Dara C.
Photography by Cat White
Before reading, please know Dara’s letter contains mentions of sexual assault. If you feel reading this kind of content may trigger you, we suggest you read another letter, such as this one.
If you’re reading this, that feeling won’t last forever.
After reading past letters, I knew I needed to write my own, but mostly as a reminder to myself. I am a firm believer in never minimizing your feelings for someone else’s experiences. Every feeling you feel is real and true to you, and it should be cared for and believed. While I may say this and believe it for others, I never seem to believe it for myself.
From the outside, no one would see my struggles. When I leave my apartment to go anywhere, it can feel like I’m wearing a mask. Behind that mask, I am a daughter, a sister, a fourth-year double major, I work, I volunteer, I serve on multiple CIO executive boards, and try to fill up my time with anything and everything. I do this for a reason. I have always tried to run from my feelings, to overcompensate, and to put on that fake smile to show everything is okay. I have experienced trauma before, I’ve been in therapy for over five years, I know plenty of coping skills. But everything seemed to stop mattering after what happened last semester.
In the spring semester of my third year, I was raped. Every feeling I felt seemed like it was going to last forever. The pain, the confusion, the disgust. Everything was so heavy I thought it was going to take over my life. I tried to push it away; I tried to act like I was fine. A week after it happened, I walked as a model in a fashion show. No one knew that before practice I was at the police station or meeting with Title IX. I am forever grateful for my mom, who flew from New York as soon as I called her the day after the assault, and stayed with me through every meeting and brought me to every practice. She’s the reason I know those feelings won't last forever.
While no legal justice came from what happened to me, and there are days I am afraid to leave my apartment for fear I’ll see him as I walk to class, I know what happened was not my fault. I didn’t do anything wrong. As I began to share my story, I learned that sexual assault is an issue on Grounds that needs to be addressed. I hated the feeling of being helpless and knew I needed to do something. Part of that “something” was becoming a volunteer at SARA, the Sexual Assault Resource Agency, here in Charlottesville, and the next part is this letter. A reminder to myself and to any other survivor that those feelings won’t last forever. You will smile again, you’ll have fun again, you won’t be afraid anymore.
While sharing my story was extremely hard, (and if this letter wasn’t typed the paper would be soaked through) I now know I have nothing to be ashamed of, and neither do you. You don’t have to hide, and when you tell your story, do not feel obligated to comfort others based on your experience. Those feelings will not last forever, they will change. While some feelings may resurface, I find it helpful to remind myself that I am safe, I am loved, and I am more than what happened to me and I hope this letter reminds you of the same.
Dara C., University of Virginia
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