I have always censored my journals, worried about someone getting ahold of it and judging me for my horrific thoughts. I was recently raped, and it is hard for me to call it that. Its hard because I always thought of rape as something that happened like a predator pray scenario. I was raped by a boy who I loved. I loved him in the intoxicating way where I would have done anything for him. He was the person I planned to marry I thought that I was in a loving caring relationship. I thought that after having shitty taste on guys I found the perfect guy. He was sweet and funny and smart, and I just connected with him. The thing is because I labeled him as the good guy, I let a lot of slide. Things I would not have previously. See we had an undeniable chemistry, even when we were kissing it was intoxicating. I felt like I could not stop I wanted more. Maybe my first red flag should have been not even a week in we got in trouble with the cops for making out in the back seat of his car. The second one should have been that I risked my parents trust by sneaking him into the house. The third was a month into our relationship he was already pressuring me into sex. The only reason I escaped it was because I remember condoms. I thought because I was more experienced than him that I was tainting him, that I was the issue through the relationship. I thought this when he told me his parents called me toxic and when he would do things that I did not agree with and I felt shitty for being mad about something he did wrong. I remember I suspected he was cheating on me and instead of easing my worries he helped that girl get a job and made me feel crazy because he said he loved me why would he cheat on me. It sucked because I had been cheated on by other guys in the past and he knew this. He did not try and ease my mind at all, yet when he had insecurities, I was the one who had to make him feel better. When we broke up, I was exhausted, I was sick of carrying both of our burdens. I guess I did it because I was hoping for the boy, I fell in love with to come back. I missed the laughter the playfulness and yet when that was gone it was a lot of fighting and I felt like I was the toxic one the one who initiated the fighting. My parents would ignore my problems with him because they thought I was overreacting; the thing is there was so much I was not telling them. They did not know I was looking for a way out and was too scared to leave. I wanted to know how to leave, and I could not figure it out. People thought I was going to marry him, and I felt trapped and figured I would because I did not know how else to escape it. I loved him more then I loved myself so when we broke up, I was forced to learn how to love myself. Then I was forced to learn how to love myself and cope with a rape.

I am not great about keeping up with how I am feeling. Recently in therapy my therapist asked why I continue to defend him. It was such as simple question, why do I defend the person who hurt me who made me feel useless, unworthy, unlovable? The reason sounded more horrific than I cared to admit. I felt like I was the abusive one in the relationship. In hindsight it sounds ridiculous but whenever I had a problem, I wanted to speak to him about it. Yet somehow, I would feel guilty for even bringing the problem to him. He would make me pity him, or worse bring up the fact that it was always ME who had a problem. It sucked because everyone in my life would tell me he was too good to me, that I just walked all over him when I felt like I was tip toeing around the real issues. Its sad because now I could have an issue and suddenly, I feel like I cannot communicate these issues to the people that are important in my life because I am the problem. I was raped and it was horrific, it is the very thing that keeps me up at night. I was also the victim of some extreme manipulation and I have not felt like myself in a long time because of it. Prior to him, I felt as if life was like floating on my back waiting until I hit land and now, I am trying to float on my back in a category 5 hurricane with a backpack of bricks on my back and I cannot help but wonder if the kicking is even worth it. I know how terrible it sounds but I am lost confused and have been thrown for a loop because I never thought I would be in this scenario and even 6 months later I am still struggling with the very real fact that I was raped. I was raped by someone who I loved and cared for and no matter how much I wanted him to be my person he just was not. It was nice because my grandmother who had been in an abusive relationship said that its easy to think relationships should be hard, but they should not. It should not have to be a constant fight to be with that person, now there will be disagreements and arguments but it should not feel like an uphill battle every single day. It was refreshing to hear that because I have always sort have idolized the relationship she has with my grandfather, I honestly do not know if she would have found something that amazing if she had not been through her situation. Not to justify it but I think that it gives clarity on what is a red flag when you have never thought to look for one. It is also difficult for me because I know that my grandmother’s abuser is out there, I know that he has never had to pay any repercussions, that he has since had daughters, still is drinking alcohol even though he clearly had problems, yet my grandmother struggled for the better part of a decade. She had children with her abuser and honestly that is where I feel lucky. I did not have his children and I have no reason for his contact. Yet he gets to walk free and if he wanted to rape another person he could, and I have not done a damn thing to stop it except panic in the middle of the night.

