Still Standing — The Truth About Military Sexual Trauma (MST) and Why I Speak Openly About Being Raped

Trigger Warning:

In 2009, while I was serving on active duty, I was assaulted by someone in uniform. Someone I trusted. It was violent. It was dehumanizing. And when I turned to the system for help, the system turned its back on me.

There was no SHARP program then—no proper support. The Army protected the predator. And I was left to carry the aftermath by myself—discharged, ashamed, and broken.

He went on to hurt others. I went home and tried to survive.

I buried it all. The pain. The guilt. The questions. Was it my fault? Did I bring it on? Why didn't I fight harder?

I lived with that silence for years. Let me tell you—it eats at you. It creeps into your confidence, your relationships, and your self-worth. I told myself I wasn't worthy of love, that maybe pain was just my portion. And because I believed I was damaged, I kept letting people treat me like I was.

But here's the truth that changed my life: I am not what happened to me. I am who I chose to become afterward.

Why Are Survivors Always Questioned?

It's a cruel pattern: victims are asked what they were wearing, why they were alone, and why they waited to speak out. Society demands that we explain our pain while those who caused it walk away without accountability.

The blame is never ours.

We didn't ask for it. We didn't deserve it. We don't owe anyone the “perfect” story to be believed.

And Let's Be Clear: It's Not Just Women

MST affects men, too. You don't hear about them often, but they're out there—hurting, silent, ashamed. Many experience MST through hazing and humiliation. And because men are taught to “suck it up,” their stories get buried.

But MST doesn't care about your gender. Pain is pain. Silence is silence. And healing belongs to all of us.

The Quiet Pain No One Talks About

What happens afterward—the trauma that lingers—is the part people don't see. The panic attacks. The guilt. The fear of intimacy.

Sex becomes complicated. Touch feels threatening. Even love can feel unsafe.

I didn't talk about that part for a long time. But I want to say it now because someone needs to hear it: You're not wrong if sex feels scary. You're not broken because you flinch at closeness.

It takes time to relearn what safety feels like in your body. To reconnect. To trust.

And you can get there. With therapy. With faith. With people who make space for your healing without rushing you.

So, What Helped Me?

• God – my anchor.

• Therapy – my reset.

• A small, safe circle – the people who reminded me I'm more than what happened.

• Writing. Rest. Honesty. Boundaries. Time. And choosing, every day, to fight for my peace.

  
  

Some days I still struggle. Triggers are real. But I don't carry that shame anymore.

I even asked myself recently, What would I do if I saw the man who did this to me today? The truth? I'd pray for him. Not because he deserves forgiveness, but because I deserve freedom. He's broken. Miserable. I refuse to carry him with me one more step.

If You're a Survivor

• Please contact the VA. A special team in Puerto Rico handles MST claims. They're kind and understand.

• If you feel ashamed about asking for benefits or help, I get it. I was, too. But this system owes you more than silence. You deserve the care and compensation you were denied.
  

And if you don't know where to start, message me. I'll help however I can. You don't have to walk this alone.

Funny story: I was at a military event, and saw the (former) Secretary of the VA, Denis McDonough, standing ten feet away from me. I walked over to him and let him know how difficult it was to navigate the VA claims system, especially as a survivor, and he looked at me (I had tears in my eyes) and said, "I got you". The very next day, his office reached out to me, and everything else is history... but I truly believe he saved my life. He listened. He cared. He had my back.

You are not damaged. You are not weak. You are not what happened to you.

You are healing. You are sacred. You are powerful. And you're still here, so there's more for you. More peace. More love. More joy.

We rise together. One day, one breath, one choice at a time.