“In the beginning…”

In the beginning, I thought I could grow from having a friend with such different values. I thought pushing boundaries was making me a better person, so long as I was respected. I thought I was respected. After it happened, I began to fear. I feared that we were never friends, that I was always a prospect. I feared that any man who approached me to be friends would hurt me the same way. I feared most of all, my own desires, that to still crave intimacy even when it had hurt me so much meant that my experience had broken me. And maybe it did, for a time. Healing was and is nonlinear. The first time safe arms held me, I felt encaged. Sometimes, though rarely, I still do. Patient partners have helped me relearn my body. And I'm not the same as I was then. I hold my boundaries. I know what it is to be respected. I know what it is to not shrink under somebody else. I know what it is to grow.

“Freshman year, I became close friends with someone with a very different social and political background than mine. We debated societal norms, gender roles, cultural relativism. We'd even talked about an assault I'd experienced, and he had been shaken and supportive. He was the last person I expected to pressure me to drink, isolate me at a party, grope me, try to manipulate me into staying. His excuse when I confronted him months later was that he didn't realize where his hands were. His fear was that I would tell people and jeopardize his leadership positions. I give him, and anyone, no excuses. I am learning to live outside my fear. “ - LYH