When I was 14, I was sexually assaulted. He was 17 at the time. He was a bully, he made racist threats against me. I tried standing up to him, I tried making him look like a fool. When I did, he had that look that he wanted to kill me. Sometimes I wish he did.

21 years ago today, he jumped me with two of his friends. They held me down, beat me and penetrated me with a bat. I tried fighting, but I was too small and too weak. When I woke up I was being treated for a sex injury in the hospital. I told my parents what happened and they were furious, the police officer said because I had an orgasm while being assaulted. I must've enjoyed it.

The aftermath was hell. I tried committing suicide. I found comfort in cutting and burning myself. I was put in a psychiatric hospital for 8 days. I wanted to end my life, but I loved my parents and didn't want them to spend their life blaming themselves.

I started therapy. I got better. I realized I wanted to live and I wanted to thrive. I was not a victim, I was ME, and I regained my voice and started building myself up.

The POS and his friends were forced to transfer schools, a few people told me they believed me, but it wasn't enough to put him in jail.

I'm here, 21 years later, stronger than ever, I have the scars and the wounds that show my journey and I am proud of them. They're a reminder of how far I have come, and how much more growth I have in front of me.

If you have been assaulted, you are not alone. I feel your pain and you always have support with me. I believe you.

That's all, thank you for reading. You can ask me anything about this, I'm an open book.