--- title: The (Hotel Name) ~ Our Wave Community description: There is a picture in my family house which is perched on the egg white painted walls of the detailed designed dining room created by my dedicated mother. In... url: https://community.ourwave.org/en/story/the-hotel-725.md --- {{customAnalyticsScripts}} [\[Image: Our Wave Logo\]\[Image: Our Wave Logo\]](/en/) [ Community ](/en/)[ Questions & Answers ](/en/learn)[ Find Support ](/en/resources) Share story Post a message 0 Users 0 Views 0 Reactions 0 Stories read ##### Need to take a break? Try a grounding activity For immediate help, visit {{resource}} Show resources for \[Image: Puerto Rico\]Puerto Rico [\[Image: United States\]United States](/story/the-hotel-725?country=us)[\[Image: Argentina\]Argentina](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ar)[\[Image: Australia\]Australia](/story/the-hotel-725?country=au)[\[Image: Bolivia\]Bolivia](/story/the-hotel-725?country=bo)[\[Image: Canada\]Canada](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ca)[\[Image: Chile\]Chile](/story/the-hotel-725?country=cl)[\[Image: Colombia\]Colombia](/story/the-hotel-725?country=co)[\[Image: Costa Rica\]Costa Rica](/story/the-hotel-725?country=cr)[\[Image: Cuba\]Cuba](/story/the-hotel-725?country=cu)[\[Image: Dominican Republic\]Dominican Republic](/story/the-hotel-725?country=do)[\[Image: Ecuador\]Ecuador](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ec)[\[Image: El Salvador\]El Salvador](/story/the-hotel-725?country=sv)[\[Image: Equatorial Guinea\]Equatorial Guinea](/story/the-hotel-725?country=gq)[\[Image: Guatemala\]Guatemala](/story/the-hotel-725?country=gt)[\[Image: Honduras\]Honduras](/story/the-hotel-725?country=hn)[\[Image: Ireland\]Ireland](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ie)[\[Image: Japan\]Japan](/story/the-hotel-725?country=jp)[\[Image: Mexico\]Mexico](/story/the-hotel-725?country=mx)[\[Image: Nicaragua\]Nicaragua](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ni)[\[Image: New Zealand\]New Zealand](/story/the-hotel-725?country=nz)[\[Image: Panama\]Panama](/story/the-hotel-725?country=pa)[\[Image: Paraguay\]Paraguay](/story/the-hotel-725?country=py)[\[Image: Peru\]Peru](/story/the-hotel-725?country=pe)[\[Image: Spain\]Spain](/story/the-hotel-725?country=es)[\[Image: United Kingdom\]United Kingdom](/story/the-hotel-725?country=gb)[\[Image: Uruguay\]Uruguay](/story/the-hotel-725?country=uy)[\[Image: Venezuela\]Venezuela](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ve) English [English](/en/story/the-hotel-725)[Español](/es/story/the-hotel-725)[日本語](/ja/story/the-hotel-725) [ About Us ](https://www.ourwave.org/en/who-we-are) Made with in Raleigh, NC Read our [Community Guidelines](https://www.ourwave.org/en/community-guidelines), [Privacy Policy](https://www.ourwave.org/en/privacy), and [Terms](https://www.ourwave.org/en/terms) Have feedback? Send it to us 🇦🇪 ###### Survivor story # The Hotel Name Original story There is a picture in my family house which is perched on the egg white painted walls of the detailed designed dining room created by my dedicated mother. In its silver antique frame, there sits a young girl in a velvet peach short sleeved top with dungarees the colour of a pear. Her cherub face is adorned with a slightly crooked smile, her large doe eyes opened wide enamoured by the flash of the camera that she’s been asked to sit in front of by a faceless photographer. Her soft, long, natural auburn curls rest both in front and behind her slim shoulders whilst the fringe cut by her mother lays sprawled in all directions on her forehead. I look at that picture often and feel my insides squirm and my heart clench when I think of the young girl waiting patiently for her parents to tell her that she was done and that they could go home, or to get a toy or some food. My heart hurts for that little girl and all the ways in which I’ve let her down. How she deserved so much more than what I’ve given and let happen to her. Some would argue that I, in fact, did not let it happen to her. That it is not my fault. But whenever I see the articles or the videos or hear those words being said, all I want to say back to them is…’But it was my responsibility to look after that little girl and I didn’t’. I did not save her. I offered her up like a lamb to the slaughter. I had never thought about the word ‘consent’ before. I have been very fortunate to live a privileged life where it felt like I didn’t have to worry about much. Rose tinted glasses would be the poetic term, ignorant naivety would be the best fitting. It wasn’t that I didn’t know that there were men in the world that took advantage of women. I had read newspaper reports and heard accounts from woman both my age, younger and older. But I had never had personal experience with someone who had taken advantage of me. Sure, I had had a man sidle up against me to the point of invading my personal space, had men leer at me with