“Shattered Innocence"

Think back to when you were 15. What were you doing? Who were you? What was your maturity level like? What were you into? Adolescence is an interesting time in people's lives and can impact you for the rest of your life. It can affect your relationships, the way you see yourself, the way you show up to the world, and even how you respond in the middle of hard times. My adolescence was one of trauma and overcoming it throughout my life has been a journey of growth and healing.

It was my sophomore year of high school. My freshman year was brutal. I got asked out by one of the popular cowboys at our school, and I was so excited. My parents were divorced, and I was living with my dad because my mom and I were fighting so much. Living with my dad was easier. Let's just say he was newly divorced and doing bachelor things and paying attention to his high school daughter wasn’t high on his list. This boy, let's call him Tom to protect his identity (though he didn’t protect me), wanted to pick me up on a Friday night and hang out. My dad agreed, and Tom picked me up. We lived in a small town with not much to do. The local hangout was Sonic. He said we would go to Sonic and then hang out with friends. I was only allowed to be out for a few hours. Being a freshman, my dad didn’t want me gone long. My dad agreed to let me go out with Tom because he knew his family and used to hunt with his dad before his dad passed away.

Tom picked me up in his little extended cab truck. We lived in the mountains and had to drive down to town to go to Sonic. As we were coming down the hill, he stopped in the middle of the road and said, "Let’s go run over rabbits," and turned to the right on a road I knew led to the dump. As soon as he said this, my stomach dropped, and I had a bad feeling. This was back in the late '90s before cell phones. He started driving really fast and turned off the road to the dump onto a back trail dirt road, then turned again and drove for a bit before turning again. I thought to myself, "Shit, I don’t know where I am and I’m in the middle of the desert where no one can hear me." It was November, so it was dark outside, which didn’t help me know where I was with these random turns. He stopped at some trailer house and said, "This is our old house." He went to see if it was unlocked. I waited in the truck, praying to God that the house was locked. It was, and a sign of relief washed over me, but looking at him, he was pissed and kicked a wood pot by the door. I was terrified. He came back to the truck and said, "Let me see if the camper is unlocked." There was a small camper behind us in the dark. He came back and said, "It's unlocked, let's go," and pulled a blanket and a candle from his backseat. I was freaking out inside and pissed because he had this planned from the start. I walked to the trailer in pitch-black desert, thinking no one could hear me if I screamed and I had no idea what to do. I was 15.

He laid the table dinette down to make a bed, spread the blanket, and lit the candle. He said, "Come sit down." I sat next to him, gazing into the candle, and asked him, "How far do you want to go?" He replied, "As far as you want to go." He leaned over and started kissing me. I froze, petrified in fear, as he got on top of me and forced himself inside me. The pain was intense, and I started to cry as tears rolled down my face. I wanted to scream, to yell and fight, but I was frozen, scared of what he would do if I did. He was already mad that the house was locked and had kicked the pot—what would he do next? My shirt, pushed up around my throat, was choking me as he thrusted. I kept trying to pull it down so I could breathe. The pain was finally over, and I got up and wiped my tears. He seemed not to notice or care.

We got in the truck, my body in so much pain, and drove to Sonic. I stood by the edge of the truck, in shock and pain, as he talked to all his friends. He came back and said, "Let’s go." The whole time, he acted happy and flirty, as if everything was fine. We drove around and he took me to another place in the desert, started kissing me again. I said no that I was done. He didn’t stop. He kept pushing until his fingers were inside my pants. My vagina hurt, but he didn’t stop. He kept fingering me until I felt a strange, big release. Then he just stopped and said he had to get me home.

As soon as I walked in the door, my dad stood in front of me, asking a hundred questions. I didn’t say anything, scared I would get in trouble. I went to my room and saw my pants had blood smears. My underwear was covered in blood. I was terrified. This hadn’t been there when we went to Sonic. I called my neighbor Amy, who was older and in college. I told her what had happened and asked why I had blood all over. I was shocked when she said he had popped my cherry with his fingers. I had never heard of this and was confused, with emotions all over the place.

That Monday, Tom came up to me, still flirting, and asked me to be his girlfriend. I was pissed at him but confused because I really liked him. How could he do this and now want me to be his girlfriend? The twist of games was confusing for a 15-year-old who just wanted to be accepted and liked. I said yes because I thought I should date him because of what we did. We dated for a month before he dumped me and told the whole school I was a whore. After he dumped me, a girl told me he did the same to her freshman year. This was his pattern: getting freshman girls who were virgins, having sex with them the first time they hung out, dating them for a while, then breaking up and talking trash to make himself look cool. I was embarrassed that I fell for this. I thought he liked me, but I was just another girl in his game. He used girls and ruined their reputations because of his own issues.

I cried so much for the next month. I told my dad what had happened, and he called Tom’s mom. She said I was a whore and had thrown myself on her son. To this day, Tom says that story. His version makes him look like the victim, and me a whore obsessed with him. The truth is, he did something wrong—it was date rape.

I want women to know that what happened to you doesn’t define you, and the stories told about you aren’t who you are. Your traumas and experiences are things that happened to you, not who you are. We can grow from them, learn deeper pieces about ourselves, heal the parts of us that experienced pain and trauma. Nurture yourself, forgive yourself, and in time, forgive the person who caused the trauma.

I didn’t forget or forgive for a long time. I held that pain and those memories in my mind, heart, and womb for years. I still can’t have sex with a shirt on because of the trauma of not being able to breathe during my first time. In my early 30’s, I began my journey of looking within. Healing is like an onion-you heal in layers. I have healed and forgiven myself and Tom. As I write this, I feel a slight sadness in my heart and a burning in my throat. Some of you might have had your innocence taken at a young age, buried the pain and trauma deep, and it’s affecting your life, relationships, and health today. I want you to know I see you, and it’s okay to let that pain out and heal. It’s an old story, and you don’t live there anymore. You aren’t the person you used to be. You are smarter, wiser, and stronger than that version of you. It’s time to let that out, to be healed, and to let it go.

~Tawnya Marie