I’m going to start by saying that this is going to be one of the most difficult articles I ever write. Although I’m struggling to get through this, I believe it is something that another person may need to hear to let them know they are not alone. I’m not claiming this will make things better if you have been or know someone who has been a victim of sexual assault, because there is nothing that can fully heal that wound.

Please watch Lady Gaga's "Til It Happens to You" video, even if you have already seen it, before you continue reading. This will help give you a visual context into what I’m about to get into.

I think it’s really hard to talk about such subjects in everyday life. I know that it’s not something that I talk about hardly at all unless it is brought up. However, I think the language and terms we use in our lives also creates difficulty in truly communicating what we mean. Legally, the actual definition of the word “rape” was changed in 2013. According to the Uniform Crime Report, the old definition stated “The carnal knowledge of a female forcibly and against her will.” Notice how many factors this leaves out, especially male victims. But it shows exactly how everyone talked about rape only a couple years ago. However, the new summary of the definition states: “Penetration, no matter how slight, of the vagina or anus with any body part or object, or oral penetration by a sex organ of another person, without the consent of the victim.”

But yet, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, rape is defined as “to force (someone) to have sex with you by using violence or the threat of violence” and the first known use of the term was in the 14^th century. However, when I searched the definition of “sexual assault,” Merriam-Webster defined it as “illegal sexual contact that usually involves force upon a person without consent or is inflicted upon a person who is incapable of giving consent (as because of age or physical or mental incapacity) or who places the assailant (as a doctor) in a position of trust or authority.” This definition wasn’t used until 1971. And the legal definition for sexual assault is “any type of sexual contact or behavior that occurs without the explicit consent of the recipient. Falling under the definition of sexual assault are sexual activities as forced sexual intercourse, forcible sodomy, child molestation, incest, fondling, and attempted rape.”

Obviously, our vocabulary on the subject needs to be a little clearer and specifically explain what it means. I know that for a lot of the people that I have had any discussions on this topic with, the term “rape” always meant penetration with a sexual organ, whereas sexual assault was just unwanted touching or penetration with a body part other than a sexual organ. In the discussions, the sexual organ was always the penis because we were talking about women being raped. However, I want to make this clear that men are assaulted and raped as well, whether by a female or another male. Women can also be raped by another female. So, the conversation needs to change to look at all sexes and genders and the situations that can occur.

The statistics of sexual assault are absolutely mind blowing. The fact that there is this much violation of another person’s body, along with their mind and soul, is completely unacceptable in a society that is supposed to be so “civilized.” Here are some facts from Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network before I start talking about my personal experience. RAINN is the nation’s largest anti-sexual assault organization.

• Forty-four percent of victims are under the age of 18, and 80 percent are under the age of 30.
• Every 107 seconds, another American is sexually assaulted.
• Each year, there are about 293,000 victims of sexual assault.
• Sixty-eight percent of sexual assault incidents are not reported to the police.
• Ninety-eight percent of rapists will never spend a day in jail or prison.
• Approximately four out of five assaults are committed by someone known to the victim.
• Forty-seven percent of rapists are a friend or acquaintance.

At this point, I almost want to ask you to watch the video again because I’m about to tell my side of the story and I want you to understand how worthless, hurt, and alone I felt during this time in my life. However, I know the video will never portray what I or any other person has ever gone through 100 percent accurately. I think that ultimately, I’m just trying to push attention elsewhere and trying to stall myself from talking about my experiences.

Because even after all this time, I’m still not okay. I’m not over it. I haven’t moved on. I’ve just learned how to function with the burning memory of it all hidden in the back of my mind.

I am not going to reveal his name here at all during the article. His name doesn't mean anything to the story, and it doesn't change anything that happened. I also don't want to throw any negative backlash onto him because we have gone separate ways, and I really hope his life is good and that he finds some sort of forgiveness for his actions. It's not coming from me, but I never want to wish someone to be condemned.

I have never defined myself as being raped. In my mind, I still define rape as being violated with a sexual organ, or in my case, my assailant’s penis. But that didn’t happen to me, and I don’t like comparing myself to someone who has experienced that. I can’t relate and I can never understand what that was like.

Looking up at the facts I just listed, I fall in the category of being under the age of 18, I didn’t report it to the police, and it was someone that I had known for a long time and friends with. I was 14, just a freshman in high school, when I experienced one of the most difficult moments of my life. The guy was someone a grade above me and was someone I played soccer with a majority of my life. He is also someone I had to deal with playing soccer with for the next two years of varsity until he graduated, and even then, he came back and helped out during my senior year. So, after the incident, I was forced to face him almost every single day. And every day, I just tried to hide what happened and pretended I was fine.

I had kind of had a relationship with the guy for a short time during the summer. But he didn’t want to date so I moved on. I eventually started dating another guy on the soccer team that went to our neighboring school. I hadn’t had anything romantic or sexual going on with my attacker for a while. We strictly just played soccer together and were teammates. But apparently, there was something else going on in his mind.

The day it happened, a group of us were going and watching the district game for high school soccer in our area. I wanted to get something to eat elsewhere because I didn’t want to pay a lot for the food at the stadium. The guy I rode with to the game didn’t want to take me, so I ended up going alone with the guy who would eventually give me nightmares and make me cry myself to sleep. I honestly didn’t think anything of it because we had been friends and seemed to understand that we weren’t going to date. I trusted him. We were having a decent conversation before he pulled into an empty sports park parking lot. When I turned and asked what we were doing, he proceeded to tell me a story about a neighboring church and talking about his friends. I just sat and listened and looked out at the building. I didn’t think anything of it other than he apparently really wanted to talk to me about this place. But then I felt his hands on me.

