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A part of me was afraid of retaliation, but there wasn’t any. Chad Moniz, Aaron’s father and my father’s boss, was a coward. He was too embarrassed and hid away from all the slander and media.
But then something crazy happened.
More girls came forward. Some reported Aaron raped them, and others reported Chad sexually harassed them in the office.
I went online and looked up the girls who filed a claim against Aaron. I found them on social media and sent out a message. At first, I felt weird, like a stalker or something, but I told them they didn’t have to message me back. That it felt good to find girls who went through the same thing as me. And that we’re not alone in this.
Soon I was messaging with a couple of girls on the regular, and new friendships were created. They became a huge part of my healing process, and I promised to keep in touch when summer ended and our lives became hectic again.
I started reading again, and eventually, I picked up a pen.
The words stalled at first, and I wanted to give up.
But I kept trying, and then it was like a faucet left running. I’d write and write for hours. Until my hand ached and went numb.
I looked into changing my major back to what I really want to do—English lit with a minor in creative writing.
Thankfully, I have a ton of credits and will only need an extra year to finish my degree. I would have agreed to as many years as I needed to. As long as I’m writing and pursuing what I want.
I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol or went to a single party. Nor have I hooked up with anyone. It feels good to be learning how to be back in my old skin again but also accepting the changed me as well. As much as I want to, I can’t ignore what happened. It altered the course of my life. But with time comes acceptance, and then the healing really begins.
Give yourself time. Give yourself grace.
You’ve been through a lot, Len.
It’s okay to feel it all and not be okay.
You’ll get there, I promise.
I read my therapist’s words over and over again from where I wrote them down in my journal.
The hardest thing she’s taught me is to go easy on myself. To stop blaming or thinking I deserved what I got.
Because I didn’t. No one deserves to be taken advantage of in any way they're not comfortable with.
I hope Aaron thinks long and hard about all the damage he did, and I really hope he’s convicted and spends time in jail.
With everything going on, my summer flies by. Soon, I’m packing my bags to head back to school.
Not a day has gone by that I didn’t think of Holden. He’s always there in the back of my mind, his sexy smile getting me through my hard days. The sound of his laughter or the way he made me feel like the most gorgeous girl on the planet.
I find myself writing poems about him or about love.
I don’t realize it until my therapist points it out one day. “So who’s the lucky guy?”
“There’s no lucky guy. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Hmm, interesting. Because your poems sure do tell a different story.”
“What story is that?”
“The one of your heart, Len.”
Maybe she’s right, but it doesn’t matter. That story is over.
So I formulate a plan for myself. I need time and space to heal. But more importantly, I need to do it alone. Without all of the partying and hookups. Without the complications of a relationship or sex.
Because the real truth is I’m scared. Opening myself up and showing all the raw parts, all the scars—that’s what’s terrifying. But if I don’t face it head-on by myself, how will I ever get through anything on my own?
