She had assumed she was okay, that she had everything under control. All this had worked out perfectly until she found herself seated on a wet bathroom floor. Wet from both the water she’d been running on the shower and the  years of tears she had been holding back.
She didn’t want to close her eyes. Everytime she did all she saw was anguish,hate and a form of brokeness that was slowly killing her. She has let him touch her let do things to her that she shouldnt have. She had done things too things that the hot water on her skin couldn’t​ wash off. Things that no mouthwash could could cleanse and she despised herself.

She judged herself though she knew she had made the right choice. Saying yes this time had saved her from all the  violence that ussually followed her each team she resisted. She picked the lesser pain to her. To loose her dignity in a way no one would ever know instead of loosing it in a public way.

As she cried her soul out in the bathroom she thought of how many times she’d found herself in such a situation. She wondered if any other person had gone through what she had been going through for more that half of her life. You never get used to sexual assaults no matter how many times it happens.

First time she’d been assulted she had no idea what what happening. She was a seven year old girl who knew that something was wrong. She also knew she couldn’t tell anyone because she didn’t even know what she would say. Few years later when she was eleven it happened again and this time she knew what had happened. She got hat same feeling she’d had when she was seven and immediately knew that she had been assulted at seven at it was happening again. This time before she could tell anyone a story went down and she was the villain. The eleven year old guy who went kissing a boy in class during a class sleepover when the lights went out.

By the time she was sixteen she’d been though way too much to even love herself. She’d been through enough to know telling wasn’t helping. The type of questions they asked were condescending: what were you wearing ?have you had a one night stand before? did you say no?did you do something to trigger him? Is he your boyfriend? Were you alone together?

That is why when somewhere in her mid twenties she was raped by someone close to her shed didn’t even bother trying to report it she simply went to bed and tried to live life normal. That was working well until it wasn’t. That was how she found herself​ in this situation.

She knew she still had to be strong so get up,wrapped a towel on her body, put a few eyey drops in her eyes and walked out of that bathroom like she was okay. You see, she couldn’t tell her father because it would break his heart. The man loved her more than he loved himself and knowing he couldn’t protect his daughter would be just homicide. There’s no way she could tell her mom she on the other hand would just ask the same questions the hospital nurse had asked her and she wasn’t ready to be judged. 

She was done telling anyone since the last person she told called her a slut and went on to be in that very long list of people who molested her. 

The reality is so many women and girls are sexually assaulted ,slowly broken down by the brokeness in their souls. So hurt and alone by the fact that they have no one to tell what goes on in their lives without loosing their  dignity. Statistics prove that most people who are sexually assaulted don’t tell, more statistics show that people whole been sexually assaulted once also end up getting multiple adults in their lives.

This statistics shouldn’t be a reality they need to  change. Something needs to be done. There has to be a way to show love to all this people without breaking them or making them feel worse about themselves. Thing is it’s never their fault and no girl or woman should ever have to feel guilty for being assaulted.

#GIRL 51

#diaryof1000girls

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