It’s time to talk about something that isn’t talked about nearly enough. In the wake of the Stanford rape case of Brock Turner, it’s time to talk about sexual assault on college campuses. More so it’s time to talk about the impact that the event has on the survivor. This is something that will follow me around for the rest of my life, and for anyone to take away from someone else's plight is ridiculous. I spent a lot of time debating writing this. I wrote it and rewrote it, un-wrote it but here is the nitty gritty full-frontal description of my sexual assault:

First, for those of you who don’t know, the “Red Zone” is the time at the beginning of the academic year where most sexual assaults on college campuses happen. At my college we went through an eye-opening orientation experience called “Booze, Sex and Reality Checks”. As it sounds we talked about all of those topics and as a first-generation student entering college it was something I needed to hear. One line stuck with me through it all “You might have a lot of sex, and most of it will probably be bad”. We talked about sexual assault, including scenes that may seem negligible but also discussed the ways these can lead to assault. The cautions went to the girls mostly, as they usually do. Nobody tells young queer youth, and according to some survey results, that they will experience sexual assault more often than their female counterparts, a still disproportionately high number. They tell young girls not to drink. We tell the “Family” (fellow queers) that we will watch out for each other. I didn’t realize that meant that we’ll protect perpetrators because they’ve been around longer.

So the reason we’re all here, the account of my sexual assault. I'm 5'10" 185 pounds and male, so sexual assault doesn't happen to me, that I can fight back, that this is my fault? Wrong. When I first got to college I was uncomfortable going out to parties as a queer because the fraternities that they are held at are notoriously unfriendly to Family. We went anyway. I’d get a couple drinks in before getting kicked out. I was usually non-confrontational enough that I could work my way out on my own and walk back to the dorms. I’d head somewhere else on campus with other friends to continue the party. This night was no exception. We grabbed an additional few drinks at some party that so-and-so was hosting. I decided to go home. I’d walk my girlfriends home, they’re the ones more likely to be assaulted. I’m male… or male-presenting at the very least chances were slim for me that I ever would be any kind of assaulted.

Did you know stalkers are kind of crafty? Well I don’t know that he was, but some days this is what I tell myself. I talked to an individual on Grindr, a known dating app often used for other means, who wanted to meet sometime, and definitely wanted to fuck me. Now at this time I hadn’t had any sexual intercourse past oral. I avoided his advances, but was curious if I ever would be ready to have sex, or have sex with him in particular. I left it the night before at “we’ll talk more later.”

Now just having communicated with him once before I expected to continue talking, try to figure out where he’d been from, and anything else I could scope on him. Did his friends like him? Was he trusted? A myriad of questions that I would ask people who may know him. Little did I know, he’d find me first. He pulled up somewhere on my way home. He pulled up with three other guys in his car. Two of which were roommates. The third was getting a ride home. He promised he wasn’t creepy or anything. His friends did too. That they just wanted to make sure I made it home safe. The lessons we learn I suppose. I was drunk enough that I found myself in the car. The rest of the ride was awkwardly quiet. A question was asked here or there. I was cogent enough that I could answer, but inebriated enough that it was a struggle. My head was heavy, probably lulling side to side as I tried to answer. All I had wanted to do was sleep. Anyway 7 minutes later I realized we weren’t going to my house. I don’t remember if I asked or not. We ended up somewhere off campus. I still don’t know where I was. He and the other car mates urged me into the house. I didn’t feel that I had any other option.

Upon entry they asked me if I’d like a beer or anything. I think I asked for water and a bed, I think I got a beer instead. Some time and chatting went by. I insisted I should go home and headed for the door. I was cut-off from this attempt. The friends insisted I should stay and the perpetrator offered his bed out of his kind heart. So my perpetrator took me into his bedroom. This is where the lies stopped. This is where the assault started. I wish I could say I fought back. I wish I could say I screamed. I wish I could say that I fought for myself in the same ways that other people do. I wish I could say I did anything but I couldn’t, but I didn’t. My pants were removed and so were his. He had me face down on his bed. He lubed me up and went for it. No foreplay even. I felt a sharp pain and my vision blacked out a little before I figured out that I had to breathe. Today I think that was my rectal muscles tearing, but I don’t know. I started to sob and gasp for breath, the louder I did so the more it urged him on so I found the strength to silence myself. He finished by cumming inside me. By this point I was conscious enough. I asked to gather my clothes and go to the bathroom, I’d feel more comfortable sleeping that way I told him. He allowed me to go. I used the restroom to clean up as much or little as I could. He remained in his bedroom. I used this chance to leave.

