Shay A.
Photography by Ben Curry
If you’re reading this, it’s okay to want to believe in something, and it’s okay to be wrong.
An intrinsic desire for attention that goes unfulfilled for too long will eventually consume you, because who doesn’t want to feel seen—understood? People would gaze at me with fascination, unsure where to place me in their stratosphere. Was it ever true interest or just a pestering curiosity demanding investigation and answers? This intrigue causes cognitive dissonance and acting out from an inability to cope with indeterminate attraction. I knew that when the popular boy asked me out as a joke in middle school. I knew that when I found out my first boyfriend “didn’t lie but withheld” that we were together. I knew that when a bet was made to see who could get with me first. I knew that when I realized what had happened after I blacked out.
Power and attraction are intrinsically linked. Undoubtedly, your confidence wavers when you don’t feel wanted. So do we cope by acting irrationally? Impulsively? How far will you go to prove that you’re worth it? I’ve found myself in situations where I asked those questions too late. At times as the chaser, others as the (sometimes unwilling) recipient.
When I was 16, during quarantine, I added a boy on Snapchat who lived 40-some minutes from me. This was a period when many of us were more open to strangers than our usual judgment would permit. He was someone I never would have spoken to in person, or rather, he wouldn’t have spoken to me. He said that himself, with the reasoning remaining unclear even now. Despite never meeting, he approached conversation brashly without leaving any room for subtlety.
“I want to see you intoxicated”—I never had been before.
This statement seemed to come far too easily as if that would be the true me, unfiltered and uninhibited. At least in this instance, I could only be assaulted by disappearing words and images on a screen. This lack of a filter kept me hooked as I wanted to know what he might say next. I found myself playing into a variable reward system that left me waiting for the next moment of futile and unfavorable attention.
This sort of dynamic persisted, only the person changed. I became hyper-aware of heightened tension and neverending back-and-forths. They couldn’t love me, but they also couldn’t stay away. Adolescence had shaken my confidence and I searched for reassurance in those who would never provide it. Nevertheless, my story is not one of self-blame.
I came into college hopeful, and while a little naive, with a bright outlook. How could someone destroy that so quickly? So suddenly? Some have said that it’s better that I was drunk enough to not recall every detail; others said I put myself in that situation by being drunk in the first place. I felt like I was falsifying information even to myself. No one wants to contend with the truth. It’s ‘taken advantage of’ not ‘sexual assault’, or ‘misconduct’ instead of ‘abuse’. If you verbalize it, then it becomes a reality.
If you tell a lie enough, you’ll eventually start believing your own made-up truth, such as you deserve less or nothing at all. My maladaptive mindset of pursuing reclamation of my own body led me to worse people than the original offender. Worse because they made me believe that they cared and that my trust in them was not misplaced. The gentlest hand can leave the sharpest sting if enough force is used. Physically, emotionally—aiming to take away all agency. But as the one on the receiving end, you’re not in the wrong for wanting someone to care. There might never be an explanation or a reason why. That sense of powerlessness lies in the perpetrator who tried to make you believe that you were not worth as much as you are.
Over time, I had to learn to trust myself again and to remind myself that it’s not naive to trust others. You are not what someone did to you. No one should be made to feel that they don’t deserve to seek out relationships, coming from a person who had once resigned herself to fleeting encounters. I needed to address myself and the truth of my past to move forward. By telling even this small part of my story, I refuse to let who I once was be buried. A girl with so much warmth, compassion, and personality. I know that still exists within you too.
Shay A., Colorado College
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