One year.
A sunny march morning, I wake up in a daze. My feet touch the floor and reality slams into me like a ton of bricks. My biggest problem today will be which flannel looks best with my boots for the concert tonight. I shake some Captain Crunch out into my bowl and stare out the window as my mind clears and I say thank you once again to God for allowing me to still be here today.
One year, today it has been one year.
In trauma, they always tell you “anniversaries will be the hardest.” But now that it has come, I do not believe it.
I have been advised to stay home today, take the day for myself, relax and not get “worked up” over things that I cannot change.
Originally I took this day off from work so that I could do just that. My plans were to stay home alone and sit. Take the day to sulk and get worked up about things that I cannot change.
But why should I do this? Why should I take an entire day and give the “man” that raped me so much power? I shouldn’t, that’s the answer.
Each year I will look at March 9 and remember. One day I will not remember every detail, I may not remember the words he spoke or what he wore, I may forget the bean sprouts and the shower curtain and the faint smell of puppy shampoo. But I will never forget the day or the person that emerged from inside of me because of it.
If I have said it once I have said it a hundred times; I am better because I was raped.
I am strong and courageous. I am beautiful and empowered. I am a SURVIVOR.
Rape is a horrific thing that I would not wish on my worst enemy. I am taking nothing away from that. But I took some of the sourest lemons and tried my hardest to make something that resembled lemonade out of them. I could have been killed, I could have been shattered, I could have been broken; but I was not.
So today, I will celebrate!
I will celebrate the one-year anniversary of my rape, and I will enjoy it.
I will throw my hands to the sky and thank God for leading me through a horrible journey and making me a better person for it.
Tonight I will laugh and sing with one of my best friends, the one that prayed for me even when she had no idea what she was praying for. I will hug my mom and dad a little tighter because they were helping me even when they didn’t realize it. But most importantly, I will celebrate.
No matter how many anniversaries go by, I will always be a rape victim. This is not something I can change and it is not something that I will hide.
Being a rape victim is something I will celebrate. I will charge forward and continue to tell my story and spread awareness so that those after me will know that they are not alone.
Tattooed on my left side there is a verse that I live by, James 1:2-4, which comes down to this-
The trials that you face will produce perseverance.
They always will, God will always be with me, and I will never stop celebrating my victim status.
I am who I am because of all I have been through and because of that, today I will celebrate.
Happy anniversary to me.
