trigger warning – sexual assault Flashback to me at 22 years old, sitting in a cold chair in a dark room, shivering (either due to shock, fear, temperature or all of the above), waiting to be swabbed for DNA late at night following hours spent at the hospital with the police and emergency room staff reporting the sexual assault. I was then handed this pamphlet (I wish I still had it), but these words will stick with me forever. “An estimated 98 in 100 report a break-in to their car, and 1 in 100 report a break-in to their body,” read the first page of the pamphlet. The lady smiled at me and said, I was one of the lucky ones. I couldn’t believe that anyone would say that THIS is lucky. She told me so many don’t even get this far and at least I could have proof of what happened. I looked at the statistics on the flyer and my jaw dropped. Should I have felt brave as I was shaking? Should I have felt terrified for the others out there like me who didn’t tell anyone? Be sure to check out my next post for more details for my story #WhenIReported as part of an awareness campaign for @voicesinaction When I reported, it was the last place I wanted to be and couldn’t believe how I was treated…
#WhenIReported it was the hardest experience I’ve ever been through & not just the assault, but because of how I was treated when it came out. I was sexually assaulted by someone I considered family, though no blood relation, when I was 22 years old. I will go more into the morning after story, but for now I will skip to when it came out. That evening when I had arrived home, I called my best friend & told him it was an emergency. When he arrived, I told him I thought something might have happened (scared to admit it). He was very supportive, didn’t push, but also encouraged me to talk to someone close to me. He left, I called my mom, & I started pacing uncontrollably. No emotion, no direction, just in shock. My brother walked in the door and my body started shaking uncontrollably, screaming, “He raped me, he raped me!” now my whole body shaking, falling further to the ground with every step. Weak. Confused. Terrified. My mom came over & called the perpetrator’s sister-in-law who worked as a 911 operator because she’d know what to do. I didn’t want to break up my loved ones, & tried to convince them I wasn’t going to report it. They eventually convinced me & said, “we don’t victim blame in this family.” I was escorted to the hospital, told not to change or shower, & was checked in. When I got there, the cops asked me questions. The first question they said was “what were you wearing?” followed by “are you sure you didn’t lead him on?” “you didn’t give him any indication of consent?” As if they didn’t believe me while I was physically shaking in shock + fear, covered in bruises. I also did what was called a confrontation call later that week, where I was sitting next to a detective, calling my attacker, trying to get him to confess on recording for the trial. He admitted it, & even asked if he should kill himself. After, he got a lawyer, & came back saying I was mentally unstable + made the whole thing up. My “family” who didn’t “victim blame,” left me. My grandma asked me to drop charges because it was hurting “her family” while I cried & pleaded it happened. I lost 2/3 of my support system by the end. And that was only the beginning…