Rape.

It is such a nasty word, isn't it? So horrible that some people don't even want to talk about it.

First off I'd like to start off by saying that what I experienced is in no way, shape, or form, the same for every survivor. I would also like to say that this will not be the story of my rape but more the story of how I came to be a survivor. No one ever wants to talk about it.

Well I'm about to.

First and foremost, this does change everything. Rape. It changes your outlook on others, your relationships with others, your mental health, your perception of other, the perception of yourself, honestly the list could go on forever.

After going through an experience like that you don't feel like a survivor. I know for me I felt the complete opposite. For the longest time I just pretended that it never happened. For others out there who may have been through the same thing, I don't recommend avoidance. See what I didn't realize is that it was in fact changing me even though I was trying to run from it.

I started acting out of character. I was easily angered; I got into a huge fight with a girl who lived down the hall from me. I started acting irrationally; I ended up quitting lacrosse. I started doing things that were crazy and not me, but I did them because I could. I did it because it was my choice; getting my tongue pierced and partying every weekend.

For awhile I thought it was just typical newly free freshman shenanigans. However, soon I wasn't able to concentrate in my classes. I was not able to sleep at night. I was not eating like I normally do. Some days I wouldn't eat anything, the next day I would eat everything.

Before I knew it 2 years had gone by and I was a wreck. I had gained 40lbs, I was not eating at all, and I did not sleep at night. I started skipping class. Soon I had missed 3 weeks.

It started to consume everything. I thought about how I was going to have to tell my future husband one day and how he would be disgusted with me. I thought about how I broke my moms heart when I told her what happened. I thought about how my dad would view me differently once he found out. I grew more and more disgusted with myself, with my body. It didn't even feel like it was my body anymore. Just a place for my unsettled mind to relive my rape.

All I thought about was the night of my rape. It would come in flashes. I would have nightmares about it. I couldn't leave my bed because I was too physically and mentally weak.

Then I wanted to kill myself.

I had a plan.

I was ready.

I wanted it to end.

In that low time all I can say is I am so blessed to have had a best friend who would text me everyday to make sure I was okay. Thank God, I had a mother as well who would call me every other day. Without them, without their love, care, compassion, and strength I do not think I would be here today.

But through them they helped me find strength to see a therapist.

Through my therapist I finally confronted what had happened to me.

What I've learned is everyone is going to have something: a death of a loved one, a mental disease that tries to kill you from the inside out, a traumatic event, something that will destroy you in some way.

I learned that its okay if you let that bother you.

I learned that it gets better and it will be okay.

I learned that I will make it.

I did make it.

I'm a survivor.

Sometimes it only takes you a couple months or maybe a couple years like me. You may not ever be back to who you were, but the way I look at it, is that you are so much stronger.

You are a survivor.

At the end of the day, you've made it another day and I believe that is what truly counts. Just look ahead. It likes you're caught in a storm and you see the sunshine miles ahead. You see that it gets better, sprint for that sun. Run towards it. Don't ever let the storm fool you into thinking the sun won't ever come back.

You are THE survivor.