I have learned that I now have an issue with rape culture. I mean obviously rape should bother me. It should bother anyone. Part of me believes that I was raped because he was trying to keep me and thought that if he did it, he could keep me because I would feel powerless. What is bothersome is that I was raped by someone that was seemingly normal. He was not your stereotypical bad boy; he was the nerdy boy who loved to code and wanted to be a programmer. It is weird to normalize him because all I want to do is villainize him. He is the villain in my story; however, the cultural phenomena are that rape is okay. Viewing women as objects are okay, I mean it seen every single day when we talk about catcalling, when we talk about women’s bodies, when porn is a norm, and when consent is more of a taboo then sex itself. I am 19 and I have had more talks with my parents about sex itself then I have about consent. In sexual education class abstinence is taught to avoid pregnancy which in it of itself is inherently flawed, yet the same principle of consent preventing rape is not applied. I am mad for thousands of reasons, I am mad because I am a victim, because I know other victims, because being a victim is the most powerless feeling, most isolating feeling in the world. To continue this, I am mad because today a little boy ran up and poked my boob. The parents should have ridiculed him, they should have been furious with him; instead, they laughed. I was sitting there thinking this little boy should know better than to run up to girls and touch them. He should have known not to randomly touch strangers. Yet the next thought in my head is that his parents do not understand that. They do not understand the very importance of consent. Yes, he is young but that shows how young this nature is enforced in boys. What is even more infuriating is I could not say anything because I do not want to overstep and tell parents how to parent, yet at the same time I did not want to get in trouble with my boss and get fired. I would rather stay silent about rape risk my job. That is how horrendously intertwined rape is in the country. It is more often to be heard about how sexual assault will ruin a man’s career then it is to hear about how rape ruined a women’s life. How one day she was just a girl and suddenly, she is a victim, and she must fight to survive. Fight the anger, pretend everything is fine when she cannot even breath in her own skin, how being in a room feels uncomfortable and hugs are violating. No matter how much I shower I never feel clean because I still remember the feeling as if it were currently happening. Yet while I suffer from all this fear and this anxiety, I still am in denial about the very fact that I was raped.

I have been in therapy for months, on meds for months and officially am having some serious sleep issues. I have been called crazy and lately I have been so angry at Arkansas. I am having a hard time connecting at WSU because everyone asks what Arkansas was like. They are impressed by the sheer size, but I am missing it, Arkansas was home. Now I say this about every place I have lived the issue is I got comfortable. I thought I could always count on Arkansas, on him, on my friends. The thing was I couldn’t have been more wrong, I get comfortable, and I go through the worse memory of my life. The one I can’t stop replaying. I have been diagnosed with PTSD and I wonder why it affects me so badly. I feel so alone in my journey of recovering from assault and yet I am not alone, and I have never felt more alone. Part of me is like it was 10 months ago I should be over it, but I am not. I have come a long way but by no means am I better. Part of me wants to bring everything to him and say: “I have transferred colleges, had nightmares panic attacks and depressive episodes, not been able to talk to my friends, crashed my car, been in therapy, felt exposed, raw, and betrayed slept with more people than I can count on my hands. Had to be pregnancy tested, and STD tested. not to mention the fact I can’t enter a state I love; listen to songs I love for fear of 2 years’ worth of memories to pop up. So, tell me was it worth it? Was it worth your inability to get off me?”
After this I hope I end up alone, I don’t think I can take another betrayal of this scale. I was helplessly in love with him, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care enough to keep plans. To not sleep with other girls, to understand what consent was. I guess he never had to worry about outcomes because everyone loves him. I wish I knew what that was like.

