"The shame, confusion, and self-hatred were overwhelming."

When I was 14 I was sexually assaulted by an older boy. 

I told my best friend immediately afterward and then we told my parents. We went to the police where I had to tell the story in detail numerous times. It was humiliating and terrifying. 

The case went to court where I had to tell the story to a jury of strangers as well as the boy involved, all while his attorney did everything he could to make the jurors, and me, believe that I wanted what happened. The boy actually confessed to the police immediately following the event but his attorney convinced the jury that he did so because he was pressured and scared. 

He was found not guilty which, to me, was essentially them telling me that I was the guilty one; I was just a slutty 14-year-old liar who panicked after losing her virginity. He was the real victim. 

Sure, I tried to get away when it was happening, I tried to push him off, but if I really didn’t want it I would have tried harder. I had nightmares every night and thought about it constantly. I was confused about why it was impacting me so much when an entire jury told me that nothing bad happened to me - so why was I making such a big deal out of nothing. 

The shame, confusion, and self-hatred were overwhelming. Then in college, I went to a party and had a couple of drinks. Two guys from the party offered to walk my roommate and me home. We said okay and once there they came up to hang out. I went to the bathroom and when I came out the two guys came into my room. One sat on my chest while the other had sex with me. They eventually left me on my bed covered in blood, confused and terrified. I again convinced myself it was my fault. It wasn’t a big deal and I shouldn’t be upset. I told no one. Ever. 

I’m now a 32-year-old pediatrician and still have horrible nightmares and feel like I must have deserved/wanted what happened.

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