When I was younger, I was taught that if I didn’t want to do something that I should just say no. Now, the word ‘no’ may be short and simple, but it packs on a whole lot of meaning. In the fifth grade, my entire class was involved in the D.A.R.E. program, which prepared us on how to resist drugs and alcohol and say that magic word—you guessed it—no. The program was focused on not just our resistance, but being confident enough to have the ability to push something that’s being forced onto us away. Drugs and alcohol? I could say no to those things, no problem! But, what about saying no to somebody you knew and somebody who wasn't forcing drugs on you? How do you say no to them?

I was 15 years old and you were 18. I had the biggest crush on you for the entire school year, knowing I never had a shot in hell. I was buried pretty deep into the friend-zone with you, but when you had finally graduated you asked me to be your girlfriend. I had no idea where it had come from, but I sure as hell wasn’t about to turn you away.

So one day you came over and you made your first move. I wasn’t sure how I felt, because everything just felt so new to me. I had never done anything other than kiss a boy before and I didn’t wanna say no because I didn’t want to push you away, so I let you make your move. It wasn’t until you climbed on top of me, and tried to start something I was in no way shape or form prepared for that I had finally said no—and that clearly wasn’t a word you understood. “C’mon, it’s nothing. Let me just do it. It’ll be fine.” “No, I’m not ready.” “Jess, come on. Trust me.” “Get off of me, I don’t want to do this.” “Jess, it’ll be worth it.”

You wouldn’t get off until I had to physically push you—because me saying no wasn’t enough. You left that day upset with me, and then I began to think that maybe I did something wrong. I had waited almost a year to have a chance with you, and I was terrified that I blew it. I kept thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have said no, and let you have your way with me. Like it's such a big shock to believe—we broke up three days after. To top it all off, you cheated on me after I had said that one important word, because you decided that if you couldn't get a yes from me, you would go to someone who would.

For the rest of that summer, I stayed in my bedroom crying night after night. I fell into one of the deepest depressions I’ve ever had. All I did was blame myself for your dishonesty, your lack of respect, and your forceful methods. I replayed that day in mind thinking about what I could have done differently. I just wanted to disappear. I was nothing but a screw-up, a loser, a failure; I was just worthless. I wasn’t worth anything more to you than a cheap shot. You had taken every bit of self-esteem and strength that I ever had and threw it onto the floor, stomping all over it and crushing it to pieces. I hadn't really ever talked about any of this until now because I was ashamed of how you treated me and embarrassed that I let myself trust you so quickly. I was afraid to admit that a boy like you really destroyed me as much as you did. I didn't wanna look weaker than I already was.

I’m pretty sure you don’t recall any of this, because it wasn’t a big deal to you. But to me, this was traumatic. I’m one of those people who believes in the good in everyone, and you were the last person I expected to have such a dark side. It took me almost a year to accept what had happened and to finally realize that it was never ever my fault. It wasn’t my fault that you weren’t okay with me not being ready five days into our new relationship. It wasn’t my fault you didn’t respect me. I had done the right thing. I said no to something I wasn’t comfortable with like I was taught to do when I was growing up.

I’m one to give the benefit of doubt, and I’m hoping that maybe you grew up. Five years is a long time, and I know I’m not the same girl I was at 15, and I wish for your sake that you’re not the same guy you were at 18. I hope that you’ve learned from all of the “nos” I can imagine you’ve heard in the past. I hope something happened and you realized that forcing yourself onto girls is not okay, because I can only guess how many others you did this too and how many didn’t get you off like I did.

I was lucky, and was able to escape a situation that could’ve became ten times worse. Not everyone, including some people who I hold near and dear to my heart, have been able to. According to the U.S. Department of Justice’s National Crime Victimization Survey, there is an average of 293,066 victims of rape and sexual assault each year. When doing the math, that’s 1 sexual assault every 107 seconds. If you or anyone you know has ever been assaulted, please know this; It is not your fault. No matter what you wore, or who you befriended, or how much you decided to drink; it is not your fault. It doesn’t matter if you’re white, black, straight, gay, bisexual, female, male, transgender, binary, single, married, or any other kind of description you could think of; it is not your fault. And if you ever need somebody to talk to, I will always listen. I don’t care if we are close like family or we have never spoken two words to each other, I’m here for you.

If you are looking for someone to help you through this difficult time and you feel as if you have nowhere to turn, the number for the National Sexual Assault is Hotline is 1-800-656.HOPE (4673.)