Being High isn’t a Yes

Dear Survivor,

I’ll be honest; I’ve struggled with what happened to me because it actually felt like it was my fault. If I didn’t go see my ex alone and smoke pot out of that weird pumpkin/jack-o-lantern trick-or-treat like basket thing, this wouldn’t have happened. And honestly, it felt like a long time I dreamt it because I felt like I wasn’t even present for it. And technically, I wasn’t because there was something else within the pot that made me drift in and out of consciousness. I remember saying no, I remember him being kind of drunk himself, and I remember getting up to leave to go back to my dorm. That’s really it.

That semester, I completely bombed my grades. The type A, 3.9 GPA community college transfer, got a 1.4 GPA that semester. And it wasn’t until I received my grades that I actually woke up from the fog and remembered who the fuck I was. I put that night behind me, got myself out of academic probation, and continued to have a great college career. So much so that I now go back to that college and mentor students about how to have a career and business like mine.

And I’ve gone back and forth on doing this photoshoot. Because my story feels fake. Not real. Not violent. Not as bad as it could have been - not like so many other survivors I know. And I’m in a male dominated industry, and I will be judged for doing this even from the people closest to me that know this story.

But here’s what I’m thankful for, the two friends that knew about this and applauded me for stepping up to share this story - reminding me that my story is probably more common than I originally thought. That women need to know that this isn’t ok even if you did smoke the pot. Because so many other normal things could have happened that night even if we did smoke - we could have watched a movie, played games...talked.

I can’t change what happened, but I can tell you now that I hardly think about it. It was a blip in my journey and has made me the strong person I am today. I have so much more good in my life that it cancels it out. Would I have been able to imagine my life today from that semester? Probably not, and I know if you’re in the trenches of it, you probably can’t see it either. So I’m going to lend you some of my belief - hold on to it as tight as you need to - it will get better. Talk to somebody, do the work to change the stories you’re telling yourself in your head, borrow some of my belief, and it will get better.

- Chelsea