The Night That Changed Everything
I shared on social media recently about how shifting from “victim” to “survivor” opened my life up for me in so many ways. I thought this would be a good place and time to share what I spoke about at Dartmouth College’s Take Back the Night event in 2014.
For those of you who have not known me for a long time, I spent six years at Dartmouth College as an assistant swimming coach. The College holds the most special place in my heart as some of my truest friends were met there, including my dear friend who shared with me their deepest things, and taught me that I could do the same.
Speaking at the event was life changing for me. I was able to witness in real time how powerful speaking about one’s experience can be to a room full of people. The provost of the College came to me at the end and hugged me and thanked me for sharing my experience. She said that I helped shape young lives but what I had to say to the 100+ people who showed up on a rainy night in April.
If this article is helpful for one person, I am so glad to have published it. If it makes one person feel less alone, more connected, and more able to see that they too can move on from such a trauma, I’m glad to share it.
I am grateful for all that I have gained by experiencing the trauma of sexual assault. I have learned how deeply my strength and resilience runs. I have gained connections with other women. Maybe not the type of connection one would expect, but something that bonds on the deepest level. I am grateful for each and every one of you.
I would love to take some of your burden, as each of these people took mine on that night in April. Please, reach out. You are not alone.
Take Back the Night
Dartmouth College
April, 2014
I am many things. I wear many hats. I am a woman, a daughter, a friend. I am a swimmer and a crossfitter, a coach and a mentor. And with all of these things that I am, I am also a survivor.
I thought that it was safe. I thought that he was her friend, so nothing bad could happen. No means no. I haven’t done this before. I’m not ready.
“Let’s get this out of the way.”
It started like any Thursday. I went to work, I went to Pilates. I looked forward to going on a date. I changed into jeans and a black sweater that made me feel sexy. I was 23 years old. A virgin. I had been taught that if I respect myself and tell men that I was not ready, that I would be respected in return. I had been respected. I had never been pushed to do anything I didn’t want to do and the two most recent men I had dated actually respected me more for those virtues.
The choice to have sex was to be mine. It was to be important. It was to be a choice. One that I wanted to make, with the right person.
”Let’s get this out of the way.”
Those words ring through my head again and again, as I think back to that night. I didn’t drink much, and mostly didn’t because I was so surprised that he did. As we drove back to his house, I commented that I would be happy to drive.
“I work for the army. Even if we got pulled over, nothing would happen to me.”
I remembered those words when my parents asked me if I wanted to press charges.
“Let’s get this out of the way.”
After it happened, I tried to fall asleep, so shaken and shocked that I wasn’t even aware of what had actually transpired.
I left his house at six in the morning and it has taken me a long time to forgive myself for kissing him goodbye, just on the forehead. Somehow I thought I owed him something. He was still asleep and I felt like I wanted him to wake up, but was afraid to stay at the same time.
I hoped that he would call, to apologize, to check on me, anything. As Friday wore on and I worked through the lunch shift, I knew he wasn’t going to call and I didn’t want to see him. He never came. He never called. He never cared, at least not as far as I can tell.
“Let’s get this out of the way.”
It took me almost a week to realize that I had been raped. I hadn’t consented. I hadn’t wanted to do it. I remember waking up one morning wondering why I was so upset about that night. I looked in the mirror and said to myself, “you can’t get past it because you didn’t want it to begin with.”
I went into work that day and told my manager that I needed some time off and called my parents and drove home. I don’t think that I will ever forget the look on my father’s face when I told him what had happened to me. I have never seen so much pain, hatred and anger on anyone’s face, while still trying to show support and love.
“Do you want to press charges? What can we do? What do you need?”
“I work for he Army. Even if we get pulled over, nothing will happen to me.”
“I don’t know. It’s been a week. Nothing will come of it and I don’t wantto live through it over and over again.”
But I did. For almost ten years I lived it in every single relationship that I had with men. For almost ten years I considered myself a “victim”.
It took one special friend to make me realize that I couldn’t live that way anymore. I wanted to be able to share my struggles with him and felt that there was a wall there that I had put up and couldn’t figure out how to begin to break down.
That realization motivated me to start therapy, to learn how to find my own power.
Even with that goal, it took me two more years after entering therapy to use the word “survivor” in reference to myself.
What helped me the most? My friends. A very special group of very special girl friends who empowered me to hear the stories of others. They empowered me to accept my pain and to help me learn how to speak out. The support of my family and friends has made it possible for me to stand in front of you tonight.
To stand up for my rights, your rights, our rights.
The fight against sexual violence affects each and every one of us. If you have a friend, a teammate, a classmate, a professor, a dean, a coach, a mentor, anyone in your life that you respect, this is YOUR fight. Everyone deserves to live life free of fear and excited to experience love, lust, sex and everything that comes with it.
