Me too.

You know, I’ve never told anyone about my sexual assault before. Well, no one besides my therapist. But even that took four years to muster up the courage to do. My own husband doesn’t know. My mother. My friends. No one knows I go to therapy for PTSD rather than just depression and anxiety. Let me start by telling you a little backstory.

So it’s been six years since the assault now. Give or take some time. But reguardless it’s been a while since that night. I was a college student, just four months away from graduation. Man that degree was hell to get. Anyway, I met this girl, we’ll call her Susan. Susan and I quickly bonded and became the best of friends throughout college, we were going for the same degree. Susan had a child with this guy that we’ll call Dan. Now Dan wasn’t the best guy. He was on drugs and was in and out of his child’s life along with Susan’s life. It was a rough time for them. But I didn’t know this Dan guy too much aside from what Susan told me about him. Throughout our time in college Susan and I would go out together; shopping, eating, drinking, parties, sleepovers. I had the best times with Susan. She was an amazing friend and I miss her every single day.

Towards the end of our time in college, Susan invited me to a party where I would finally come face to face with Dan. I was excited to meet him because he was my best friends fiancé and the father of who I called my nephew. He seemed nice. Funny and outgoing, cracking jokes like he’s known me for years. I remember thinking, “hey I might be the third wheel, but we’re all going to be great friends.” We got in Dan’s truck and went to the party, which wasn’t far from Dan and Susan’s home. We stayed a few hours, had a few drinks, and lots of laughs. It was a good time to say the least. The three of us went back to Susan’s home where we ate some pizza before settling in for the night. Like always, I was laying on the couch playing on my phone before committing to going to bed for the night. Susan was already in her bed asleep. Dan came up to me and said, “hey, wanna make a beer run with me?the gas station is just down the road, there and back in no time!” I decided I would go. Now, was that a great decision? Obviously not. But with as gullible as I was back then, I got in his truck with the genuine thought that we would go to that gas station, grab some beer, and head back home.

He didn’t lie, we did go to the gas station and get beer. He also pumped some gas as I set in the passenger seat. It was cold. Very cold. 2am in the middle of January to be exact. I wasn’t too familiar with this area outside of Susan’s house. You see, I’m terrible at directions. I knew my way to Susan’s house and back home. No side roads or detours of any kind. So Dan gets back in the truck and we leave the gas station, to go back home. One thing I did know, is we were not taking the same path back home as we did to the gas station. I confronted him about it and he said “don’t you just love backroading and listening to music?” Although I did enjoy that, I started to feel uncomfortable. I asked him to get back to their house, and he said we were just having some fun.

Trigger warning: this is where sexual assault details come in.

Dan pulled his truck off the road and into a bushy area. My stomach sunk. I knew. I just knew. He started to kiss me and when I pushed away he said “you can’t tell me we don’t have a connection . I know you feel it too.” I made it very clear I did not feel a connection with my best friend’s fiancé. He then climbed over to my seat of the truck and started to unbuckle his pants. He managed to keep me still with his knees while doing that. He pulled the lever to lower my seat all the way back. Then he started to undo my pants. I kept saying “no! Stop! No no no!” His exact words were “the more you say ‘no’ the more I wanna do it.” And he did. He did whatever he wanted to do to me right then and there. I struggled, but it wasn’t any use. He was stronger than me. I mean of course he was, I’ve never been very strong in my life and now there’s a rather large man on top of me holding me down. There wasn’t much I could do other than just wait for it to end.

Finally, when he was finished, he calmly climbed over to the driver seat and said “that was some good p*ssy.” And drove me back to his house. I didn’t say a word. I was mentally numb and physically sore. All I could think about was Susan. I waited until I knew Dan was asleep before running out of the house and driving myself back to my own home. I tried to process what the hell just happened to me. It took me a while before I realized what happened was rape.

For the weeks following what happened, I was being harassed and stalked by this man. After several Facebook messages and texts and phone calls harassing me about what happened and saying he wanted it again, I got the courage to block him. After graduation I moved. I moved far away. I haven’t come back. Somehow Susan found out about all this, but she thinks I did it on purpose. Like I wanted it. In her mind, I’m just a slut who slept with her fiancé. Never a true friend. I wish so badly I could tell her what really happened. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. No one would, that’s why it’s never been reported to police and never will. I take medication to help with the anxiety and flashbacks. I’ve gotten to the point that I don’t see his face or hear his voice randomly throughout the day. But one things for certain, I will never completely heal from what this monster did to me.