Every fairytale has an unfortunate beginning. Alas, this is not the tale of a young maiden who yearns to be rescued by a knight in shining armor. This is the story of a girl forced to abandon her innocence far too early and it is my own. I ask for no pity or understanding. I merely wish for a chance to tell the world how I became the young woman who is writing this very text. It all began with a truly unfortunate circumstance.

High school was not what I dreamed it would be. Freshman year was engaging, of that there is no doubt, but it was also different and stressful. Summer’s arrival filled me with a certain glee. However, that happiness did not last. It was that very summer that I was sexually assaulted by an acquaintance. As countless others in my situation, I was lost and frightened. I did not understand what had happened and what I did to deserve it. No comprehension dawned upon me for years. I kept silent and suffered this trauma on my own for I believed it to be my own fault. A potent self-loathing grew within my mind that accompanied an isolation of my own design. To put it simply, I was inflicting a punishment upon myself even though I was at fault for absolutely nothing. Of course, I did not realize that then.

Sophomore year was when I finally confessed my hidden shame. I revealed my impurity and waited to be abandoned. No one left me. No one had forsaken me. Instead, they offered endless love and support. In nearly two years, my tears were not induced by pain and hatred. I sobbed with joy because I was never alone and never will be. I attended therapy and spoke about my experience with trusted friends. I lifted a crushing weight from shoulders and faced the world. I know now that I was not at fault. The blame lies with my attacker. There is no hatred left in my heart-- not for myself or him. I cannot change the past, however painful it may be, but I can influence my future.

It was with a changed heart and determination that I set out to change my ways. Gone were the vices that I used to numb the pain and in with healthy passions that filled my mind with wonder. I came to terms with my sexuality and sought solace in theater. I lost myself in the worlds of Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables. My desire to one day be in a production of one of my saving graces spurred a lost motivation. This time also brought about an interest in feminism and other social sciences. I wanted to help others for I knew how it was to suffer and I could never wish that upon anyone. I have educated myself in both passions and continue to do so every single day. Essentially, I discovered myself.

I beg of all who read this: do not think of me as a victim. That degrades my growth over the last three years. I am a survivor. This thought strengthens me to face each day and keep living. I did not let someone else’s evil ruin me. Instead, I turned it on its head and made myself better. My trauma has shaped my identity in the worst of ways and the best of ways. Of course, I will always wish that I did not endure such hardship but it is no use being chained to the past. I have accepted this event and use it as a catalyst for my goals. Giving up would let my attacker win his sick power-play. I will never let that be the case. I am brave. I am strong. I am the hero of my own story.