At 25, I look back at the last six years of my life and see a road marked with pain, fear, and isolation. When I was 19, I experienced something that no one should ever have to go through—I was r@ped. That night, my life changed forever, but it wasn’t just the physical act that left scars. It was the emotional turmoil, the whispers of society, and the silence I wrapped myself in for years afterward that haunted me.
After the ass@ult, I carried the weight of shame, not only because of what happened to me but also because of what people around me seemed to believe. Growing up, I heard countless messages about how a woman’s worth is tied to her virg!nity. I remember hearing comments like, “If you’re no longer a v!rgin, you’re nothing,” or “A man will never respect you if you’re not pure.” These statements may seem like idle words, but they lingered in my mind, shaping the way I saw myself.
When I was r@ped, I didn’t just feel vi0lated physically; I felt as if my identity, my sense of self-worth, and my future had been stolen from me in a single, horrifying moment. I couldn’t stop thinking, Would anyone ever love me? Could I ever have a normal relationship? Could I ever be happy again?
For years, I pushed all these thoughts down, avoiding them because they hurt too much to confront. I became skilled at hiding my pain, even from myself. I convinced myself that d@ting, relationships, and love were no longer things that were meant for me. Every time a man showed interest, I immediately distanced myself. I would push him away, not because I didn’t long for companionship, but because I felt like I didn’t deserve it anymore.
I was damaged. I was “impure.” And in my mind, no man would ever love or respect someone like me.
This mentality led me to isolate myself emotionally. While my friends experienced love, d@ting, and relationships, I stayed on the sidelines, watching. I made excuses for why I wasn’t d@ting—I’m too busy, I’m not ready, or I just haven’t met the right person. But deep down, I knew the truth: I didn’t d@te because I was afraid. I was afraid of opening up, of being vulnerable, and of the possibility that no man would ever accept me because of what had been taken from me.
I’m not sure when it hit me, but after years of keeping my heart locked away, I realized that I couldn’t keep living this way. The pain of my past wasn’t going to magically disappear, and pushing people away wasn’t making me feel any better. In fact, it was making me feel worse. I felt isolated, lonely, and, at times, like I was unworthy of love.
It’s taken me a long time to admit this, but I need help to heal. I need to find a way to come to terms with what happened to me, not just so I can move forward, but so I can learn to love and be loved again. The pain of being raped at 19 isn’t something that can simply be forgotten, but I know now that I don’t have to let it define the rest of my life.
One of the biggest hurdles I face is the deeply ingrained belief that my worth as a woman is tied to my virginity. I’ve struggled to unlearn this toxic idea, but I’m starting to realize that it’s not true. My value isn’t determined by one terrible event that was completely beyond my control. I am more than what happened to me. I am a person deserving of love, respect, and happiness, just like anyone else.
I need to heal, not just for myself but so that I can open my heart to the possibility of love again. I know it won’t be easy. The thought of being vulnerable with someone, of trusting a man after what I’ve been through, still terrifies me. But I don’t want to live in fear forever. I want to believe that there is hope for me, that I can have a healthy, loving relationship someday.
I understand now that healing won’t happen overnight. It will take time, and I will need support from those who care about me and professionals who can guide me through this process. I want to work through the pain, the shame, and the fear so that I can stop pushing people away and start living the life I deserve.
It’s not easy to ask for help, but I’m reaching out because I don’t want to let what happened to me keep controlling my life. I want to heal, to rebuild my self-worth, and to find the courage to love again. I need to believe that there is more to me than my trauma, and that, despite everything, I am worthy of happiness.