Hello world I am writing this from the ‘comfort’ of the DG house; this house is adorable, but it is not Alpha Omega. Anyone who has gotten the pleasure of seeing Alpha Omega would understand what I mean. Its not grand, they don’t have chefs making three meals a day, massive staircases that feel overjoyed and welcoming. They don’t have large letters to pose in front of for every occasion under the sun or those banners that put a smile on my face. There is no such thing as chicken finger Friday, chapter dinner. I know they never intend to be alpha Omega, but I cannot help but miss it. Here I feel like the outsider looking in through the window hoping to gain some level of comfort. Yet when I look at this house all we have in common are the Delta gamma secrets and even that they do differently here.
I know that eventually I probably won’t feel this way. I mean a year ago I felt disconnected from Alpha Omega. Then I met Kaili and Natalie, so I need to give it time. I think the same could be said about Wichita State as a whole. I have been so much better here getting involved and pushing myself out of my comfort zone. Actively seeking help, talking to random people, and even attending events by myself. Like Ms. Parker used to say I thrive in situations where I am starting over, mostly because it is all I have ever known. Yet Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither will my experiences at Wichita State, I will grow to love it here it is just going to take time.
At Arkansas I was able to cling to the familiar, A boyfriend who I was no longer in love with, friends who were actively changing too, places and restaurants I knew. It wasn’t healthy and I probably should have gone to Ole Miss. Yet I didn’t, I wish I could go back in time and tell myself its okay to choose Ole Miss and leave everything behind. My favorite quote is “it is better to be brave then to be perfect.” I tell myself that every single day. I just need to live by it a little bit more then I have been.

I don’t even know where to begin. That dream of being an engineer is coming true, here is the problem I don’t know which route to take. I am confused and overwhelmed but also feel very blessed because this could have never been the case at Arkansas. To continue I had felt so good this weekend, I felt like myself going to this leadership retreat and for the first time was really open about my journey. It felt good until an ignorant woman said that she believed one small action should not ruin a rapist life. It was the first time I ever regretted my decision not to press charges. I was sitting in a room with other victims and just torn because I couldn’t speak out, I was silent. Since my assault that is all, I have been is silent. I would love to speak out and say I was raped, and this is how the justice system failed me. How my university failed me. Instead, I am working on my own mental health because my own panic attacks are becoming overwhelming.
Furthermore, Nathaniel entered my life again and this time I don’t know why. It wasn’t my fault it started about the jaguars which he knows is my weak spot I could trash talk football for the rest of my life with him. Life has been rough the last few days and its okay, because I can get through anything. I just need that perseverance.
I think all in all my life is changing for the better, yet like always it’s been difficult, I have nothing to cling to well maybe Liam. I don’t know if him and I will always be this close but the older we have gotten the closer we have gotten, and I don’t think I could be more grateful for him and his patience. I think everyone develops that best guy friend. I hope he is mine to stay the last one I had was Kolten and it couldn’t have ended worse.
It’s funny that I mention him I would say that he looked down on me, treated me as less then, called me crazy when I told him I didn’t feel that way. I was talked down too and it was a time that I feared for my life. I don’t think about it anymore. I didn’t go to therapy, but I wish I had because it was a narcissistic tendency, I wished I had learned to watch out for. Kolten could do no wrong, he has never had to apologize a day in his life.
It is angering to be a woman in America its always the micro-aggressions like wow your bossy, or wow your intense, or one day you will want kids, wow your so smart for being an engineering student. I hate it. This isn’t what I was raised with I am a young woman: I love football, shopping, animals, adventures, programming, robots, Romcoms. I don’t fit any label and I intend to be financially independent so that I never need to rely on a man, I want to decide what happens to my body. I don’t want to seem like a feminist but at the same time why the hell would I root against myself because of my gender?  

Lately the world for me has been kind of crazy, beyond this being the worst year of my life I have experience a lot of changes. I broke up with my long-time boyfriend Steven, the breakup was okay, the aftermath is what hurt. I then was raped. My university told me they couldn’t help me and basically that they did not believe me. I then lost the ability to sleep, to feel safe, I felt like I could never be at peace. I ended up running away to New York which would have been fine if I hadn’t totaled my car, and finally had to get over the person I was holding on to since I was 14. It sucked for reality to ruin Nate. He was the person I would run to when things got rough, and I figured I would always be able too. After totaling my first car my ass got flown home to Kansas where my parents lost all faith in me, and I was considered crazy. Next, I went back to school. I was so happy to go back and feel like myself again, I was home for less then 2 weeks. I remember on a Wednesday being on the floor of my room feeling as if I could die and no one would care except from the rabbit I rescued from a meet farm and honestly, she would have only cared because no one would feed her then. My parents came and picked me up from school, I then was stuck with them for the rest of the semester. I felt like I was 16 again and my parents knew my every whereabouts I hated it. I felt like a failure. After all of this I decided to transfer colleges because I couldn’t manage the thought of going back to Arkansas. I transferred to a place I have never lived, and I am truly starting over. I transferred into a university and immediately I was the outcast. I was the girl everyone looked at strangely because I had transferred here. I wasn’t a freshman; I was in a sorority that didn’t recruit me. Yet as if this year couldn’t feel anymore insufferable, my childhood dog died. I am ready to be done with 19.
I have been doing better since I transferred, I have an amazing internship, I have made friends, I just found out that my guy friend has feelings for me and its frightening because I know I like him as more than a friend but after Steven it’s hard to trust men, he also isn’t here permanently. So, I don’t know what to do.
I started my internship this week and everyone is so inviting but I can’t help but to feel stupid. I am happy to be there, and I wouldn’t do anything to screw it up intentionally, but I feel like I am just faking it until I make it. Wondering if they really knew me if they would have hired me. Then again imposter syndrome is an absolute bitch.  

