My Sexual Assault Story

Today is the 29th of March, and like some people, last night as I was slowly drifting towards sleep, my mind decided to think about some deep shit in my past. It is a well my subconscious goes back to every now and then, and this time I got up, jotted a note to write about it today, and here I am. 
Forewarning this is a long read, but I appreciate those of my friends who stick it out to the end because it gets better!

We are two and a half days away from April, which is Sexual Assault Awareness Month (SAAM), and last year was a very busy time for me and a few friends working hard for the Durham Crisis Response Center and also planning the events leading up to Take Back The Night Durham 2017. Last year I didn't get to share my story at the Speak Out event we hosted at the end of April, and I said to myself, I will share it next year, it's no big deal...Well, here we are, it is next year and I am in a foreign country, haha! I feel strong enough now to say the words I secretly felt I couldn't last year because in some ways it still felt too fresh.
Now I feel strong enough to tell my story and to also say his name, keeping in mind that some of my friends are still friends with him, and I hope you understand that I just can't be.
Please note that in sharing my story, I am in no way asking anyone to go out and become vigilantes, I am doing this more for myself and to stop being fearful of saying his name.

Sadly, my story is not just one occurrence, but two. I honestly can't remember the exact year or how old I was, but I was somewhere between 5th grade and 7th grade and at least old enough to understand what was happening to me. 
I was on the bus ride home from school and sitting towards the back. I sat anywhere on the bus, wherever there was an open seat. There were a few guys around me and before I knew it, one guy was aggressively forcing himself on top of me and grabbing at my vagina. The thing I remember that has always stuck with me is the lack of help coming from other kids on the bus when I called out for it...nor help from the bus driver. The kid got off of me and off at his stop when it came and then mine came after that. I remember feeling so violated. I was hoping this would be the only experience I ever had to have where I lost control of myself and my body.

That unfortunately was not the case.

Fast forward to June 28, 2015. Some really good friends of mine had moved into their new home and invited me and a lot of their close friends over for a housewarming party. They always throw really nice get togethers and alcohol is usually involved, so I planned to spend the night well in advance. As the night progressed lots of food, alcohol, and laughs had been exchanged. The night was winding down and I set up my air mattress in the living room. There was another air mattress blown up next to mine that a woman slept on, another woman slept on the couch, and as the arrangements played out one guy, Bill Cox, that I had a crush on at that time, did not have a place to sleep. I invited him to share my air mattress, seeing as it was a Queen-size mattress and there was plenty of room for two to share. I wanted to cuddle with him, but was really too drunk to do anything else. He cuddled up close and at first it was nice, but then he began tracing his hand down and into my panties, mumbling things I couldn't quite understand. I was tired and we were in a room full of people, even drunk this hearkened back to my loss of virginity debacle that you can read back in one of my previous posts on The Lucky Three, and I was not feeling it. So, I pushed his hands away and told him to stop and to go to sleep, but he just forced his hands back, thrust his hips into my backside, and said things like, "you know you want this, and oh, c'mon!, etc.". I eventually was able to push his hands off of me and put a bit of a division between us with the sheets, but I refused to give up my own bed for him. So, on the farthest right side of the mattress I could go, I slept there in a ball. Shivering and feeling once again violated and gross. In the morning, I woke up next to my assailant and as soon as I could get out of the bed, I did. I changed clothes and tried to shake off what happened the night before. I told my friend, we will call her Jean, what happened the night before. Later that day, after driving back home, I messaged her and told her I still felt violated and just not okay. She volunteered for a rape crisis center and knew what happened before I could really put it into words and asked me if she could reach out to Bill and talk to him. I gave her permission to do so and later received a message on Facebook from Bill that said:
"Hello Emily, Jean was just telling me that was was an ass to you last night.  I don't think I've ever been that drunk and i have no idea what i did last night.  There is no excuse for any of what i did. I should not have drank so much and i am very sorry and ashamed that i was a jerk."
While I appreciated this apology, I honestly had SO MUCH running through my head after reading it that I could not respond. I still haven't. When I first read his message, I was angry, I wanted to yell at him, I wanted to cry because I know he meant it, but all I could do was read the message and then close it. 
While Bill did not rape me, he did sexually assault me. If you are unsure in this story where the sexual assault happened, it happened when I withdrew my consent and he continued to sexually grope me. I did not send mixed signals. I always communicate my sexual wants or withdrawals, and he did not listen. He took away my bodily autonomy that night and it took me a very long time to feel that sense of self and sexy again.

I am currently in my sixth year of celibacy because for a time after that night, I was not sexually active with myself nor found the idea of sex enticing. I was disgusted with myself and had been celibate at that time for three years, hoping to end that soon, but I regressed. The worst part was when I disclosed my assault story to someone I considered a very good friend, who does not know Bill, and all she did was dismiss me. I kept this story inside and it ate away at me. When I felt I was strong enough to see past it and felt comfortable enough in myself, I reached out a year later to the Durham Crisis Response Center (DCRC) and began volunteering with them as a volunteer hospital responder advocate for sexual assault and domestic violence victims. Those two years I was with DCRC before moving to Australia were the most therapeutic and fulfilling years. I felt at home with all of the lovely volunteers and felt like I was able to help other survivors in a small semblance of a way that Jean did for me. Along with volunteering with DCRC, I took a burlesque class and explored my own sexuality at an even deeper personal level. I learned to fully love myself and share that love onstage with sold out audiences. No fear, no shame, just LOVE and freedom of sexual expression. I am very thankful for my burlesque family and I am crying as I type this at the moment because without them, I honestly don't know if I would be where I am today. I love you so much, my Boom OR Bust family. You mean the world to me! 

Now that I am in Australia studying Sexology, I feel like I am surrounded by a new family and support network. I also finally feel sexually ready to explore sexual intimacy with someone other than myself...It is sad that it has taken nearly three years since my assault to get to this point, but I am glad I have made it to this point...and the only thing I have left to say is if you have ever been sexually assaulted, raped, or abused, I believe you and your story is important! I love you all! Now let's go take back the night this April!