As you can tell by the title, this isn’t going to be a pretty one. Please, if this topic is uncomfortable for you, do not read it.
It honestly has taken a lot for me to ever talk about this situation, but it definitely needs to be talked about for the sake of helping others deal with this situation.
Before my sixth grade year was when my parents got divorced, triggering my depression. In my seventh grade year was when this all happened. So for a whole year I was already struggling with self harm and impending dread when this happened. From August of my seventh grade school year, to about November, was probably the scariest of my life.
I really liked this boy. Like wow. He was my best friend, super sweet, funny, someone I thought I could trust. Then finally, the moment we kids all waited for, getting our own Facebook. I can’t remember if I got mine in sixth or seventh grade, but the boy and I had become friends in my seventh grade year.
After awhile, and after he had found out that I liked him, things went downhill. He started messaging me obscene things on Facebook. Things I didn’t even know about, considering I was so “innocent”. Months of messaging and unwanted touching, in real life, went by.
November rolled around and I still didn’t know what to do. I was scared and trust me, my mom noticed. She thought it had to do with my Facebook, so she went through it, and what she found wrenched her heart. Eventually we scheduled a meeting with the school counselor, the lovely Ms. Bell. It was a very emotional meeting, and I didn’t expect any less.
When they accused him of what he did it was, “boys will be boys”. No. Hell no. Back then, I was more upset that I lost a friend and he would never look at me the same. Now? To Hell with it. I am more upset that the excuse of “boys will be boys” is even in someones mind when it concerns a child, male or females, safety. The part that hurt the most was when my friend would sit there and watch, or listen to me telling her what happened, and she would laugh.
Yes, this contributed to my anxiety, my depression, my unwillingness to trust people who want to get close. But I pushed through and got over the hurdles. Given the fact, yes, I was in seventh grade suffering from crippling depression, doesn’t matter with me telling the story now. Do not be like me and not tell someone for months. Do not be like me and let another persons unwanted hand touch your skin. Take it upon yourself to break the persons hand if you have to. Do not suffer in silence. You are worth so much more than that.
SILENCE IS NOT A YES! #istandwithvictims