This weekend was initiation, it was very thought provoking like what does delta gamma mean to me? Is it a place a piece of mind? A connection to my mother? Yet as I was driving, I remember chicken finger Friday at Arkansas. On paper it sounds cliché, or not deep but I remember those moments with Natalie or with Kaili they were sacred days like I could always count on Friday Afternoons with my sisters. Delta Gamma for me is consistency in a way I have never been able to experience otherwise. I know I can’t express my gratitude to the chapter enough yet as I was having a melt down in the bathroom at a skate station, I had a sister there. I heard a saying that said Kids remember who showed up and its true at any age. I remember who showed up for me. Who remember that I needed them? I remember that I have never had a sister fail me in times of trouble. Even after my rape I went to one of my sorority sisters’ places. I can never express the importance of that. Without knowing what was wrong she fed me, let me shower there, and gave me a place to sleep no questions asked. That is powerful considering a few months prior I didn’t know she existed.
For me Delta Gamma is my safe place. It is the place that I know I am loved, cherished, and will always be accepted No questions asked. I intend to live my life as a Delta Gamma always. Striving to do good, putting my education first, being a good friend, loyal, and the most important one personally courage. Being brave it is so simple, but it is so necessary for survival and thriving. I hope that with the years to come in my chapter I can develop a connection more and more. Maybe if I ever have kids, they will be able to connect to their sorority in the way that I was able too and my mother was.

Tonight, was Phi Delta’s thanksgiving with DG. It was awkward I was put with this country guy talking in his deep accent, not my type personally. Yet while I was in a dinner with food that was delicious just not my favorite and with guys I had not connection too I ate dinner with a bunch of sisters. It was nice because for the first time I was able to openly connect with them. I knew all the girls’ names and had conversations with all of them. It was nice because this hasn’t been the case for me in a long time. It was the first night I didn’t feel like the outsider looking in on a room full of people.
I also was at work today and again felt like the outsider. Not that its anyone’s fault I am just new. I am sick of being the new person in my life yet when I think about a sedentary life, I get uncomfortable. Thinking about Wichita beyond college is difficult what if I want to move see the world. What if I choose to be with someone who is just as nomadic as me?

It is 1 am in the morning, I honestly don’t remember at any other point in my life staying up so late. Despite that fact I am in an odd place in life right now. I just entered a new relationship t is the first one post Steven. While he is nothing like my ex, I can’t help but wonder how our past relationships are going to affect things. I was assaulted betrayed and broken by a guy that I had given everything too. He only dated one girl and it ended badly. Yet as I spend time with him, he genuinely is my favorite person to spend time with. Hours feel like mere minutes, and I don’t know how to explain that to anyone else. Its an amazing change of pace from where I am coming from but it also nerves racking because it is so different.

