Sabrina’s Story: A Silent Fighter

Sabrina’s Story: A Silent Fighter

My story:

I will not be a victim, I will be a voice.
Although my voice may shake I am not weak.
I am not just a survivor, I am a fighter!

A girls night out took a turn for the worst, innocent flirting and being a tease with no intentions, became a horror movie I would replay in my head for days on end. A fun single girl and a lying man in a relationship. Text messages and sexts exchanged for giggles, a ride home, a drunk friend, and no way to drive. A angry sexual assaulter your sober selfed braved. Watching a drunk friend pass out in the floor as a bad feeling you gain. It’s grabbing, pulling, and disgust. It’s multiple “no’s”,”please I don’t want to”, and shoving. It will stop time in a matter of seconds and minutes. It’s white refrigerator doors and a black standing paint light. It’s ripped panties, a bruise,and a bite mark on your left thigh. It’s endless showers, self blame,and accusations. lt leaves you paralyzed in a bed of shame, guilt, and worthlessness for days with no shower. Worse than “it” is being trapped inside your own head with no way of escape. It’s a blur,but at times it’s a slow motion picture. It’s threats and talks about a gun and keeping your mouth shut. It’s a rational pep talk and a logical to do list you play out in your head. It’s a small town detective questioning you making you feel guilty,but just doing his job. It’s isolation and going through the motions of everyday. It’s sleepless nights and sleeping for days. It’s words like slut,whore, and liar. It’s replaying how you’d do this or that different. It’s a relationship ruiner, low self-esteem, and developing mental illnesses. It’s havig to now deal with bipolar disorder and ptsd. It’s night terrors, trust issues, and paranoia. It’s a loss of a friend and tears rolling down a cheek. It’s finding your way to pills, a cold sharp blade, or the bottom of a bottle. It’s heart break and a pain beyond comprehension. It doesn’t discriminate and It leaves you wanting to die.
What is it?
It’s a four letter word and IT’S rape.
I was 19 and he was my neighbor. (Still is)
I am a beautiful victim of an ugly circumstance, but it does not define me.
They do not define you.
You are not just a survivor you are a FIGHTER, because everyday you fight for your life.
There are fighters fighting a silent fight you know nothing about.



When You're is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories.



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