Her body is controlled by those who tell her what to do with it. Her body is everyone’s besides her own. Her shoulders are not to be shown in school, and if her skirt is a single centimeter too short, she is to go change or go home. Too much of her body showing will pull her out of her classrooms, away from her education, and into a pit of self degradation.

She was 17 when she was raped by a friend of hers. Telling this story about someone very close to me has been hard and challenging — not only for me, but of course, her as well. But right now, I want to dispose of the predisposition that all victims of sexual assault are sexually assaulted by a stranger. That is not true. You do not have to be drunk; you do not have to be wearing something “skimpy”; you do not have to do anything. Anyone can be a victim of sexual assault, for it is not about love, or affection, or lust: it is about power. It is about having power over someone.

Women are taught from day one that we are to remember our place. At the dinner table, my mother always sat closest to the kitchen and was to retrieve anything anyone needed. My father never stood up until he said he was finished. When I was aging into a young adult, my mother taught me to never, ever walk alone at night, and even if I was not alone, to ditch the whole “walking at night” idea together. I was taught to never wear anything too low cut because some people might take it as an invitation because it makes me look easy. Why did no one ever care to think about my level of intelligence and perception?

She is a person now. She does have rights. She has strength. She will succeed. She will be okay. She will move on. Sexual assault and rape is a progressively rising problem within the United States. According to RAINN (Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network), nearly one in every six women will be or has been a victim of sexual assault in their lifetime. Can you live with a statistic like that?

She is six years old again. Most lessons she has learned were not in the classroom. She has begun to experience what boys are like. If I could tell her six year old self one thing, it’s that not all lessons you learn are worth knowing. When you learn that boys who are mean to you, like you — it is not a lesson worth remembering. When you learn that your body is something to be ashamed of — it is not a lesson worth remembering. Learn to be courageous. Learn to speak your mind when and if you can. Always trust your gut, and never, ever, for a second doubt the fact that you are a strong and talented young girl. You have so much potential. You are beautiful, smart, kind, and prodigious.

Your bruises are healing. You are learning. The world is learning. We often try to think of the perfect moment to say to ourselves “this is it." We look for signs, clues, hints, anything to tell us that it’s the right time. But the truth is there is never a better time than the present to speak up about something you care about. If you care, convince others to care just as much as you and watch the world you thought was predetermined, change for the greater good.