I still had my wallet, phone, and keys in my pants pockets. I headed out of this strange apartment complex somewhere off campus, what I assume to be sunnyside hill. I found a bus stop and I was in tears while waiting. I called my friend, Daisy, and told her that something serious just happened to me and once I got back to campus asked her if she’d sit with me so I could talk about it. I got on the bus confused and in tears (I think it was the “I” bus), the driver justifiably frustrated. He had probably assumed I was just another drunk college student. Luckily some girl talked to me long enough to get me to stadium way. I thanked her so much and got off the bus. I re-called my friend and asked her to meet me on the library. It was the halfway point. We got there and I sat down and just cried. She let me. When I finally found the air to breathe and talk I think I told her what happened. I’m not really sure. She asked if I wanted somewhere else to sleep. I told her I would just go home. I did. My roommate was asleep when I got there. I told myself that I was drunk enough still that I could chug the remainder of a fifth and hopefully blackout so that I wouldn’t remember any of the night. You can’t for starters. I did chug the fifth though; a choice that would give me what I presume now to be alcohol poisoning. I woke in the morning with my roommate and neighbor in our room staring at me with fright in their eyes.

They exhaled their sighs of relief when I woke up. They asked if I was feeling alright and I told them yes. After a second or two I asked why? They said something to the effect of because you should see yourself. I didn’t move, nor want to. They asked if I wanted to go to breakfast and I told them I would but they should wait because I was not moving very fast. Crawling down from my lofted bed I looked in the mirror to see the ghastly image of my own face. Grey and pallid I could easily see why they were concerned. I would spend the rest of the day vomiting and just trying to recover.

I would approach the way to go about reporting it with the office I worked for. They told me that would effectively remove me from my offices. This and a few follow-up messages from the perpetrator convinced me not to report. I was terrified of losing what little I had set-up for myself at this college. I’m told now that would have been a breach of title IX, but still, I didn’t report at the time. I’m not looking for justice. I’m not looking to get back at my perpetrator. I’m trying to move past this. I want to become an advocate. I want to be there for anyone else who may experience anything similar. I want to tell you assault happens. Happens to college students, to males, to queers. Sexual assault happens to people. It is not something that can be taken back. October will mark four long years since, and I’m just now starting to be ready to talk about this. I’ve spent plenty of time feeling the repercussions.

Those I told that knew him said he wouldn't do that, that I misread the situation. That he's too good of a guy. Well it happens, we all make choices in this life, that's part of being human, but small one-off choices don't excuse your actions. You don't get a one time free rape pass. That's not the way this works. You can't just choose to ignore the bad parts of someone. These choices we make may have life-long repercussions. In the same way that overdosing may kill on the first usage of an illicit substance, a bad choice may end your life. In particular and back to other cases where judges are giving lenient time, you can't just do that because they have a future ahead of them. I have a future ahead of me too, and I am fully aware that the choices I make could ruin that future. We all have choices we make now and unfortunately for some, their choices will change their life for the worse. This doesn't mean you should get off scot-free. The choice was made and the punishment should follow, that's what we all as independent agents should understand.

In response to the assault I started checking out more and drinking more. I ended up failing my next semester. I couldn’t afford college, I could barely get out of bed some days. I gave myself a concussion drinking. I hated the place for that reason. I tried having a lot of sex to find good sex. I’d transfer out for financial reasons but give my blessings in the same breath. I’ve added it to the list of reasons I can’t sleep. Sexual and romantic relations have become increasingly difficult for me. I am not broken goods, I am an individual who is still strong. I am not your pity party. I still stand up. I have come back from this and I just want to say the most powerful words I heard in response to this is you are strong, you are believed and you are not alone. For the first time I was called a survivor, not a victim.

The tipping point? I was at a conference this past weekend discussing campus issues. In a panel on sexual assault on campus I asked the panel “How do you hold administrators responsible?”, explaining that I had been assaulted. Explaining that I am part of the groups that we don’t hear from often enough. That I didn’t report because of what I was told. I couldn’t stand to ask the question, I was shaking too much. My heart was beating in my ears. I was terrified again. I asked though. My voice shook in tandem with my body and I was so scared of how I would be received; something that had silenced me before. One panelist looked me in the eyes and uttered those words, “You are strong, you are believed, you are not alone”.

I’ve left that college behind me, the one where the assault occurred, but its repercussions follow me still today. I’m now luckily still pursuing my education at a different college, and now it is time for me to become an advocate, to be someone who you can rely on, and to be someone you can talk to. If you ever need to talk find me, get my contact information. I am here, I am listening, and I want to help. More so you are strong, youare believed.

Additionally if you want more resources of where to turn look to these:

National Resources

Prevent Connect-http://www.preventconnect.org/

National Sexual Violence Resource Center- http://www.nsvrc.org/

National Resource Center on Domestic Violence- http://www.nrcdv.org/ Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE

One in Four (national rape prevention peer organization)- http://www.oneinfourusa.org/

U.S. Department of Justice- http://www.ovw.usdoj.gov/sexassault.htm

1 is 2 Many- https://www.whitehouse.gov/1is2many

Can I Kiss You?- http://www.canikissyou.com/index.html

SAFER Campus- http://www.safercampus.org/

No More- http://nomore.org/take-action/

National Alliance to End Sexual Violence- http://endsexualviolence.org/

Surviving in Numbers- www.survivinginnumbers.org/about

SurvJustice- www.survjustice.org

Start By Believing- www.startbybelieving.org

It's On Us- www.itsonus.org