My Truth Exposed- Written November 19, 2019

My Truth Exposed- Written November 19, 2019

January 8, 2020 3 By Joanna Mosenson

I’m going to go out there and say thinking about this is not easy. Writing this was not easy. Sharing this is not easy. I may question my decision to open Pandora’s box every day from now until eternity but there is something telling me I’m ready. It’s time. So here it goes…

I’m not sure how we got on this topic the other night, Tom and I. But I was trying to explain how my brain is constantly spinning with thoughts, ideas, and sometimes fears. I explained it in a way I had seen in memes before. That my brain is like having an internet browser with 100 tabs open at all times. It’s chaotic, a bit crazy, sometimes overwhelming and other times irrational.
He completely couldn’t relate. He thinks that most of the time, his brain doesn’t even have a browser installed. Just empty. No thoughts. I can’t even imagine what that’s like! He wanted an example. The first one I could think of was my crazy thoughts on the drive to his house. How I needed petrol in my car. Rather than just getting petrol, my brain went through various different scenarios. For instance, if I choose to get petrol on the way home, it will
most likely be after midnight. That would mean there would probably be less people around and a higher chance that the station attendant or a random on the street could hurt or rape me. My thoughts don’t stop there. My brain then thinks, if that happened what would my next move be? Would I continue driving home? Would I go back to Toms to tell him and if I did would he even hear me knock if he was already sleeping? Would I go to the police? He could not fathom that on a simple drive something like that would go through my head. Then again, he is not a female and he hasn’t experienced what I have, I explained to him. Crap. I said too much. Why did I do that? More brain tabs opened. He listened intently like he always does as I let the words “I was almost raped when I was 14” slip from my lips. There’s no turning back now. I can’t make myself unsay those words and I can’t make him un-hear them. So when he asks for the details I give them to him.

……………………

I had just skated well in a figure skating competition at the Palisades Mall in what a Long Islander would consider Upstate New York. My camp friends who lived around that rink had come to watch and I was going to spend the rest of the weekend at their house. We decided to go to a house party that night to celebrate. I remember telling my friends I was in the mood to hook up with someone. Back then, hooking up meant a little make out session. Maybe some wandering hands. Nothing crazy and nothing too out of the ordinary considering we were all horny freshman at the time. 
I drank a lot that night. We all did. I can remember doing some type of fruity shots with the seniors on the lacrosse team at their school. I can also remember someone saying the beer cans were almost gone. I quickly ran to the guy with the cans and asked if I could buy three more. “That should get me through the end of the night”, I thought. He sold them to me for $5 if I remember correctly. I started chugging them as if I was afraid someone would steal them. A bit later in the night, one of my friends had grabbed my hand and brought me upstairs away from the party. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Just go in there”, she said, and opened the door to a room with a couch in it.  I walked in to find a guy I had seen earlier that night. He was cute.  He introduced himself to me and motioned me to sit on the couch next to him, so I did. We chatted for a few minutes. He told me he played on the lacrosse team and that he was a senior. Next thing I know he opens his mouth and slides his tongue between my lips. He slides my shirt off over my head, and I let him. His hands start wandering, and I let them. But things are moving fast. TOO FAST. Next thing I know my bottoms are off and he’s on top of me. I’m telling him to stop. That I don’t want to do anything more. But it’s as if he can’t hear me. Or maybe he was just ignoring me. I don’t know. What I do know is that I want him off of me and I’m trying to scream for help but my voice is only coming out as a whisper. I’m trying to wiggle my way out from under him but it’s as if I’m paralyzed; by alcohol or fear I’m not quite sure but I know he’s not moving. Tears are dripping down my face as I’m pleading for him to stop what he was doing. That I didn’t want to. But he didn’t stop until I feel his body weight lift a bit and the words “hold on, let me get a condom” fly freely from his mouth. “No. No. Please stop. I don’t want to”. I again tried to say as I’m struggling to muster up the strength to move my limp body. He is sitting on my pelvis with his knees on either side of me as I hear the tear of the condom wrapper. My heart stopped. “This is really happening” I thought to myself “and there is nothing I can do about it”. But then, in that fight or flight moment I somehow mustered up the strength to get out from underneath him. Something I was trying to do for what seemed like at least 10 minutes. I sprinted out of the room naked grabbing my clothes from the floor on my way out. I managed to lock myself in the bathroom just next door. I was shaking. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared. Dropping to the cold floor I can remember hugging my knees and rocking back and forth while tears flowed down my face. I stayed locked in that bathroom for a while! Long enough for me to stop crying, and shaking and I felt like I could make it back downstairs to the party safely. 
My friends looked to still be having a good time but all I wanted to do was get out of there. I parked myself on one of the couches, not talking, not drinking, just dazing. I felt like a zombie. The party was happening around me but it was as if I wasn’t there. I felt like a shell of myself. Finally, my friends were ready to leave. 
When we got back to their house I tried to tell them what had happened to me in that room upstairs. They didn’t believe me. They brushed it off as me just being drunk and irrational.  I went to sleep with thoughts of that nightmare replaying in my head.
……………………
As I was explaining these details to Tom, he was becoming fuzzy. I could see it in his eyes. This isn’t an uncommon reaction as he has diabetes and experiences it when his sugar is low. He got up to get some sugar and left me lying naked on the couch. This had become something I was comfortable doing with him. When he reentered the room with an orange juice he could tell something was off. “Are you okay?” He asked. I said yes at first. But I wasn’t. My heart was racing. My stomach was knotted. And as he hugged me tight, I admitted to him and myself, that talking about that night is hard for me. That despite becoming comfortable lying next to him without clothes on, now that he knows what happened all those years ago, I feel more naked than I’ve ever been. Naked on the inside. 100 percent completely exposed.
But while this feeling I feel right now is terrible and I feel so vulnerable, I’m so glad Tom now knows this secret. A secret I’ve kept from almost everyone for well over a decade. But I shouldn’t. It’s time for me to own my truth. To own the shame I shouldn’t feel. To give my parents some answers for my sudden changes all those years ago. To give strength to someone who may be grappling  with similar issues. And to finally accept it myself. To once and for all truly believe that I am not at fault. Because even though I got way too drunk, and I let him take off my shirt and I let his hands wander. The second I said no, he should have stopped and what happened next was not my fault no matter how hard it is for me to believe it.  I said NO. I begged NO. And no means no. ALWAYS! NO MATTER WHAT!

 

Catch me if you can,

Jo Mo