Testimony by Brittany Moore
Throughout college, I studied rape. I studied domestic violence, molestation, sexual violence; you name it. I put a name to the actions, and slowly started to realize that I saw all of that first hand at my home growing up. Sometimes you don’t realize exactly what happened to you until you learn about it. It makes you feel sad, uncomfortable, scared, angry- but you don’t know what to name it, or even if it was right or wrong.
I felt the same way about rape. It hadn’t happened to me yet, but a few of my friends were raped and the number grew every year I was in school.
I honestly never thought it would ever happen to me. Not because I was armed with knowledge of the act and how to get away, but because I knew I wasn’t pretty enough. I am, and was, overweight and have never saw myself as beautiful so I assumed that I wouldn’t be a target. My mistake, I suppose, was in thinking that even rapists had standards that I didn’t meet.
My junior year, on Christmas Eve, I went to a party back home with several co-workers from my high school job. We were having a great time and got a bit drunk. One guy in particular kept staring at me, but I thought nothing about it. Once I went upstairs to use the bathroom, he apparently followed me. He came into the bathroom and used his body to block the door.
It was truly an out of body experience. I felt disconnected to my body, and watched what was happening from above.
Once he was finished, i slide from the toilet seat down to the floor, and saw all my blood on the toilet seat- I was a virgin. He told me over and over not to be mad, that this happens all the time, and that nothing wrong happened. Through my hazy drunk mind, things were processing slowly. I couldn’t say a word as my rapist ran out the door with both my dignity and my virginity.
Later that night, we were all asleep in various rooms downstairs. I fell asleep on a sofa chair and leg cushion. I woke on three separate occasions to a different boy trying to force himself inside me while I was asleep.
That morning, I talked with one of the other girls about what had happened the night before. All she said was “Oh, don’t worry about it! He does that all the time.”
And that was the last time I ever went to one of those parties.
For a while I really struggled with what had happened. I was angry at him, angry at the rest of the boys at the party, and especially angry with myself. All I could think is that it was partially my fault because I was drunk. If I had been sober I certainly would have been able to physically push him away. But slowly I have gotten over that. I’m able to sleep, eat, cry again. And I certainly no longer blame myself in any way. I know many people struggle with rape when it happens at a party or if they were drunk. But the reality is that I am allowed to drink, but he is not allowed to do whatever he wants with a drunken girl.
I hope that those who were/are in my position also realize that. You didn’t ask for him to have sex with you and you didn’t want it. No matter if you were drinking or not, that’s rape. So let go of blaming yourself and start focuses on surviving, healing, and thriving.