To The Boy Who Glared And The Boy Who Dared Touch Me

For my sociology final, we got to choose a current event to present to the class. I chose Taylor Swift’s sexual assault case.

Already nervous and red in the face, I stand in front of my peers and state what I am going to discuss. I look up from the flashcards shaking in my hands. My eyes land upon a boy at the back of the class who gives me the dirtiest look. He leans over to his friends and I can hear him complaining already.

This is for him.

Taylor stood up for me.

I was assaulted sophmore year of high school. I was so terrified. I had always told myself that if it happens, I would yell at whoever did it to me. I told myself I would speak up…. that didn’t happen. I continued on with my day, sitting silently, my entire body shaking while in class, holding back tears. I was so shaken up I couldn’t function.


Here we are years later and I find out my Idol, my #1, my everything went through the same thing. She goes out there and defends herself. She speaks up and fights against this man…. and wins. So many other people then feel more comfortable to speak up about their own personal experiences.

The only person I had told about the first incident was my ex boyfriend two years after it had happened. He even said how disgusting and terrible that was, but at the time, I believed that if I spoke up people would think I was being overdramatic. He was so driven to find the guy and to make him pay for what he had done to me. I did not have a clear image of who had done it to me. There were no witnesses. It was only my word. I had nothing.

When on my first date junior year, I told the boy “no”, and he tried taking advantage of me anyways.

When I got into a boys car the first week of college and I let him kiss me. He assumed that was an invitation to try to get in my pants. I guess I had read the situation wrong.

When the British boy offered to walk me home a week ago when I wasn’t completely sane, only to try and take advantage of me.

Now, none of these events climaxed to anything too traumatic, but they still happened. They still made me feel uncomfortable. A shower could not wash away the disgust and shame painted across my body.

So to the boy who was rude to me during my presentation, you clearly do not understand. To the boy who dared lay a hand on me, I hope you learn. To the boys who expected so much more than I was willing to offer, learn to be respectful.

I hope that no other person has to go through this shit. That’s my wish. That’s my hope. Please, if anything happens to you, speak up. Tell someone, whether it’s your parents, a school counselor, a teacher, or even a best friend. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been.

So thank you to Taylor for defending not only yourself, but so many others including myself. I love you with all of my ♡

“Why do you love taylor?”

This is only one example out of millions for why I love this woman.

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