Five years ago, something awful happened to me. I think about how I was at the wrong place at the wrong time and I relive the scenario wondering if there was something I could have done to prevent this from happening to myself. I know that there's nothing that I could have done, that I wasn't at fault for anything.... but sometimes I wonder.
Five years ago, I was making my way to a dance event at a university which my friends had invited me to come see. I had a ride up to the closest LRT station and made my way to downtown where I could transfer trains and meet up with my friends. I stood there with my iPod playing music and noticed in the corner of my eye a strange, dirty looking man in his middle ages looking at me and a wave of uncertainty washed over me.
The train finally came and I rushed into the car full of people, relieved... only until I saw that he got into the same car and was still staring directly at me. I moved away from him and impatiently waited to get off at my stop. Upon arriving at my destination I moved quickly and tried to stick to walking closely to groups of people. My headphones were still on, but my music was turned off. I looked around once, noticing that he wasn't around and briskly tried to make my way to the event where I knew, I would be safe surrounded by the company of a crowd of people and close friends. The groups I were moving behind quickly dispersed and I noticed the sun striking the shadows on the ground... a shadow that did not belong to me was quickly approaching me.
The next thing I know I was thrown to the ground, punches were being thrown in my face and I was being told by this disgusting old man to "shut up" as I was screaming for anyone to help me. I was trying to hit him back but being so small, his strength was outweighing mine. I remember a hand going up my skirt and trying to pull down my underwear - it was humiliating. I'm only thankful that he failed.
In reality, this was happening to me in a matter of minutes (10, perhaps?) - it's so strange thinking about how quickly and how slowly all of this happened. The last thing I remember of him is that his horrible person running for their lives and through blurred vision, a man asking me if I was okay and what my name was. We searched for my glasses, called my friend Jenny who I knew was going to the event and was therefore, close by.
I was brought into a room, where Jenny tried to comfort me and called my father. I saw him briefly before I entered an ambulance, brought to the hospital where I waited, was examined, questioned by police, visited by my family and friends and hours later, was released.
At the time of this event, I was 19, and for the next year, the Canadian courts and justice system kept me on my toes. I was given a police report to review before speaking at the trial. A sentence was passed months later and I was heavily disappointed in the results.
Spring of 2011 rolled by and I received news reports and messages from family about the release of my assailant.
And now here, in 2012, I'm writing this. Why? Because I want the world to know that I survived something that could have resulted in what could have been my rape, or my death. Not many people are vocal about the sexual abuse that are struck upon them and I hope to inspire people to not live their life in silence.
At the time of my assault I was 19 and I am now 24 and living happily and healthily. That isn't to say that all wounds heal with time. In fact, I have the scars and the ache in my head knowing that our justice system had failed me and that this monster who had beaten me senselessly could one day do it again. I will perhaps never find closure for what happened to me at all but I refuse to live in fear.
The last five years have lead me on a journey where many things were affected by what happened. From my relationships, friendships, decisions, and interactions. I can't change what happened to me, and I wish it never happened but it did and the best I can do is live with that life has given me and make the best of it.
And what is the best of it? Well in light of what happened, over 200 people that I knew (some I barely talked to,) had gathered to give me love and support. Although I knew these people cared about me, I never knew how much they loved me. I received flowers and messages from friends and strangers alike. These last five years have been some of the best of years because new and old friends have entered my life and have given me inspiration to look forward. I can honestly say that through the bad memories and scars, I still have never been happier than I am today thanks to everyone who has given me an ear, a shoulder to cry on and their continued support.
Five years ago, I was making my way to a dance event at a university which my friends had invited me to come see. I had a ride up to the closest LRT station and made my way to downtown where I could transfer trains and meet up with my friends. I stood there with my iPod playing music and noticed in the corner of my eye a strange, dirty looking man in his middle ages looking at me and a wave of uncertainty washed over me.
The train finally came and I rushed into the car full of people, relieved... only until I saw that he got into the same car and was still staring directly at me. I moved away from him and impatiently waited to get off at my stop. Upon arriving at my destination I moved quickly and tried to stick to walking closely to groups of people. My headphones were still on, but my music was turned off. I looked around once, noticing that he wasn't around and briskly tried to make my way to the event where I knew, I would be safe surrounded by the company of a crowd of people and close friends. The groups I were moving behind quickly dispersed and I noticed the sun striking the shadows on the ground... a shadow that did not belong to me was quickly approaching me.
The next thing I know I was thrown to the ground, punches were being thrown in my face and I was being told by this disgusting old man to "shut up" as I was screaming for anyone to help me. I was trying to hit him back but being so small, his strength was outweighing mine. I remember a hand going up my skirt and trying to pull down my underwear - it was humiliating. I'm only thankful that he failed.
In reality, this was happening to me in a matter of minutes (10, perhaps?) - it's so strange thinking about how quickly and how slowly all of this happened. The last thing I remember of him is that his horrible person running for their lives and through blurred vision, a man asking me if I was okay and what my name was. We searched for my glasses, called my friend Jenny who I knew was going to the event and was therefore, close by.
I was brought into a room, where Jenny tried to comfort me and called my father. I saw him briefly before I entered an ambulance, brought to the hospital where I waited, was examined, questioned by police, visited by my family and friends and hours later, was released.
At the time of this event, I was 19, and for the next year, the Canadian courts and justice system kept me on my toes. I was given a police report to review before speaking at the trial. A sentence was passed months later and I was heavily disappointed in the results.
Spring of 2011 rolled by and I received news reports and messages from family about the release of my assailant.
And now here, in 2012, I'm writing this. Why? Because I want the world to know that I survived something that could have resulted in what could have been my rape, or my death. Not many people are vocal about the sexual abuse that are struck upon them and I hope to inspire people to not live their life in silence.
At the time of my assault I was 19 and I am now 24 and living happily and healthily. That isn't to say that all wounds heal with time. In fact, I have the scars and the ache in my head knowing that our justice system had failed me and that this monster who had beaten me senselessly could one day do it again. I will perhaps never find closure for what happened to me at all but I refuse to live in fear.
The last five years have lead me on a journey where many things were affected by what happened. From my relationships, friendships, decisions, and interactions. I can't change what happened to me, and I wish it never happened but it did and the best I can do is live with that life has given me and make the best of it.
And what is the best of it? Well in light of what happened, over 200 people that I knew (some I barely talked to,) had gathered to give me love and support. Although I knew these people cared about me, I never knew how much they loved me. I received flowers and messages from friends and strangers alike. These last five years have been some of the best of years because new and old friends have entered my life and have given me inspiration to look forward. I can honestly say that through the bad memories and scars, I still have never been happier than I am today thanks to everyone who has given me an ear, a shoulder to cry on and their continued support.