hungry predatory eyes and pushed away hands that thought they had a right to my body. This was the age that I lived in, that all women who came before me had lived in and, sadly, it was one that was familiar and considered ‘normal’ to us. I was what boys would call a ‘prude’. A prude in the sense that I didn’t feel comfortable saying yes to a family friend who asked me to take my bra off on a webcam chat when I was 14. A prude in the sense that I didn’t feel comfortable giving my other family friend a blowjob just because he had asked me nicely and asked me to meet him for a friendly conversation beforehand in the woods nearby. A prude in the sense that I still acted like a child even though my body had begun to grow and change so that the entitled eyes and minds of men didn’t think I had a right to be one anymore. I lived just outside the real world. On the edge, close enough to see and hear and feel what I convinced myself was empathy but far away enough to be able to retreat back to the life that my parents had given me. And I wanted to explore it. Needed to. Craved it. So, that’s what I decided to do. I gained a sense of confidence that I’ve never really felt again when I took that first flight on my own to a place that no one in my family had ever been to. In all honesty, I felt like a badass. I felt untouchable and that carried on when I got home and broke up with my second boyfriend, who cried in my car and told me that I would never find someone who loved me as much as he did. I carried it with me on another plane to City, State where I made the choice to spend 3 months in America at a Camp Name where I could combine my love of travelling and horses. Like any 20 year old who felt like she was finally on the path to the life that she wanted, I strutted around like I was something to be had, something that anyone would feel privileged to have. I just didn’t realise that all of that strutting, all of the parading would land me in a bed at a Hotel Name in a college town, in a room full of 6 other people with my underwear somewhere scattered on the floor and the faint traces of my virginity lightly staining the cheap white sheets with no recollection of the event even to this day. I didn’t realise the shame that would slam into me every day since, even though it’s been 8 years, and the fact that I still blame myself for letting it happen. I still struggle to come to the conclusion on whether the terrible awful that I’ve come to refer to as that night/morning was actually my fault because I remember on the walk home to the hotel, where we were staying separately, saying ‘yes’. But I also distinctively remember from the pieces that have come back over the years of the moment that I said ‘no’, ‘no’, ‘no’ before the memory disappears and I’m left with nothing but a cliffhanger as to what transpired after that. And yet, I don’t feel a though that’s the worst part. The worst part was in the morning when the other 6 people giggled and chuckled at the sight of me as though they knew something that I didn’t. The worst part was the mention of 2 of them having sex themselves and using a condom, the horror of realising that I didn’t even remember if he had. The worst part was when they left and it felt like it was expected of me to have sex with him so that I could remember it. The fact that I felt like I couldn't leave. The predatory look in his eyes. Feeling my voice literally being stolen away from me, as though he was Ursula and I was Ariel and my voice was caught up in a shell. The worst part was that I did and he didn’t wear a condom and I left the room feeling dirty, low life and scummy. The worst part was having to stay in that pair of underwear all day, pretending to enjoy shopping with people I worked with, sitting through dinner and not having the chance to shower until 11:30 that night, not even being able to really rid myself or my body of the experience. Of feeling stained, dirty, tainted. Even now. The truth is, there wasn’t a worst part. It was all a ‘worst part’. Random Story [ 0 Comment(s) Comment(s) ](/en/story/the-hotel-725#comments) - Report ### Discard message? You have a comment in progress, are you sure you want to discard it? Cancel Discard ##### Similar community content Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aenean commodo ligula eget dolor. Aenean massa. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Donec quam felis, ultricies nec, pellentesque eu, pretium quis, sem. Nulla consequat massa quis enim. Donec pede justo, fringilla vel, aliquet nec, vulputate Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aenean commodo ligula eget dolor. Aenean massa. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Donec quam felis, ultricies nec, pellentesque eu, pretium quis, sem. Nulla consequat massa quis enim. Donec pede justo, fringilla vel, aliquet nec, vulputate Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aenean commodo ligula eget dolor. Aenean massa. