I am a Conqueror

  • Published
  • By 35th Fighter Wing
  • Public Affairs
The following story is the continued accounts of the narrator's story. To respect the speaker's privacy, the name of the narrator will be with held. In this woman's story, she bravely recounts a terrible truth in her life.

It was the year 2000. I was an Airman 1st Class, 22 years old, at my first duty station and of the cusp of my first marriage. I had joined the honor guard and I wore that uniform with pride.

The first time he touched me was during practice. I was shocked; I'd never experienced something like this before and I didn't know what to do. I tried to ignore it, but then he did it again and again and again ...

You have to understand, this was my first experience in the military life. To me, rank meant everything and he outranked me by a lot. When he would tell me to "... do this," or "stand here" or "don't move", I did it because he out ranked me by so much and I never thought that he ... I mean, he was married.

I didn't say anything to anybody. We didn't have the sexual assault response coordinator program that we have now. I knew I could've gone to the mental health clinic or even seen a chaplain, but every time I thought about it, all I saw were the uniforms and the rank. I thought to myself, I'm just an A1C, our words don't hold much water. In the end I just didn't feel comfortable talking to them.

I couldn't talk to my husband, we hadn't been married long and I just didn't feel comfortable bringing it up. I didn't say anything to my parents; they'd been so excited for me. I'd been away from home before, going to college and such, but this was different. They'd been saying how "their baby girl was in the best Air Force in the world," and everything, and I just didn't know how to tell them what was happening to me.

Despite all of those reasons, I knew some people would ask, "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you yell for help," and this, that and the other. I know, cause I would have said the same if it hadn't been me. I guess, I couldn't believe this was going on. I couldn't ... Who's going to listen to what I had to say? Who'd believe me? And, I guess, deep down, I didn't want to cause trouble within the unit. So, when it would happen, I just sort of froze up.

For a while I was ashamed and embarrassed. I felt sad a lot and like a coward because I didn't say anything. Then, one day, I sat on my bed and just thought about what was happening to me. I told myself that if I couldn't talk to someone else, then I would have to do something. I needed to take responsibility for myself. I needed to stop hanging around places that leave me vulnerable; I came up with ways to prevent me from being alone. This was my life; this is my responsibility, only I am allowed to have control of what happens to me.

In the end, I confronted him, told him in the most direct manner to never touch me again. Should he refuse and continue, I will take it up with the chain of command. Of course, he said, "no one's going to believe you," and "you liked it ... you let this happen," and this and that. But, I held firm and he left me alone. I didn't let what he said bother me. I didn't even entertain that foolishness.

It's been years since that incident and I'm still in the Air Force. I've never found myself in a situation like that again. Had I had a SARC to help me I would have used the opportunity to place a restricted report so I could just talk to someone. Maybe if I did I would have done something more, stopped it sooner. However, what happened made me the woman I am today; not a victim, not a survivor, but a conqueror. I conquered my fear, I handled it on my own and I got the results I wanted.

I'm sharing my story because I'm at the point where I can do that. I'm fine with it; I'm no longer embarrassed by it. I may have felt responsible at the time because I allowed it to happen more than once, but no matter what I did, no matter what anyone does, nobody deserves to be assaulted. I don't care what you do, or what you wear. If it not consensual, it not right.