Learning to Forgive I was sixteen, still young and naïve. I was having a lot of fun at my best friend Sarah's sweet sixteen birthday party. Sarah attended a different High School than me in a different town but I still enjoyed going to parties with her friends. We were all hanging out at her house; some people were drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, or smoking pot. I was not that into to any of it then but didn't mind trying stuff. Nothing was really different from any other high school party I had gone to, except for the fact that my friend Sarah's older brother and his best friend were also at the party. They were both out of high school and seemed much cooler than the high school guys I was talking to. Sarah's brother and friend Tom came over to me and brought me a drink from Scott's parents' liquor cabinet. The drink tasted disgusting but I felt more mature hanging out with them and drinking their drinks. I was always told I was beautiful by high school boys, but it was more exciting when Tom was flirting with me-- he made me feel so sophisticated. After talking for a bit, Tom started kissing me and he asked me to go with him on a walk. I was one of the more naïve sixteen-year-old girls when it came to understanding guys or knowing what to expect from their seemingly innocent motives. I had only allowed myself to kiss a guy, and wanted to be mature and in love with the first guy I had experience with. I guess my values significantly clashed with each other because on one hand I valued my innocence, and on the other I wanted to grow up. I never saw that one value negated the other until this night. Tom grabbed my hand and took me away from the party into the house. He told me he wanted to go somewhere where we could talk and hang out and led me to one of the family bedrooms. I was uncomfortable with the idea of being alone with him and knew that I was really drunk and not in control but I did not react fast enough. Tom closed the door behind me and pulled me over to the bed where he started to take of my clothes. I hesitated but not soon enough because in my hazy state I somehow ended up on the bed undressed. I started saying no because I all of a sudden hurt all over, but Tom easily resisted my panicked fogginess. He forced himself on me while I finally pleaded and cried for him to stop. He said that I had to do something now that he was turned on and the events following were horrifying. I do not want to go into further detail because it is painful to recount the exact particulars of the attack. At the time I knew Tom had forced me into a situation where I had little control and extreme fear, but saying no did not stop him from taking advantage of me. It was all so confusing and foggy in my mind. I knew what was happening, but I didn't have any other experiences with guys and so I didn't know until later just how wrong what happened was. After it was all over I grabbed Sarah and told her what happened. I didn't know or understand but she did. She was horrified. The next morning I woke up and felt like I had been punched in the stomach. Nothing around me looked or felt real. It was like being in a dream and everything blurs together and becomes surreal. I didn't know what I was doing my body just took over and I frantically got my stuff together and headed for my car. I didn't know why I was leaving so quickly-- I just knew that I needed to go. In my car I glanced in my rearview mirror and Tom was headed over to the car to talk. My heart pounded and I couldn't breath. I put the car in drive and sped away. The days following I was numb and irritable. I had started dating a really nice guy, Matt, in the beginning of the summer and refused to return his phone calls. Finally my older sister came to me and asked why I was being so rude to Matt. I couldn't find the words to explain how I had recently become paralyzed and had no clue what to do to unfreeze. Instead I smiled politely and said I would call Matt right away. I did and we had a date that night. Everything again felt like a dream. I was unaware that I was alive, going through the motions. On the surface I guess everything seemed okay. Matt didn't seem to notice anything was wrong until it came time for him to kiss me goodnight and I freaked out and jumped out of the car. Once inside the house I ran up to my bedroom and started to cry. I didn't even know what I was crying about-- I just couldn't stop. My sister had seen me come home and came up to my room to ask about my date. When she walked in the door she immediately was concerned and asked what had happened. I explained to her the events of Sarah's birthday in the best detail that I could discuss and weave together. Even while I was talking I didn't know what I was saying. She looked at me sadly and sat on the bed and hugged me and told me I had been raped. The word, the horrible, shameful, disgusting, abusive word ran through my head a million times. I was raped. I was raped, and I didn't even know what sex was or what intimacy was about, love or relationships for that matter. All I knew was what it felt like to be victimized and abused. I thought that maybe most guys were like this and maybe sex really was awful. What was wrong with me that this happened, and what had I done to make him hurt me? I thought that I must be disgusting too. I never spoke to Sarah again about what had happened but did find the courage to tell a couple of my closest friends. They all stood by and supported me, but I still hated myself, and none of them could change that. I hated Tom more, but thinking that I did something wrong made me feel like I could protect myself from another assault. I promised myself to never again be alone with a guy I didn't know and trust and not to drink around anyone I didn't know or trust either. I adhered to my promise but still continually doubted myself. The rest of the summer was a blur of panic attacks, and nightmares escaped briefly when hanging out with close friends and family but sometimes not even then. Rarely could I rid myself of the fear and shame. More frequently I mourned the loss of my innocence and the pain of having someone take something so precious from me without being able to protect myself. Because of my terror of again becoming a victim I was determined to protect myself from anyone who was a possible threat to my safety. I kept my distance from guys I did not know or trust. Spending time with my best friend Ben made me nervous following the attack. Yet the more we were together the more he helped to alleviate my concerns. Ben made me feel so safe and allowed for me to open up and let him inside the walls I had so firmly placed between men and myself. After he found out what had happened to me he loved me even more. He was determined to show me that good guys exist and that healthy relationships are possible. At first it was difficult for me to get closer to him; however he stood by me so strongly, his respect and admiration for me never faltered and I began to trust him completely. It felt so amazing to be with him and to love him. Our friendship developed into a committed relationship and Ben and I dated for nearly three years. I realized the drastic difference between my experiences with Ben and the horror that I endured the summer before. The rape was devastating, but the post-trauma I experienced was at times almost unbearable. My parents were outraged when I finally did confide in them. They wanted me to talk to a lawyer and to immediately press charges, but at the time I did not have the courage. I believed then that I could have stopped it all from happening. I kept picturing myself in the courtroom explaining that I did willingly drink and go with Tom to a private room. I knew that all the facts about the rape were much stronger than my naïve choices but at the time I couldn't bear the publicity. Most significantly, I never wanted to see Tom again. I look back on that July five years ago from this summer and now as a twenty-one-year old I understand that at sixteen I was an innocent girl. I know there are ways I could have possibly prevented the assault, but it has taken five years of experiences, both positive and negative ones to understand that at sixteen I had no concept of what someone like Tom was capable. I will always hate Tom for what he did and always know that I am not at fault for him hurting me, but unfortunately we all live in a very imperfect world, and as a young woman I have to take the responsibility for protecting myself to the best of my abilities. Facing the harsh reality that there are people in this world that will take advantage of me at a weak moment is both scary and frustrating. What I learned from my pain was that although I could rarely trust others, that I needed to learn to again trust myself. Regret has been the greatest burden in my life for these past few years and a weight I have carried for so long. I am finally able to lighten that burden and forgive myself. It took five years of self-doubt and experience before I could comprehend that I could not know then what I do know now. I am no longer angry with myself for my mistakes but somewhat grateful for the new perspective I have gained. Through personal growth and positive relationships with family, good guys and close friends I have also come to understand that I can trust others. Most significantly, I have recognized my greatest personal truth: I need forgiveness for myself. I have control over my choices, but I will make mistakes and poor decisions in the future. I am frustrated and disappointed when I repeat or take a new misstep, but I have to keep living, and keep learning. I am proud of who I am today, and if it had to be that both my mistakes and successes establish my current beliefs, my trust in myself and my ability to forgive, then I am grateful for all my experiences. I am able to face new challenges with greater confidence in myself, and willingness to take risks, with the knowledge that failure provides character, forgiveness allows for growth, success brings joy, and personal discovery keeps life worth living. Stephanie Pappalardo

 

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