Every year 321,500 Americans older than the age of 12 are sexually assaulted.

That equates to one sexual assault happening roughly every 98 seconds.

You never think it will be you.

I didn't consider that one day I could be assaulted until I became one of the 35.8% of teenage girls to be assaulted. Not only was I added to that sickening statistic, I became one of the 70% of cases that go unreported.

My mom and I tend to watch Law and Order: SVU often. One thing that always perplexed me about the show was how many of those girls had to be coaxed to file a report. Why wouldn't someone just report? It seemed so simple. It's not.

It's not that I didn't want to report, I just wasn't sure if I had actually been assaulted.

He was my friend. I never said no. He never even stuck his hand in my pants. All I knew about assault was that it often included some form of penetration. Almost four months after the incident took place, my therapist explained to me that I had in fact been sexually assaulted.

We were taking a walk in a park a couple weeks after my boyfriend had broken up with me. I had been talking about how heartbroken I felt at the time, how much I missed my boyfriend.

We both decided to take a seat on a log in the middle of the forest area and moments later, his arm was around me.

I didn't feel comfortable but I didn't want to hurt his feelings. After a while, I tried to scoot away from him and that's when he pulled me back and into his lap.

He lifted the top of my blouse slightly and commented on how nice my bra was. I felt so uncomfortable but I didn't know what to do.

His hands started to grope my breasts over my shirt. I felt stuck. I prayed someone would find their way to us so he would stop and I could leave.

I tried to sit up but he pulled me back down and kept his arm across my chest, pressing my shoulder down so I wouldn't be able to get up. All the whiile, he kept massaging my breasts.

In a struggle to stand up, I ended up turned onto my side, still in his lap.

He asked me if I liked to be spanked. I said I didn't but he still spanked me.

Eventually, I was able to get out of his grip and stand up. I told him my mom needed me home. After that, he agreed to drive me home.

On the walk back to his car he commented how I should be thankful for his friendship because "what other friends would willingly massage your boobs?"

I spent the rest of the day replaying what happened. Had I been assaulted or was I just a whore? Was he going to tell people? Was he going to over exaggerate what happened?

Did anything actually happen?

I wanted so badly to erase the memories from my mind. I felt so dirty, like I was covered in mud that wouldn't come off no matter how many showers I took.

I told myself that it wasn't that bad. Other girls have had it worse. At least I wasn't raped. I really had nothing to complain about.

I told a friend what happened and she shrugged it off. That was all I needed to convince myself that I was overreacting.

I tried to push it out of my mind and accept what happened but every time I saw the blouse I had been wearing that day in my drawer, I saw his face and I felt his arm pressing onto my chest. I could feel his hands gripping onto my breasts.

I didn't touch the shirt for months, I didn't even open the drawer it was in.

By the time I realized that I had been attacked, I didn't see the point in telling my mom or reporting it. I had deleted him off of all social media and he had graduated so, it wasn't like I was going to be seeing him anytime soon. Plus, I didn't want to waste the police's time on such a minor, insignificant incident.

Even worse, I didn't want to confront him because I was worried he'd be upset about me accusing him of assault. He had groped me and held me down against my will and yet, I was worried about hurting his feelings.

I'd like to say things have gotten better but they haven't. I still cringe when I see the shirt and I still feel stupid and tell myself I'm overreacting when I think about the incident and get teary.

This month is all about bringing awareness to sexual assault. It is so important to remind everyone that sexual assault isn't just this black and white thing. Victims shouldn't be confused and go through life wondering if they were even victims of anything. That is why I'm telling my story.