It is about 23 hours later, and I had a breakthrough. As I was thinking about my love languages it has been no doubt that mine is quality time, I value it to an extent most people are unaware of. I heard a few years ago that love languages are often what you lacked as a child for me I really did lack quality time from my parents. Not that they didn’t love me, or that my grandparents didn’t, but they were always busy, and I didn’t receive that level of attention. I have always known this and have made my peace with it.
However, what I hadn’t realized is that my Ex-Boyfriend toyed with this emotion. He would get my hopes up with spending time together and he would take it away. I did everything I could to make it easy on him to spend time with me and he would still find ways to fall short. He never gave me ample notice but rather gave me a mere hour at the earliest. I would think he would be headed to me just to find out he canceled on me for a party.
I kept making excuses for him because he seemed sincere, and I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that he would never maliciously hurt me. Even though I had been suffering under a crumpling relationship for a long time. I hadn’t been happy in the relationship for almost a year, and I had tried breaking up with him several times but each time he convinced me to go back to him. I used other guys as anchors to try and pull myself out of the relationship and was lucky enough to have Nate allow me to hold on to escape.
I am nearing my anniversary of my assault and I am nervous for my reaction. While it is normal for nerves to pick up surrounding anniversaries of trauma, I am also really missing the girl I used to be. I missed the girl I was a year ago who was vibrant and full of life. Who was adventurous and unafraid of those around her? I was the girl Who was able to be at peace with moving, who had the red Ford Fiesta. Yet today I am a hell of a lot stronger. I have worked on my mental health, I call out toxic relationships, I understand today what it means to be fighter. While when initially scared I run away once I have calmed down, I am combative. I fight for those who I love, and I am fighting to protect the girls that were once life me.

Today I wrote what my mother wrote for my recommendation letter for Delta Gamma, she called me fiercely loyal. Sometimes I forget about my loyalty to others, for me being their standing up for someone has been secondhand nature. I forget that how important it is to cultivate a lasting friendship. I also don’t see it as positive I think it means I stay in bad situations longer than I should. Not even with my ex-boyfriends but even with past friendships. For example, Meredith Blue, she lied about everything and yet if she ever had a problem I was there. I picked up strays is what my parents would say, friends who I didn’t necessarily agree with, or really like but I wanted them to have a support system even if it meant I didn’t have one.
Kolten is another great example of this. Kolten is a narcissist, he can never be wrong, yet I just kept giving him the benefit of the doubt. That was until I was cornered being yelled at by him. I avoided him after that being as respectful as I could when it came to our mutual friends. Yet they all treated me like shit saying I should just forgive him. They never even considered for a minute that I might be right. Oddly enough he ended up isolating most his female friends by the end of the year. Anyways I think any trait can become toxic at any point or positive despite how bad it is. Such as being cynical if your cynical nothing can ever hurt you.

Life Sucks. About a year ago I stopped programming, I lost the love for it, the passion, and the wonder. Obviously, I still programmed here and there, I programmed for school, for my job this summer but I lost the love of it. Now I am an Industrial Engineering major I still need to program now and then but every part of me Misses those days where I could spend hours programming, I miss the Lizzy that adored python, who wrote scripts to write them. Now I can’t name the last time I programmed for me.
That’s the thing about the assault it was brief. From start to finish max 30 minutes yet those 30 minutes are the ones I cannot forget, escape I could be drinking coffee and think of my coffee addiction in high school and then think of who I dated in high school. Boom back to him. Maybe it is because I was with him for so long, I allowed him to know my every secret wish and desire. He could have told you I was never the night owl, that before college 11 pm was bedtime. Now I am 20 years old, and bedtime is 3am. I guess its normal but not the waking up drenched in sweat and tears due to a dream of a memory. I miss the nightmares of failing now I get them from the worst day of my life.
What sucks now is I am past the one-year mark, and I keep thinking that if I went back to a year ago today all I could do is hug myself and tell her it would be okay. I can’t save her with a time machine, for so long I wanted to go back in time and tell 17-year-old me don’t get involved, stay away I promise it will be good for you. But when I think of a year ago, I think of the girl crying on a couch being threatened by her ex-boyfriend too afraid to ruin her mom’s vacation and tell her what happened.
I think of the girl driving her uncle to a party shaking and him telling her he doesn’t know what is wrong but that he hopes she feels better. The girl whose dad is convinced she got pregnant and her praying for the first time in her life that she wasn’t. the girl whose grandmother checked in on her when she wasn’t sleeping at night because it was unusual for her to have that kind of insomnia. She feels like from another life ago. Since then, it has been therapy after therapy and sharing feelings sleeping medications and unsafe drinking habits. I hate when people say that I am stronger now for everything. I shouldn’t have had to be strong I should have been safe. I was 19 a freshman in college, who was trying to help her ex-boyfriend out. I carried pepper spray, I didn’t walk alone at night, I was never provocative. The very person I trusted more then family and friends was the one who betrayed me.