I’m not going to be descriptive, but a summary of the assault was him holding me down in the passenger seat while he started to remove my jeans. I tried to move to prevent him from touching me in my private area, but he was able to insert his fingers inside of me. I just started crying and asking him to stop. I kept moving and trying to push him off. Finally, with tears streaming down my face, I cried out to him and asked, "Why are you doing this to me?” Something must have triggered in his brain, because he looked up at me into my eyes. I can still see the look on his face. It was like he had finally come to realize what he was doing. He immediately got off me. I quickly pulled my shirt down and my pants back up.

He took me across the street to get something to drink so it looked like we had actually gone somewhere and that he hadn’t just violated me. I could see the clerk behind the counter looking at me oddly, trying to figure out why my eyes were watery. When I came back out, every part of me wanted to just run away, to go anywhere other than inside that vehicle. But I knew I had to get back to the game, so I slowly walked back and sat silently for the ride back.

When we walked into the stadium, I went to go sit next to my boyfriend, only to have my attacker take the spot. I don’t know why he did that, but it prevented me from being near someone who could have comforted me. I had apparently composed myself well enough because no one asked me anything. So, I just sat on the edge of the bleachers, staring blankly at the game, trying to talk about anything else to keep my mind from thinking about what had just happened.

On the drive home, my boyfriend and I sat in the back seat. He had wanted to kiss me and I just let him. I didn’t even know what to do. I was hoping that he could erase what had just happened, fill the memory with him and how he actually appreciated me. But it didn’t happen.

I was the last one to be dropped off that night. The driver was J.J., my current fiancé. I kept trying to talk about the game or just anything else. Again, I was trying to push everything about that moment from my mind.

J.J. didn’t answer me, though, and he hardly spoke at all because he was jealous about me and my boyfriend in the backseat. That was how I found out that J.J. liked me and wanted to be dating me. But his silence, no matter what the reason, was not what I needed. I started bawling my eyes out in the passenger seat. J.J. was one of my closest friends and I just started telling him all about it.

And after he heard it, J.J. wanted to hurt him. But I asked him not to. I begged him not to say anything. Why? Because there were already rumors going around about my attacker doing similar things to other girls. Some of those I know were lies, because I had been with him during the times in the summer when they said stuff happened. I don’t know if the others were true or not, but I know that the majority of the school thought all of those girls were liars. Why would they believe my story? There was nothing to make them believe me.

I never told my boyfriend and a week or so after, I broke up with him. I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t tell any of my friends other than J.J. until a month later. The only reason I even told her was because I was staying at her house and she heard me crying in the bathroom. She thought that I was upset, but in reality, I was in pain every single time I used the bathroom because his fingernails had cut me on the inside. She cornered me into talking about it, and I fell apart. But even she knew that a lot of people wouldn’t believe me. And after waiting all that time, it would definitely seem like a lie. But because of her, I started talking to my other friends about it. And I started to feel a little better because I was no longer fighting alone.

I started dating J.J. shortly after that because he was the only one that made me feel safe, however, he could tell there were definitely some trust issues. I was also really scared to do anything else other than kiss him for a while. He understood and gave me the time and space to become comfortable with a guy again. I don’t think I would have gotten through it like I did if I was with someone else. I owe him a lot.

I still think about that moment from time to time. I think about how hard it was to have to face him every single day and then play soccer with him for the next two seasons. When he came back to help during my senior year, I felt so sick to my stomach. But I still forced myself to deal with him. He’s apologized, but I don’t think he will ever truly understand what he did to me. An apology can’t erase it. I wish him the best, but I can't bring myself to forgive him.

The hardest thing I dealt with was feeling like I was worth more than how he treated me. I felt like I was just an object and that guys didn’t view me as a person. Having J.J. there really helped with that, but it didn’t erase my feelings of being worthless. I was constantly in pain, whether it was physically when I went to the bathroom, or emotionally. It took almost three months for the physical pain to go away, but emotionally, I am still dealing with it. Even as I write this, I find myself crying thinking about that day.

My advice to those who are friends or family of those victims, don’t tell them to just move on. It doesn’t work like that, and you will never truly understand. Even as someone who has gone through something like that, I can’t understand how another person feels. Each case is different, and each person handles it differently. You just need to be there. I felt extremely lost and alone until I had some friends stand there by my side and comfort me. I needed to relearn how to love myself and who I am, even with the dark part of my past. I made an effort to live again rather than hiding. It takes a while to be able to sleep without the nightmare coming back, but there will come a time when it won’t be as bad.

Sexual assault needs to stop, and the numbers are just ridiculous. However, I can’t change how the world is. I need everyone else to work together to get through this crazy life together. Help out those close to you, and don’t avoid the topic or the question because it’s “difficult.” You could save someone’s life by just stepping up and being there during the hard times. Many people won’t willingly talk about it. I really don’t like talking about it, but I want people to know they are not alone. I have gone through it, and plenty of others are out there. There are helplines that are there for you wanting to help.

Call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.

Always remember that you are worth more than anything you imagine. You are not alone. Things do get better in time, but that’s only because you learn to exist with your past. You learn to function with the memory. Love yourself no matter how hard it is. This goes to every single person, no matter their sex, gender, age, race, economic class, etc. As a human, you are worth more than any negative thing someone could do to you. I may not know you or know how you feel, but I know that you deserve a better life than that of a victim.