My parents did everything they could to explain sex to me. My mom bought a book on how to teach children about sex. Unfortunately, they taught me very little about consent or protection, two very important topics. I knew about the birth control pill for my mom took when she did not plan on pregnancy. I also knew that if someone had sex with me without my expressed permission, that was considered rape.

My middle school did a decent job on teaching us the science behind sex and explaining the topic of sexually transmitted diseases (STDs). The only protection I remember learning about was abstinence. They told us the same phrase for STDs, drugs, and alcohol. “The easiest way to stay safe is to not try it in the first place.” The only time anything similar to consent was mentioned was the day they separated the boys and the girls and told us about periods, puberty, and sex. “If someone is touching you inappropriately, like if an uncle or another close family member is stroking your breast or anything similar, tell an adult you trust.”

That was as far as my sex education went prior to the end of senior year, for I had transferred to a Catholic high school during sophomore year. I learned that premarital sex was a one-way ticket to Hell, and the birth control I had been taking for my otherwise uncontrollable acne was inherently evil. I learned a lot from friends and the internet (i.e. the existence of condoms), but I still had a lot to learn about consent. In fact, during high school, I did not know such a word existed.

I had one particular boyfriend in high school who went a few steps further than I had anticipated or was ready for. He told me “if I ever go too far, let me know. I really want this to work.” However, when I let him know he went too far, he either pretended not to hear me or stopped for a few minutes. He would ask me after “See, wasn’t that fun?” It wasn’t. My self-esteem plummeted following that experience. It felt as if my body was more important than the person inside, that boys only wanted girls for sex, and that I could never find a boy to care about me as a person.

I texted my guy friend telling him what was going on, that my boyfriend was pushing me farther than I wanted to go. That I wasn’t ready to go part of the way and definitely not ready to go the whole way. He didn’t understand why or how I wasn’t ready. He said I was being ridiculous because high school relationships are physical. He didn’t quite understand exactly what had happened, for I still didn’t know. I was depressed for a long time, and was upset with myself for overreacting. I didn’t have a full grasp of what had happened.

After finals my senior year and before graduation, my school had us go to a required “ladies’ day out” field trip. Senior girls from all of the schools met at a local college to learn about consent prior to college to prevent a tragedy from happening on campus. It was then the rules of consent were first presented to me. That was the day I learned something important about myself.

I am a victim of sexual assault.

I realize my particular case was minor, but I never wanted him to touch my boobs, lift up my shirt, or put his hand down my pants the first week of my first physical relationship. I told him no. Putting a name to that traumatic experience helped me to overcome the feelings of worthlessness, despair, and self-hatred. It helped me accept the situation for what it was and move forward.

That guy friend from before was the first person I told, a few months later. He was sympathetic to hear what had happened to me and furious with my ex-boyfriend for doing such a thing. I started telling more of my friends and realized talking about the situation helps me cope with the memory.

More cases like this can be prevented by more sex education in grade school. Had I learned about consent prior to high school, I would have broken up with that boy following his first offense. I would have put a name to what had happened to me immediately. I would not have felt so traumatized. I would not have blamed myself for what I had done. If consent is taught at the middle school level, it can help thousands of people like me tremendously.