The Aftermath - Marquita Antoineá

Sexual Abuse

The Aftermath

Take a moment to imagine yourself as a young, intelligent but beautifully naive female college freshman away from home for the first time. Imagine having that first taste of freedom and wanting nothing more than to fit in. Imagine being invited to a huge party near campus that everyone was talking about. Imagine taking your time to pick the perfect outfit and to fix your hair in the perfect style. Imagine getting to the party and having a great time. Imagine the perfect night.

Can you imagine it? Good.

Now imagine that perfect night being turned into an ugly nightmare all of a sudden. Imagine saying no and not being taken seriously. Imagine trying to push and fight and kick and scream, but then being overpowered by someone twice your size. Imagine no one coming to your rescue. Imagine being told to walk home in a not-so-nice neighborhood at around 2:30a.m. Imagine the most horrible night.

Can you imagine it? Terrible right?

Imagine waking up the next morning and being afraid to tell anyone. Imagine feeling so insignificant in comparison to that nogood “big man on campus ” that you think no one would even believe you. Imagine dealing with all the shame and then blaming yourself for someone else ’ s senseless act of abuse. Imagine the most emotionally hurtful thoughts.

It happens all too often. Statistically, one in five women will be sexually abused on some level at some point in their lives. One. In. Five. Let that sink in. The worst part of it all is that there is no blueprint for how to heal from something like this. The aftermath will be different for each individual. Two common, yet not all-inclusive, responses to such a traumatic event are:

1.

2. To become completely withdrawn and afraid to let anyone touch them; or To lose any sense of self-respect and become overly promiscuous.

I, unfortunately, had a little of both of these responses. I was afraid to talk to anyone about what had happened out of nothing other than shame and embarrassment, but, at the same time, I lost all respect for myself - physically, mentally, and emotionally. For so long, I felt worthless. For years, I have suffered with depression, even trying at one point to end it all. And for so long, I tried to ignore the real root of my on-again-off-again emotional turmoil.

This was nearly 20 years ago, and I have just now begun feeling comfortable enough to tell this part of my story. (Notice I said “this part of my story ” because it’ s a minuscule piece of my story.) Take note. My story is far from over. And because I have stopped hiding my truth, I am now better equipped to deal with things more openly as they happen rather than holding it in and causing myself so much pain.

The moral of the story is that there is healing in revealing your truth. Don ’t hold it in! Chances are that telling your story will not only help you, but, help others as well.