A Story I've Not Yet Told

Lately I've been feeling like I am living in a pressure cooker. With so much pent up in me of words I have not said, I need a release.

So here is a story I have not yet told.

It was July 2010. I was at a country music festival for the long weekend, waiting excitedly to see Keith Urban play on the last day.

I had gone with a friend whom I knew from school, she offered me a ride and a place to camp out. I didn't know many of her friends, but I didn't think that mattered, it was bound to be an amazing weekend.

We got to the grounds and quickly unpacked our bags so we could join the others sitting around the campsite drinking and laughing. I was so excited.

Before I knew it, I felt relaxed. My anxiety and shyness around new people was gone. We danced and sang along to the songs being performed and laughed so much. I felt happy.

We all stumbled back to our campsite and we all found a place to crash for the night in the first available tent we found. I was in a tent with another girl I knew from school and a guy I had never met before that night.

We had stayed up for a while, talking about our lives and telling jokes until we all started to grow silent with exhaustion. I had begun falling asleep with a smile on my face. I was having a great time.

Then I woke up.

I thought I was having a night terror. Night terrors were a common wake-up call for me as I was trying to cope with my past trauma.

But the horror and fear grew deeper when I realized it wasn't a night terror after all.

The guy in the tent had his hands down my pants.

I tried not to move a muscle. I had hoped that if he thought I was asleep, he would stop.

He didn't.

It felt like an eternity before he stopped touching me. I felt so thankful when it was over. Then he whispered in my ear "Now it's my turn".

Panic consumed me. It wasn't over. I stayed completely still with my eyes closed pretending I didn't hear anything.

Then he took my arm and started to pull it towards his crotch. I pulled back as hard as I could and finally opened my eyes in terror.

"You do this, or you get out of my tent."

It was pouring rain and I had no where else to sleep.

But I got up as fast as I could to get out of that tent as flashbacks of previous trauma's ripped through my mind and flashed across my eyes. As I tried to unzip the door, I just prayed he would not pull me back down.

I got out of the tent in nothing but my pj's. As I stepped out onto that muddy ground, I then realized I didn't grab shoes. It was raining so hard and I was soaked in seconds. My feet covered in mud.

I stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out what to do next. I walked around and tried every car door handle I could find on our site. By some miracle, one of them was open. I crawled into the backseat and curled up into a ball shivering and terrified. I didn't sleep a wink that night.

By 7am, the sun was rising and people were starting the new day. The party was starting again.

I walked out from the backseat of that car before anyone noticed I was in there, and I spent the rest of the day acting as if nothing at all had happened. But inside all I wanted was to die. How could I be so stupid to let this happen again. I must surely deserve it this time. The thoughts were all consuming. I felt dirty and disgusting. The haunting ideas that all I am of value for was what was between my legs came crashing back around me. I wanted to disappear forever.

Then the next day I got to see Keith Urban perform at the festival.

I got to hear Keith's music flow through my vains and replace trauma with beautiful healing. The smile returned to my face and I remembered why being alive is worth it. Warmth enveloped me and I knew I was going to be okay.

People may never understand the power of Keith's music and Keith's story of triumph to me, but he was and always will be an incredible light in such all-consuming darkness.

When I feel crippled with self-blame, I turn on his music. When I wake up, sweat drenched in the middle of the night from a night terror, I turn on his music. When I feel so unsafe in this world, I turn on his music

and I feel

okay.

#sexualassault #keithurban #survival