This Is My Story

You might be wondering, “Who are you and why should I read what you have to say?” And in all honesty, I’m just your average girl, but I’m also a survivor. I’m a survivor of sexual assault, and no matter how hard I try to be a “normal” girl, that girl disappeared when I was 15 and was replaced with a girl whose life purpose is to help others through sharing her experience. That's me, Emily.

But there’s more. I’m also a survivor of molestation. Something that I only recently admitted to myself and just now am finding my voice for. And I’m a self-defense instructor. It’s through practicing self-defense that I have even been able to find my voice and the strength to use it to speak out about what I have been through and what I have learned along the way. This is my story about my pursuit of fearlessness.

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When I was 15-years old, I was sexually assaulted on my high school campus. I was studying in one of the courtyards after school when I noticed a man walking around the area and lurking into the nearby classrooms. At the time I didn’t realize it, but my intuition was telling me that something was off about the situation. I even went as far as to text my friend saying I was nervous, maybe even a little scared.

But like most people, I ignored that feeling in my gut and brushed it off as paranoia. I was 15 for God’s sake - I wasn't even thinking about what could possibly happen; I was more focused on acing the Algebra 2 test I was studying for and texting the boy I secretly had a crush on (in that order).

So I went back to studying, solving quadratic functions and drawing parabolas when I was grabbed from behind. That mother fucker ruined my damn parabola! But in all honesty, he messed up a lot more than just my graph. He told me to “shut up” and “don’t say anything.”

If you know me, you know that I hate when people to tell me to shut up. I just get louder. And that’s exactly what I did. I yelled and yelled and yelled and never stopped.

For what felt like a lifetime, I went from worrying about my math test to thinking I was going to die in between countless punches to my face and knocks to the ground. I realized he was trying to rape me when he started to rip off my pants and underwear with his teeth. There was no way in hell I was going to let this asshole rape me, so I started kicking repeatedly until eventually he gave up and ran away.

Wait. Did he really just run away? I couldn’t believe it. Was he really too much of a coward to put up with a fight? Holy shit. Yes! Let’s be real, anyone that tries to elicit fear in another person in order to assert power and dominance over them is a coward. No question.

I went to the edge of the courtyard and peaked around the corner to make sure he had really ran away. He did. I grabbed my phone and called my dad crying. “Dad, I was just attacked.”

7 minutes.

It was 7 minutes from the time I texted my friend to the time I called my dad after the assault.

Followed by 8 hours of being poked, prodded, swabbed and photographed while recounting my story to every police officer, detective, doctor, nurse, crisis counselor and forensic examiner.

Two months later, while still in counseling for my assault, I woke up to my long-time family friend touching me inappropriately. Something I didn’t even realize was classified as molestation until 10 years later.

Three months after that, I started taking self-defense and never stopped.

I had mainly hoped that self-defense would teach me what to do if something ever happened to me again, and it did, but it also gave me the confidence to walk proud and with my head held high, to walk with purpose and without feeling the need to constantly look over my shoulder, and to continue living my life fearlessly. But most of all, it also allowed me to take ownership of what happened to me through sharing my story with other people.

I began sharing my story at high schools around Los Angeles County and teaching the self-defense techniques that I had learned. I was determined to bring awareness to sexual violence and hopefully make an impact on people along the way.

Nearly 3 years after my assault, I faced my attacker in court. By far, one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. And not because I was face-to-face with the man that did this to me, but because even with coaching on what might happen out there on the stand, nothing fully prepares you for being victim shamed by the defense attorney. Nobody warns you that the sister of your attacker is going to come crying to you in the bathroom swearing that her brother could never do something like that. And no one explains that it is perfectly normal and incredibly common for you to not recognize that man sitting across from you as your attacker even though he has admitted to assaulting you. No one braces you for the fact that your memory plays tricks on you; that after time it is highly likely for you to forget details of an event and a man you thought were permanently etched in your memory.

I realize how fortunate I am to have been able to go to trial and testify to put my attacker behind bars for life, because many survivors don’t get that opportunity. Many live knowing that their abuser is still walking on the streets. And though I am relieved beyond measure to know my attacker isn’t able to do this to another young girl ever again, I know that there is still a lot of healing to be done.

Even today, all these years later, self-defense is still immensely therapeutic. I now understand that self-defense isn’t just about physical techniques and it isn’t about learning to live without any fear because that’s impossible. It’s about understanding that fear is a survival signal that can be used to your advantage. It’s about listening to your body, trusting your intuition, and feeling empowered enough to make the choices that are right for you.

And that brings us to now. No matter where you are on your journey, whether you had an experience of your own that brought you here or you are simply just curious (or you are a friend of my mom’s and she strongly urged you to come visit my page), know that you are never alone on the pursuit of fearlessness.

In fearless pursuit,

Emily