No means no, but silence doesn't mean yes-tough subject for me, but I think it needed to be said

     I honestly debated writing this, I thought it was too personal for even me to share. In all honesty I was ashamed, after all of these years I still feel ashamed about something that wasn't my fault. After a lot of thinking and praying I decided that i'm not the only person that has felt this and has gone through this so I'm going to mommy up and just put it out there to whatever criticism I might get. 
     For the last six years I have dreaded April 8th, when that day rolls around I want to lock myself in a dark room and just be left alone the whole day. I've tried to move on and forget it and for the most part I have pretty good life where I hardly ever think about that day and what was taken from me. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try I can't erase that day from my mind.
     It was April 8th six years ago, Easter Sunday to be exact. I was excited because my boyfriend was coming out to the house and we were going to go, for the first time as a couple to my family's Easter celebrations. I was so happy, we went shopping and I got a new outfit to wear and even baked a cake to contribute to the family buffet. I was twenty one years old and pretty much glowing about actually being a part of the holiday. It all started out wonderful, I was walking around with a smile on my face thinking everything was, for once going right, for once I wasn't going to be looked at as the anorexic cutter by my family, and then that sunny day went as dark as I could have ever imagined. 
     It was innocent enough, two young people making out each thinking they found the love of their life, or at least one of us thought that I guess. And, then things turned into something else. He pushed me down on the bed and I thought he was just playing around at first until I realized I couldn't get up. I laughed at first telling him to get off of me and his grip just tightened. He told me he knew I wanted it and everything would be okay and that was that. I begged him not to, I told him he was hurting me, that I had never, and all he did was tell me to relax and that he knew I wanted it. After realizing I couldn't fight him off I went somewhere else in my head praying it would just stop. When he finally let me up he acted like nothing happened. I grabbed my pants and I ran for the bathroom and locked the door. I fell apart in the shower I scrubbed until my skin was raw all the while he is knocking on the bathroom door asking when I would be out. I remember feeling like a robot getting out of the shower and walking into the other room where he was just sitting there watching television like nothing happened. 
     It took me hours to get him to leave having to feel him kiss me and hug me when I just wanted him to get away from me. When he left I didn't know what to do, I was ashamed and I knew I couldn't tell anyone, he shouldn't have been there while my parents were out of town. Maybe I could have stopped him, maybe this, maybe that...I went through everything in my head that all pointed the blame to me rather than the person it should have been pointed at. I kept silent as it ate me alive, I stopped sleeping in my bed, I couldn't handle eating or drinking because anything inside me made me vomit, and I cut and swallowed pills like I wanted to die. I think at that time I did want to die. What if someone found out, what would they think of me, I was just a dirty whore for what happened.
     That went on for about two weeks before I was invited back to Columbia to see a friend for a few days. The first day I was there she knew something was wrong, my wt was no where near stable and I was covered in cuts in places that mean business. She wasn't pushy about it, we went for a walk and as we were sitting on the swings at the playground things started to pour out, I had been waiting for a safe person to relieve me of this secret, to know why I was so ashamed. She was the first person to use the word rape...that word still turns my blood to ice. She gave me the courage to e mail my doctor who called me bright and early the next morning and had me in his office by two that afternoon. My secret was out and I was a train wreck. I wasn't crying or yelling, I was simply there hating myself, blaming myself for everything that happened. Sitting in the doctor's office was was rocking back and forth, knees drawn up as my doctor, who was like a father figure gently pushed for details. He asked me if I were safe and I just stared straight ahead. He asked me what my plan was and the shell I was at the time said in a flat voice that I was going to go swallow a bottle of pills and slit my wrists because I deserved to die, I was now unclean, tainted, and no one would ever want me again. Needless to say I found myself on my usual med unit with a sitter and a feeding tube and IV when I refused to take in any nourishment.
     Over the next few months I was forced to live in a Women's Shelter to hide from him and worked with detectives to try and get him to pay for what he did. In the end he admitted to what he did and the prosecuting attorney decided that wasn't enough to go to trial because it was still a he said she said case and those are always crap shoots who win. So, the guy who raped me, took my virginity was free and I lived in terror of him finding me again. I felt dirty, talking about it in groups wasn't helping, nothing helped. I couldn't let go of the fact that it wasn't my fault, I punished my body as harshly as I could thinking maybe I could eventually punish myself enough to forgive. 
     Here I am six years later and for the most part I don't think about that day, I'm not scared of him finding him anymore. I have a healthy relationship with my future husband and a beautiful son. I've learned that it wasn't my fault and I can say it now...I was raped. The night terrors are few and far between these days. I'm still uncomfortable around new guys and am extra cautious about who is in my house, but I've gotten through it. 
     I wrote this because I know that I am not the only one that has gone through this. I am not the only one who felt ashamed and couldn't tell anyone when it happened, I am not the only one who almost destroyed themselves because of rape, and I'm not the only one who survived. Rape is a very taboo subject, it makes people uncomfortable, but the fact of the matter is that it is another thing that we need to talk about. Did you know that roughly only four percent of rape cases get convictions? Did you know that most lawyers won't take a rape case to trial when it was the person's boyfriend or happened at a party? It often becomes he said, she said and they say that is hard to prove in court. Where does that leave us...the victims? We are left feeling like maybe we did do something wrong, maybe my no wasn't strong enough, maybe I gave him a signal he misunderstood, and this list goes on. But, the fact is we didn't do anything wrong...we said no, we  begged them to stop and they kept going and yet we still feel like we did something wrong. 
     We have to stand up against rape, it can't be taboo and silent because nothing gets done, it happens again and again and women don't come forward...it took me weeks to tell anyone. Women need to know there are safe places to go and safe people to talk to who will do whatever they can to help.  I lived in a Women's Shelter for over a month hiding from him, waiting for protection orders to go through and it wasn't easy, but I met some really amazingly strong women there, mothers who were raising babies who had escaped a man who was beating them everyday and eventually going to kill them. Every time I had to deal with the detectives or go to court for the protection order there were DOVE advocates there the whole way speaking for me when I thought I didn't have a voice. Helping women through this horrible time is what these people are trained for, they build safe houses for us, feed us, talk to us, and in my case drive out to the shelter in the middle of the night when I cut myself too deep and cleaned me up and sat up with me the rest of the night. These places require donations and funding to keep going and it is absolutely worth it. If you have never been a victim of rape or abuse I know it is hard to understand, but just think it happens  to everyone no matter their race, social class, age...it can happen to anyone. 
      Like I said I wasn't sure I could share this on here because it isn't something I talk about much. I have been a victim and I am now, like so many a survivor, but I carry it with me all the time. I have an understanding man in my life who is there with me when the night terrors break through or when he finds me in the bath scrubbing my skin raw. I got through this because of a great friend, a fantastic doctor, and the help of a whole group of people at the Women's Shelter who really just took me in as a mess and worked hard to help me overcome, to show me that I could be a survivor. It was not my fault and I am not dirty or ruined. And, I can tell you if you are a survivor of rape or abuse it is absolutely not your fault and you are a stronger person than you can possibly understand for getting back up and fighting through this. We are survivors and have nothing to be ashamed of. 

                                      NO MEANS NO, BUT SILENCE DOESN'T MEAN YES!