I was sexually assaulted my freshman year of college at a fraternity party.

After it happened, I thought that my friends were so supportive. Everyone surrounded me with love and kindness as I proceeded to report my attacker and the assault.

Then, I started to notice a few things go wrong.

No one understood my paranoia, shame or embarrassment about what happened to me. They thought I could just get over it, go about my normal day-to-day activities and not think about what had happened to me. They were wrong.

Over the summer, I continued to fight my case with my college, but I changed as a person as well. I became severely depressed. I never wanted to leave my dorm. I stayed in bed for the majority of the time. I was constantly reminded of what happened to me and forced to defend myself every single day through witness statements, emails, and meetings with those handling my case. I cried myself to sleep every single night that summer. I felt so alone. I was completely broken, fighting harder than I’d ever had to in my life.

My boyfriend almost broke up with me because of my assault. Although we are still together (and very happy), one summer conversation stays in my mind to this day. He told me that he felt emasculated by what happened to me and that he felt less like a boyfriend and more like a therapist in our relationship. He told me I needed to take care of myself and my issues and that he needed to do the same. He told me that as a 19-year-old, dating a victim was a lot for him to deal with. Yet, I was 19 and had just gone through the most horrific experience of my life.

I finally understood what it meant to be treated like damaged goods.

That stung, but then I realized something: that’s rape culture.

After the Dean’s Office decided to suspend my attacker for a semester, the Vice President accepted his second appeal and let him walk free. I ran into him my first day of class my sophomore year.

That stung, but then I realized something: that’s rape culture.

I lived my entire sophomore year in paranoia and fear. I looked for my attacker on my way to and from class, in the library and in the bookstore. I looked for him at sporting events and parties. I was terrified of seeing his face again.

I guess my friends didn’t like that much, though. I’d heard them tell me several times that I needed to move on. I heard about their private conversations regarding how much I would talk about my case and how much it annoyed them. What hurt the most, though, was when I found out they were questioning my honesty and integrity about my assault behind my back.

That stung, but then I realized something: that’s rape culture.

Rape culture is having your friends, family and strangers question the victim’s judgment.

What I was wearing, how much I had been drinking and my lack of action due to my severe panic and anxiety has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I was assaulted.

I will not be silenced by those who are annoyed by my sexual assault. I am a survivor who is standing with the countless other men and women who have suffered through the terrors that are rape and sexual assault.

It’s time to put an end to victim blaming.