'R' day

so then there is the day of...'R' day if you will. (if you are just joining us today boys and girls, i suggest reading yesterday's post first...bring you up to speed so to speak.) i never know what to expect from the day. today has been surprisingly ok. no highs, no lows. but the night is still young.

there was a long period of time after this night, 15 years ago, that i had no word for what had happened. previous to going to college i had never been given that type of vocabulary. i grew up in a time - not so long ago - when date rape and acquaintance rape just wasn't talked about. i always thought of it as some shady figure in a dark alley. even when i went to college, they all talked about 'not walking home alone'.

i guess you have to understand where i came from. it is a place i like to refer to as a suburban nightmare. i had been uprooted in the middle of 5th grade and moved an hour and a half north into a 'planned development' as we called them in the midwest...a.k.a. a neighborhood. it was a nice place to live. but is was small town america. everyone knew everyone else, everyone's parents grew up together and they had all been in diapers together at some point. don't get me wrong, i'm a midwestern girl all the way. but i grew up with people that talked the pc talk, but they didn't walk it. i found hypocrisy in many unexpected people.

when i got home that night i stumbled up to my parents room and kissed them goodnight like i always did. i crawled into bed still wearing my clothes. when i woke up the next morning i knew what i had done the night before as the scattered images came rushing back to me. i stumbled into the bathroom - wanting nothing more than to shower - to my waiting mother. 'were you drinking last night?' she asked. 'no mom.' ' i won't be angry. i just want to know - your dad said he smelled alcohol on your breath last night. did something happen?' 'no mom', was all i could manage. how could i tell her that i had gotten drunk, passed out, blacked out, and let some guy have sex with me? i was 15, and i was positive she would blame me and be angry and disappointed in me. when i think about that moment now, i scream for her to tell. but she never has.

i knew from that next morning that something about the night before didn't feel right. it wasn't until my sophomore year of college that i would call it rape.

how could i feel anything but dirty, guilty, angry at myself, when all around me people i knew, that were my 'friends' called me unspeakable things because of that night. because of other nights that didn't go that far and ones that did. i've heard 'slut' more than once. it's hard to not begin to believe it. it's even harder to forgive yourself for things that are not your fault.

in april of 1995 there was a women's march on washington. so we road tripped to dc from athens ohio. it was the first year i had begun to heal - to forgive. took nearly 5 years to take that first step.





15 years later and i'm still trying to move forward. sometimes it feels like i've only taken a few steps - but when i look back, i can see it's been so much more.