Leaving high school back in 2016 opened up a world of opportunities for me, and I was ready to live my best life. I eventually moved out of my house with my grandparents and lived with a cousin that provided freedom like no other.
I thought my freedom was the reason that that night happened, and in return, I thought it was my fault. I thought that because I had made the decision to move away and go out every night, I deserved what happened to me.
It wasn't my fault. No one deserves this.
A few months after my high school graduation, and a few months into my new living arrangements, I had decided to hang out with a boy. I believed him when he told me we would just watch a movie and cuddle. Eventually, he was ready to continue and I was not.
I suppose I should have fought or kicked or scratched, but he was bigger than me and stronger. The most chilling part of that night was when he said, "I bet this makes you happy," while I was sobbing with tears running down my cheeks.
I had decided not to report the incident and to just try to forget it, but that didn't go so well. Recently, a friend mentioned that I could try to report if I had any evidence of what he said before and after the incident.
So I tried to find old messages. But it's been two years; nothing was left to find. I started a new conversation with him to see if he would send me the messages.
However, it didn't go well and he "still isn't sure" that he "actually" raped me. He even asked if I wanted to "hang out with him again and give it another try", and that made me realize something very important.
It was not and never will be my fault.
He is a disgusting person that did a disgusting thing to me, and he's too disgusting to admit it to himself.
Me coming over to cuddle and watch a movie at midnight is not an excuse for you to rape me. After the incident, I felt ashamed, disgusted, and embarrassed all with myself. It's so sad that it took me this long to realize that I've been blaming the wrong person.
I was able to shut out this experience for all the wrong reasons. I had blamed myself, I moved back in with my grandparents, and I stopped looking for a Prince Charming. I changed my whole life because of this one incident that made me think I deserved to be blamed.
I told a family member what happened to me, and she coldly said, "All of us have been touched at some point." As harsh as it seems, she's right. There are so many women and men that can relate to my #metoo story, and they all need to be heard.
I encourage people to speak about it when they're ready and try to find the closure that they need.
Speaking to him after a year and a half wasn't easy, but it helped me personally. I finally let myself be free from the power he held over me. It showed me that with all the growing and healing I've done to myself, he remains the same animal that raped me.
I didn't report my rape originally because I didn't feel like I had enough evidence, and I also felt like people would assume that it was my fault. Too many victims are forced into silence for the fear of not seeing justice even if they tried.
The messages that I was looking for as proof are long gone, but I'm going to do my best to make sure he gets the legal action he deserves.