To The Collegiate Athlete That Raped Me,

Hello, I know that you will never see this and a part of me hopes that you would. If you don’t know me, I am the girl you soberly raped in October of 2015. Yes, the one that told you that I WAS NOT into hooking up with you and the one that told you I would help you with homework.

As I try to pick myself up from the crisis you have caused, I have thought about how we are similar:

1. We both have a coach and teammates. Just like you, my teammates and I all have something in common; we have all been sexually assaulted and/or raped. My teammates are now my friends from group therapy and my coach is my counselor.

2. We both spend a lot of our time improving. While yours is luckily doing something you love, the majority of my time is piecing myself back together. The amount of time I now spend in the counseling center is probably the same amount of time you spend at practice and games combined.

3 .I create game plans and routes as well. However, mine are regarding how to avoid triggers, what to do if I see you, how to ‘tackle’ panic attacks, and how I am going to get myself back to the girl I was before you ruined me.

4. We both win or lose at the end of the day. While my wins don’t include the victory lights on or the raging parties that follow Pitt Football wins, they include being able to sleep with only 2 nightmares instead of 5, waking up in the morning being able to actually get out of bed and to class, and turning in assignments on time.

You walk around campus like every girl wants you, however I didn’t. I didn’t want anything but to help you with your homework and the worst part is you knew that. You knew I didn’t want to hook up with you when I specifically told you verbally and over text that I didn’t want to. You agreed, almost thinking it was weird that I was telling you that, because why would I even think you wanted anything more than friendship and some help? What happened to me just helping you and leaving? What happened to ‘respecting women because you are a momma's boy?' I would love to know what your mom, or sister would say if they knew what you did to me that Wednesday night in October. I hope that night haunts you as much as it haunts me.