Turning Grief into Growth

[TW : SA]

I was raped.

These are words I never thought I’d say. I was raped when I was 18 years young. It took me 14 years and therapy to work through such a traumatic and life-altering event, but I’ve come so far just over the last year. While striving to be my unapologetic, authentic self, I’ve come to realize that this is the time. This is the time I speak up and share about my experiences. I am not speaking up in hopes of people pitying me, rather I want people to know that they are not alone. Often times, we are silenced, whether intentionally or not. People tend to not like when others share such personal and heavy events with the public. But that is not me. I’m used to going against the grain and doing things differently than others.

Back in my freshman year of college, I made many friends. Or who I thought were my friends. In my first semester, I focused more on friendships and living the college life, than my actual classes. But, I had to medically withdraw for 6 months so that I could work to resolve my health issues. After withdrawing, I lived close to campus for a short period of time, while I got my ducks in a row to move back home to CA where I had healthcare.

One night I was on campus for an event. I think it was a hockey game. I began to develop a pretty bad headache and it was too late to ask my cousin to pick me up, so my 2 friends offered to let me crash in their dorm room on the floor. At the time, I didn’t see red flags, because these were 2 guys that I thought I trusted. They gave me no reason to not trust them and they were doing me a favor by giving me a place to try to sleep off my headache. It has taken me years to accept that this was NOT MY FAULT. I was doing what I thought was best at the time.

One of my friends gave me NyQuil since they didn’t have ibuprofen. I just wanted to knock out and try to kick the headache. He gave me what I thought was a single dose, but later I realized he gave me much more than that. I felt safe, and didn’t feel like he was a threat since he was roommates with my other friend and they were both there. They fell asleep in their beds, and I knocked out hard on the floor after a long day. I suddenly woke up to one of the guys on top of me. I was freaked out, but I was also really groggy from the NyQuil. I called my cousin asking her to please pick me up, but at the time I didn’t know how to process what had just happened to me.

I contacted the guy soon after, and he claimed he had no idea he did that because he was “really drunk”. But, despite his faulty memory, he picked up a Plan B pill for me because I demanded it. At 18 years old, I was barely learning how to live life independently. I finally had moved out of my parents’ house and was living 2 states away in Utah. I didn’t know how to process being raped. So instead, I decided to keep it quiet. I thought by hiding it, I would eventually heal and move forward. No one had to know. I felt SO guilty and embarrassed, and thought I had brought it upon myself.

After it happened, I immediately told my cousin, who was also like a best friend to me. She was the sweetest and said she would support me no matter what. I ended up taking the Plan B pill a couple of days later, but it did not stop a pregnancy, as it should have. After everything happened, I moved back home to CA. I enrolled at a local community college, worked at a gym daycare, hoping that life would just move forward. Little did I realize that I was pregnant. Once I moved back to CA I started experiencing some early pregnancy symptoms. I secretly bought a few tests (I didn’t tell anyone I was even taking it) and discovered that I was indeed pregnant.

At 18 years old, while I was still trying to find myself, I was very conflicted. Do I tell others? Am I going to keep the baby, a product of rape? What do I do? As I was trying to decide how to move forward, I unfortunately had a miscarriage. Although I was devastated because I always wanted to be a mom, I was also relieved. At that time, I decided not to tell anyone, and to try to work through my grief on my own.

Do I regret not telling others? Do I regret not reporting it? Yes I do. But at the time, I made decisions that I felt were best. I’m here now. Sharing my story. Therapy is amazing. I had no idea how life-changing it would be until I did it. Therapy is what helped me get to where I am now. I can’t believe things have come full circle and I finally have the strength to speak up. I’ve finally been able to process everything and understand that it was not my fault. I am no longer ashamed of myself. IT HAPPENED. I can’t go back in time. I can only move forward. I am so proud of myself and how far I’ve come, especially over the last year. Life is precious. Really. Stop worrying about the little things. Appreciate them! You’re alive. You’re here.

That fateful night back in 2007, he stole my virginity. He stole my ability to give or not give my consent. He stole my ability to share such an intimate moment with someone I loved, on my own terms. But despite that, he did not steal my story. I am so grateful I am still here and can share what happened to me. I know I’m lucky and not everyone has the same opportunity.

Grief is a funny thing. Some days it hits a little bit harder, sometimes it hits me out of nowhere. I grieve that loss every single day. But, I know that everything happens for a reason and my reason is this - being able to share something so devastating, so difficult, with YOU. Thank you for taking the time to join my on this journey called life.

Thank you also to my wonderful husband who loves and supports me no matter what. We knew that by me sharing this, it would be quite heavy and hard to hear, but I think it NEEDS to be heard. The ramifications of making something like this so public can be scary, but I think it is totally worth it.

My story doesn’t end here. My healing doesn’t end here. I still am on that journey, but I am moving forward. It weighs on my heart every day, the child I was never able to meet, the years I lost myself because I was grieving at the same time that I was trying to heal from being raped. Although the grief may never go away, I am still growing and moving forward.

I am healing. I am alive. I am blessed.

Read more about my healing journey.

xoxo Shannon