Coming to Terms with My Sexual Assault: A Journey of Healing

As the #MeToo movement began to gain momentum, I found myself deeply entrenched in the world of journalism, where countless stories of women bravely sharing their experiences with abuse filled the headlines. These narratives, whether about a single incident or years of torment, resonated profoundly, encouraging women to find their voices and speak out. Yet, as I absorbed these stories, I felt an unsettling conflict within me. The accounts I encountered often triggered waves of anxiety and panic, stirring emotions I had long suppressed.

A haunting recollection emerged—an experience of being intoxicated at a friend’s gathering, abandoned by a companion, and waking up to find myself in a vulnerable situation with someone who violated my boundaries. The realization struck like a match igniting a fire within me, igniting feelings I had buried deep.

Throughout my life, I had often repressed painful memories. My childhood was marred by emotional trauma, leaving me with fragmented recollections that felt like a puzzle missing many pieces. My therapist described this as a “PTSD coping mechanism,” where my mind chose to obscure the pain rather than relive it.

Years passed, and my instinct to block out my sexual assault persisted. I internalized a narrative that it wasn’t “real” assault. Instead, I shifted the blame onto myself, my friend, the alcohol, and even the circumstances surrounding the incident. I believed I was at fault for lying to my parents about my whereabouts or for the outfit I wore that night.

Victim-blaming is a pervasive issue, more common than I once thought. Many survivors hesitate to report assaults, fearing the potential for re-traumatization. I, too, felt that way at the time. I didn’t even consider what happened to me as sexual assault because it didn’t fit my narrow definition of rape.

In my teenage understanding, sexual assault equated to rape, and since I hadn’t engaged in intercourse, I dismissed my experience as something insignificant. I felt foolish and guilty for what had transpired. I remember being at a friend’s house, playing drinking games, surrounded by friends, only to find myself alone with a guy who became aggressive. My memories of that night are hazy, fragmented by trauma, but I vividly recall the struggle to escape, his weight pinning me down, my desperate cries for help met with silence. My friends, when I confided in them, responded with blame instead of support. They told me I should have just gone along with it, that I had ruined the evening, and I felt cast aside.

It took nearly a decade for me to truly confront the reality of my experience as sexual assault. I had to unlearn the harmful beliefs that had been ingrained in me—that I was to blame, that I had done something wrong, and that my “no” didn’t matter. I learned that it’s not only the perpetrator who bears responsibility but also the enablers who surround them.

Coming to terms with my assault has been a long and painful journey, one that still affects how I view my body and my sexuality today. I now understand that I am not alone and that acknowledging my trauma is a vital step toward healing.

If you’re navigating similar feelings, know that you’re not alone, and there are resources available to help. For more insights into home insemination, check out this other blog post. Additionally, if you’re exploring pregnancy options, Make a Mom offers comprehensive information on at-home insemination kits. For further guidance on treating infertility, visit ACOG, an excellent resource.

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In summary, my journey to accepting my experience as sexual assault has been long and challenging, but it has ultimately led to healing and understanding. The narratives we share and the support we offer each other can make a difference in breaking the silence around these experiences.

Keyphrase: Coming to terms with sexual assault

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