I was 14 and he was 16. I thought he “loved” me. After an attempt on taking my own life I realized what had actually happened—I had been sexually assaulted. I could have gotten a restraining order, but I didn’t want people to get upset at me. I already felt ashamed, like I was in the wrong, so why should he be punished? I wanted to be accepted, but I wasn’t. People didn’t believe me, they believed him. That hurt for three years until he was out of the same school as me. But now I’m thriving, I love my skin, I don’t feel as though ALL eyes are on me, judging me.