Sometimes I Wish I Had Been Raped
One of four hidden side effects of what had happened to me.
Many, many moons ago when I was a junior in high school, the most horrific thing happened to me. I was sexually assaulted on a school bus. A month ago, I wrote about what happened to me here:
I Was Sexually Assaulted — Speaking Out For The First Time Ever
When I was 16 years old, I was sexually assaulted. For years, I kept quiet. I am not keeping silent anymore.
Writing about what happened when I was just sixteen years old was one of the hardest things ever. I felt as if I was reliving what happened that day. But at the same time, I have been reliving what happened nearly every day since. Not a day goes by when flashes of that moment hit me, sometimes when I least expect it.
After what happened, I experienced these four side effects:
I felt like I was nothing more than an It.
What happened after that incident made me feel as if I was nothing more than an It. An object. A plaything. Something that was there purely for the amusement of others. I didn’t feel like I was a human being anymore. I could not even touch my own body without memories of that incident surfacing again. I felt very revolted by my own body.
I started wishing I had been raped.
I was sexually assaulted and yet I didn’t feel as if the incident was real. Obviously, it still felt surreal to me. You hear so much in the media about people getting raped, and not enough about people getting sexually assaulted. So, because I was just sexually assaulted, I felt as if it was not as valid as rape. Furthermore, in my mistaken belief, I felt that because I was only good enough to be sexually assaulted, I wasn’t good enough period. Because of that, I started wishing that I had been raped. Just so my feelings would have been considered valid. Because I felt that society did not take my experiences seriously.