“Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about unbecoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place” (Unknown). Kindergarten, first, second grade...these were the preeminent years of my life. The majority of people may not choose to cherish these years, but for me, they were substantial. My name is Day, and I only made it halfway through my third grade year before my life was overturned. Prior to that, I had everything a little girl could want. My parents had always done everything in their power to give me the best things in life. Cheer, ballet, tumbling, friends, clubs, trips, this is only a fraction of what my life was like. I had it all. Then came the day; I entered the front door after a lengthy day at school, to find my house stowed away in boxes. The only empty box was that of an air mattress, that me and my family would be sleeping on for the night. Don’t get me wrong, I was a tiny bit enthusiastic about this move, but it was also tremendously daunting. At least they say though that, “home is where your family is” so wherever we would go would become my new home.
The sun rose and we all woke up. Our boxes, along with us, made their way to the car. As we pulled away from our driveway I was led astray. No goodbyes, and there you have it. At only 9 years of age I was starting over. We drove into a measly, weary town that even at 9 years old, I could tell was the ultimate downgrade. As we pulled into this town, a sign on my right hand side described this town as unique. Yeah right, because antique shops, two small gas stations, a school, and a couple tumble weeds were a hell of a sight. What I didn’t know at the time we were pulling into this town, is that it would be my perdition. I started third grade in the next town over, and after just my first day I felt already that this place was not where I belonged. I was nothing to anybody here, but again I thought about my family. My home life was great. I had two new sisters, Trinity and Treasure, only a year apart from one another. These two beautiful souls were now my life and best friends on earth.
After this move, school became a necessity to me. It was no longer just something I adored. Or maybe I could say that I still appreciated school, just not the people there. Starting my third grade year, I began experiencing something I never had before, Other students were brutish, making me feel like a pariah. Still only 9 years old I was already questioning my appearance and who I was, making me highly diffident. I had only made one true friend at this point. Her name was Linzy, and luckily to this day I still have her in my life. The bullying I had been experiencing continued for me all through middle school until I reached the eighth grade, and the only people who could make it better was my Linzy and my family.
Though I had family and an encouraging best friend, I was still missing something. Love was absent from my life. Not the kind of love you get from your family because I was plentiful in that zone, but the love you would get from a group of friends or even a boy. Being an eighth grader you notice that the girls around you start to have boyfriends and get called beautiful all the time, so the idea of wanting a boyfriend is then planted in your mind. At this age, yes I had recieved my first kiss, but I had never been called beautiful by a boy.
Halfway through my eighth grade year, I couldn’t grasp the thought of continuing to stay in the school that was tearing my confidence to pieces. As soon as something entirely unpleasant occurred, me and my mom took the opportunity to switch schools for me. Within one day I went from a small town school tearing me apart to a big city school where I was 100% alone. I finished up my year and headed into the summer before my freshmen year of highschool, confused about everything. In hopes of meeting a nice young boy, my ignorant and naive self hopped online and started signing up for dating and talking websites. It was only a few days into my online search that I found a young boy who had went to the same school I was currently going to enroll into.
After a full night on the phone getting to know this great guy, I made an agreement to sneak out and meet him alone. On a snug summer’s night, I made my way out the back door and over the back gate that once kept me sheltered inside. I walked down the inky block to a car that sat under the street light waiting for my young soul to get inside. Then I saw him, the boy behind the voice on the phone. He made his way towards me and the first words to leave his mouth were, “wow you are so beautiful.” He had immediately hit my weak spot, and so I got in the car and left with him to his house. The first night in his house was quiet and expected, it was there that I received my second kiss ever. My heart was melting with this guy.
The second night I decided to make the same impetuous decision. Again I snuck out that door and over that fence with the hope that this night would be just like the other, but it wasn’t. I remember the room clearly. It reeked of weed, but it was cozy and small. His desk sat in the corner by his closet, and the tv was perched in front of his small couch. On one wall was a hat that his dad had given him and in the left hand corner on his room was his bed, the bed where at fourteen years old...my life was forever changed. In this bed my wings were torn off. For him the act was painless and quick, for me it was an incapacitating eternity.
Sitting next to this wrongdoer, this horrid soul, this monster, the whole ride home was my most heinous nightmare. After arriving at my home, my body was broken and only allowed me to lay and weep. My nightmare would remain a secret because I didn’t want my parents to hate me. How do you tell your parents, how do you tell anyone, that at only fourteen years old...you were raped and it’s your own fault. No matter how many times I begged for him to stop, no matter how many times I begged God to make it end, I felt like I could’ve done more to prevent it. My beliefs began to waiver because what God, has you assaulted, because he “has a plan for you.”
After years of letting the pain ball up and getting into trouble here and there, my life has finally started going back to normal. A short time with people who had been through similar situations, different situations, and worse situations helped me see that I wasn’t alone. My beliefs are slowly starting to come back into sight, and thanks to my wonderful husband and the love of my life, my heart and confidence is repaired. My story though it is sad, is a part of who I have become. I am 18 now, and I can say it. I was raped, but I am not a victim. I am a survivor, I am a thriver, I am okay.