"Boys Will Be Boys." Right?

A little triggering, sexual assault mentioning

I went to the police about a recent sexual assault. I was assaulted while intoxicated, unaware of what was happening. After I came out, 4 girls came out, not sharing their experience with the police. Simultaneously I understood them, I did not exactly want to either. I did because of the person I am. Despite the understanding I feel as if I am no longer representing myself alone, I feel I represent justice for these women too. Any women who didn't get it really. Yet I do still feel more alone than ever, I believe my purpose here is to help them find their peace, and a family, and that brings me comfort.

Having maturity, well articulation, and presenting myself with confidence has always led me to the role of being the voice for those who feel voiceless, powerless, and helpless, even my own. This earned me the position of being the, “strong one,” “wise one,” “the therapist,” I fought these titles my whole life, and me coming forward has brought me to acceptance of these well earned titles. It brought me not a newly found power, but an acknowledgement to how much power and punch my writing, my voice, my soul brings.

My family isn’t aware of any of this funny enough. I’ve told my sister in law, who agreed to not share my story. I've been an adult for about 5 weeks, I feel like it's been ages already. The amount of things I’ve faced range from chronic pain/illness all the way to being hit, almost bit, kicked, and cursed out by residents. Feeling as if I’m strong isn’t something I’ve experienced. I used to work on an alpaca farm, my manager referred to my life as, “my normal,” I am unable to see just how far I’ve come, how it's truly made me strong. All I am able to truly see is that this is my life. As a kid, being the black sheep of my family, being bullied, the start of my chronic pain, I promised myself to get through it. There is no other choice in my mind. That is why my voice is so powerful. I am humble, self-aware, very emotionally and mentally smart, it seems very unlikely that I am a fresh 18 year old. I know who I am, I know what my life means, I know what it will amount to. My mindset, voice, make me unstoppable. Any limit I set for myself, I surpass. Being told I care too much, I’m too mature, I’m going through too much, is very standard. As I sit here, I hope my assaulter is able to get the mental help he needs, and I still feel a rage like no other to him. I hate his guts, yet I hope he gets both consequences and the help he so desperately needs. I’ve learned of his fixation of nazis, I learned he is mentally unstable.

A conflict grows in my mind, between the fact I feel empathy for this sick man, I feel as if I see red, I feel alone, represent so many women by speaking out, and simultaneously find the sisters I’ve always craved in the worst way I could imagine. I grew up raised by a majority of men, from my older brothers, to my dad, to my brothers friends, I care deeply about everyone, yet there is a new found fear of every man in my life, the man I hope gets help, the man I hope spends time behind bars, did that too me. My voice will never be taken away, silenced, or ignored. This has been knowledge I’ve carried since I was young.

I feel more proud of every other woman involved, every woman who hasn't shared their story, in this case, or any other. Any girl or woman reading this who has been through it, who has seen it, and I know deep down that will be any female who reads this, I see you, I hear you, I am proud of you. Here’s to the battles we overcome silently or together.