Last week, we were laughing about boys and sharing stories about our week when you told me you were assaulted. You didn’t say it in those exact words, but you knew, and I knew. And I just want to say I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that that happened to you.
That instead of jumping up to hug you, I got silent. That my own memories of rape and verbal abuse overpowered any ability I had to focus on you in that moment. That I doubt anyone has come forward to give you the next steps towards healing and reporting, because I don’t really think anyone knows what to do.
That someone you liked, maybe even loved, used that fact against you to harm you. That your effortless and graceful beauty was thrown in your face, and you were told that it wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so “irresistible”.
That you were afraid to tell someone.
That anyone would ever blame you for being alone in a room with him, as if it isn’t a common thing to do. That he saw you as just a body, took your cries and pleas and twisted them in his head into pleasure and power. That this is such a common occurrence it almost becomes commonplace, and we have to declare the entire month of April Sexual Assault Awareness Month just to alert the world that YES, THIS IS STILL AN ISSUE.
That we know this has happened to too many of our friends. That on our college campus, the statistic holds true- 1 in 4 girls is sexually assaulted. That yet despite all of these stories we hold heavy in our hearts, there were only two reported rapes on campus last year. That the stigma is still so strong we stay silent. I am so sorry this is the world we live in.
I love you, and we won’t stop fighting.