Me Too

The following is an opinion piece written by Ellie Jones. It was originally posted on Tumblr and minor edits have been made for content and language. Trigger warnings for sexual assault and sexual abuse.

In light of the recent MeToo tag on social media, I have been compelled to write about my own sexual assault experience and why I have been scared to contribute to the Me Too tag altogether until now. Writing has always helped me express my emotions and this is the first time I have revisited any of this since it happened about six weeks ago so this is my therapy.

As you’re probably aware, I spent this summer in the US, two months working at camp and three and a half weeks travelling by myself. Florid to Los Angeles and finally New York City. The idea of me travelling alone hadn’t set in all summer until we all tearfully has to say goodbye to each other at the end of camp/ Due to being let out of camp earlier than expected, last minute I tagged along with two of my friends for a day in NYC. It was amazing, to say the least and I was in awe of how the buildings seemed to touch the sky. I pretty confidently walked by myself at night time back to my hotel after having dinner with my friends. I felt like nothing could touch me.

So my time in Florida and LA passed and I was looking forward to spending my final six days in the USA in the city that never sleeps, New York City. I arrived pretty late at night and wanted to rest ahead of my full day of exploring the city. Having already been up the top of the Rockefeller Centre, I wasn’t too fazed about having to spend a lot of money on tourist attractions and was quite happy wandering and taking in the city. So, the next day I woke up pretty early and headed on the subway from Brooklyn to the centre of New York. I had decided to visit a museum, it was what it was and to be honest, I loved it. For the rest of the day I just wandered, pretending I was some kind of undercover celeb, strutting around the streets as if I owned them. Needless to say, I was confident. I had had a few wolf whistles and a couple of leery comments when I walked past a table of men, nut I brushed them off, the same thing happens in the Uk all the time.

At the end of the day, I found myself people watching in Times Square but, as it was getting late, I decided to head home as I didn’t want to have to get on the subway late at night. So, I began my walk to the subway station. Now, in Time Square, there are so many street performers and people trying to sell you stuff, and I encountered one of the people on my walk back, an encounter I thought was brief and meaningless despite pleasantries and compliments. Anyway, I headed to the station and just as I was about to go through the gate, someone tapped me on the shoulder, “Hi, I’m really sorry, I don’t mean to be strange, I’d just really like to ask you out for dinner.” I was the guy I’d had a brief conversation with in Times Square. At this point in my trip, I was skint and thought to myself ‘YES I am going to be impulsive and say yes’. So I did. So he bought me pizza and we sat next to Madison Square Gardens in the sun and talked and I thought he was a genuinely nice guy.

Still aware of the time, I said, “Thank you so much for dinner, I’ve had a lovely time getting to know you but I really need to go home now, I don’t want to be in the city after dark.” HIs demeanour changed and he said “Don’t worry, I’m going to look after you tonight.” I didn’t really know what to say but I made it clear to him that I was going home and he didn’t say anything but walked me to the subway station. He stood in front of me getting his ticket and the turned around and gave it to me. “You’re coming with me.” He didn’t come across as if he was being aggressive but I suddenly felt like if I ran away or said no, he would get me eventually. So, I complied. We were on the train for half an hour, the whole journey he was in my face, just kind of staring into me and I had no room to move away. After what seemed like the longest trip of my life, I found us in New Jersey and I can’t tell you how frightened I was. I appreciate that if you’re reading this right now, you’re probably thinking, ‘Why didn’t you just run away? Or ask someone for help?’, I don’t know but I can tell you, I had begun to fear for my life and that is not a thing I say lightly.

As soon as we were off the train, he hailed a cab and showed the driver an address. I had no idea where he was taking me and I couldn’t help but wonder if this taxi ride would be the last journey I ever took.

I got in. For me now, I replay all of this in my head like I’m that girl in the horror film that walks up the stairs when the monster is there and you’re screaming, “No!! What are you doing you stupid girl, it’s clearly going to get you!!”

Well, he did. Not quite in the way I had imagined, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this now. But he got me. We travelled for around half an hour along a motorway and pulled up to a cluster of hotels and motels. I think at this point, I had accepted my fate, I was either going to be raped or murdered. Or both. He took me up to a dingy room and closed the door behind him. I needed the bathroom so I locked myself in for a while, my phone battery about to die. I didn’t risk trying to call anyone incase I wouldn’t be able to find my way back if he let me go. I opened the door and he had the most horrific and animalistic look to him. I don’t need to go into detail about what happened. I wasn’t raped but I was badly sexually violated. I did not at any point give my consent and repeatedly pleaded for him to stop during the whole ordeal which lasted for about 45 minutes.

The reason that I have been spurred to write about my experience is the MeToo tag that has been circulating on social media in the light of the Harvey Weinstein sexual assault allegations. This evening, I read an article in the Total Sorority Move Facebook that was posted by a Facebook friend and totally summed up my thought on the tag. Many of you reading this probably think it was my fault, I could have prevented it from happening from the word go. Many of you may think that ultimately it wasn’t that bad. I wasn’t raped or murdered like I had thought I would be and I should be thankful for that and trust me, I am. And, ultimately, I wouldn’t disagree with you. I haven’t been able to share my MeToo story because I know that so many other people have been in situations a hundred times worse than mine. To quote the article my friend wrote “I feel guilty for using those words (MeToo), I feel like I’m being dramatic. Or desperate to be apart of the conversation for attention. I feel like I’m exaggerating.” However, she goes on further to say that it doesn’t have to be ‘bad enough’ for it to count.

I am a victim regardless of how you or I may categorise my assault. That’s just what I am.

I’m also a survivor. So yes, MeToo. To every person that has shared their story, I stand with you. To every person that has shared their story, I stand with you. To every person that hasn’t, I stand with you. I am more than my sexual assault. For those of you that have read this and considered it attention seeking, fine. I didn’t write this for you, I’ve written it this for me and I hope that I’ve written this for other people that have had similar experiences to mine.

You are not alone.

You are loved.