December 1995
The first time I was raped by my junior high friend is when I went to visit him in December 1995 at his duty station. He told my friend who drove down with me that he wanted to talk to me alone about something personal. It was then my junior high friend and I went into his bathroom to talk privately. Once inside, he locked both his room’s door and his suitemate’s. He sat me down on the counter in his small, musty bathroom. He then proceeded to force himself upon me. I was caught off guard and trapped between him and the counter. I didn’t push him away or resist. I just froze, feeling shocked and embarrassed.
November 8, 1996
My junior high best friend drove up from his duty station to visit for Veteran’s Day weekend in 1996. We had this planned for a few weeks. When he called to finalize the plans for his visit, I made it abundantly clear that sex was off the table. I’d reached a point in my faith where I knew I couldn’t compromise my values and still be a true witness for God.
He arrived around 5:30 P.M. He washed up, changed clothes, and we left for dinner a short time later. We ate dinner at a local chain restaurant that had been a favorite of ours since we were kids, reminiscent to times when we were in high school band together.
We drove back to my duty station around 8:00 P.M. When we were back in my room, we changed into our bed clothes and laid down to watch a movie together. When the movie ended, we decided to go to sleep. That wasn’t before we began kissing, which didn’t make me uncomfortable at first. When he began pushing for more, I told him no and tried to push him away. He persisted, ignoring my clear boundaries. I didn’t experience physical pain, but I felt a deep wave of shame, heartbreak, and betrayal. I couldn’t believe that the friend I had trusted since I was 13 could disregard me like this. He said he loved me. We had been talking about marriage. You don’t do this to someone you claim you want to spend the rest of your life with and have babies with.
Trauma Therapy
It took years of trauma therapy to understand that what happened that night in December 1995 was rape. My old friend didn’t ask or check if I wanted to—it just happened. Looking back, I felt a lot of shame for not stopping him, even though I now realize that silence and shock doesn’t mean consent. It’s a result of fight, flight, or freeze, and I froze.
On the night of November 8, 1996, I was clear about my boundaries, yet he chose to violate them. When I returned from my deployment in April 1997, an Air Force JAG lawyer at Edwards informed me that my former friend’s account of my assault read like a romance novel. Later, I learned that the Air Force Office of Special Investigations mishandled my case, passing it to NCIS and letting important details slip through the cracks.
I am incredibly grateful for my trauma therapist. Her dedication and the therapeutic approaches she’s used—and those she’s referred me to—have played a key role in helping me heal. Thanks to one of these modalities, I found the strength to face him on September 23, 2024, during a public event hosted by my high school choir.