2 counselors have told me I was sexually assaulted. But it’s hard for me to believe them. There’s things I remember about that night, and things I don’t remember. I remember telling him I was anxious before we started. I remember blood running down my legs because I wasn’t turned on, I was scared. I remember digging my fingernails into the wall. He had me turned around so he didn’t see my face. I pretended to be ok so he would just hurry up and be done and I could get out of there. I didn’t have my car and I felt trapped. What if I had said stop, and he didn’t? What if he would’ve gotten mad and I was stuck alone with him, in a city I didn’t normally go to? I think that was my thought. Even after he was done, he kept fucking me, I tried to get him away but he just shoved himself inside of me every time.

I feel violated. I feel like my body said no, but my brain just couldn’t get the words out. And because of that, it’s not valid to call it sexual assault or rape. Someone here said “take it as a learning lesson”.

It keeps me up. Remembering those details over and over and over, trying to rationalize it, beating myself up over what I could’ve done. What I should’ve done. I should have done more.