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Donec quam felis, ultricies nec, pellentesque eu, pretium quis, sem. Nulla consequat massa quis enim. Donec pede justo, fringilla vel, aliquet nec, vulputate 0 Users 0 Views 0 Reactions 0 Stories read ##### Need to take a break? Try a grounding activity For immediate help, visit {{resource}} Show resources for \[Image: Puerto Rico\]Puerto Rico [\[Image: United States\]United States](/story/the-hotel-725?country=us)[\[Image: Argentina\]Argentina](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ar)[\[Image: Australia\]Australia](/story/the-hotel-725?country=au)[\[Image: Bolivia\]Bolivia](/story/the-hotel-725?country=bo)[\[Image: Canada\]Canada](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ca)[\[Image: Chile\]Chile](/story/the-hotel-725?country=cl)[\[Image: Colombia\]Colombia](/story/the-hotel-725?country=co)[\[Image: Costa Rica\]Costa Rica](/story/the-hotel-725?country=cr)[\[Image: Cuba\]Cuba](/story/the-hotel-725?country=cu)[\[Image: Dominican Republic\]Dominican Republic](/story/the-hotel-725?country=do)[\[Image: Ecuador\]Ecuador](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ec)[\[Image: El Salvador\]El Salvador](/story/the-hotel-725?country=sv)[\[Image: Equatorial Guinea\]Equatorial Guinea](/story/the-hotel-725?country=gq)[\[Image: Guatemala\]Guatemala](/story/the-hotel-725?country=gt)[\[Image: Honduras\]Honduras](/story/the-hotel-725?country=hn)[\[Image: Ireland\]Ireland](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ie)[\[Image: Japan\]Japan](/story/the-hotel-725?country=jp)[\[Image: Mexico\]Mexico](/story/the-hotel-725?country=mx)[\[Image: Nicaragua\]Nicaragua](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ni)[\[Image: New Zealand\]New Zealand](/story/the-hotel-725?country=nz)[\[Image: Panama\]Panama](/story/the-hotel-725?country=pa)[\[Image: Paraguay\]Paraguay](/story/the-hotel-725?country=py)[\[Image: Peru\]Peru](/story/the-hotel-725?country=pe)[\[Image: Spain\]Spain](/story/the-hotel-725?country=es)[\[Image: United Kingdom\]United Kingdom](/story/the-hotel-725?country=gb)[\[Image: Uruguay\]Uruguay](/story/the-hotel-725?country=uy)[\[Image: Venezuela\]Venezuela](/story/the-hotel-725?country=ve) English [English](/en/story/the-hotel-725)[Español](/es/story/the-hotel-725)[日本語](/ja/story/the-hotel-725) For immediate help, visit {{resource}} Made with in Raleigh, NC | Read our [Community Guidelines](https://www.ourwave.org/en/community-guidelines), [Privacy Policy](https://www.ourwave.org/en/privacy), and [Terms](https://www.ourwave.org/en/terms) | [ #### Resources ](/en/resources) ### Post a Message Share a message of support with the community. Continue We will send you an email as soon as your message is posted, as well as send helpful resources and support. Post Please adhere to our [Community Guidelines](https://www.ourwave.org/en/community-guidelines) to help us keep Our Wave a safe space. All messages will be reviewed and identifying information removed before they are posted. ### Ask a Question Ask a question about survivorship or supporting survivors. Continue We will send you an email as soon as your question is answered, as well as send helpful resources and support. Submit ### How can we help? Tell us why you are reporting this content. Our moderation team will review your report shortly. Violence, hate, or exploitation Threats, hateful language, or sexual coercion Bullying or unwanted contact Harassment, intimidation, or persistent unwanted messages Scam, fraud, or impersonation Deceptive requests or claiming to be someone else False information Misleading claims or deliberate disinformation Submit ### Share Feedback Tell us what’s working (and what isn't) so we can keep improving. Submit ### Log in Enter the email you used to submit to Our Wave and we'll send you a magic link to access your profile. Send link Grounding activity Find a comfortable place to sit. Gently close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths - in through your nose (count to 3), out through your mouth (count of 3). Now open your eyes and look around you. Name the following out loud: 5 – things you can see (you can look within the room and out of the window) 4 – things you can feel (what is in front of you that you can touch?) 3 – things you can hear 2 – things you can smell 1 – thing you like about yourself. Take a deep breath to end. From where you are sitting, look around for things that have a texture or are nice or interesting to look at. Hold an object in your hand and bring your full focus to it. Look at where shadows fall on parts of it or maybe where there are shapes that form within the object. Feel how heavy or light it is in your hand and what the surface texture feels like under your fingers (This can also be done with a pet if you have one). Take a deep breath to end. Ask yourself the following questions and answer them out loud: 1\. Where am I? 2\. What day of the week is today? 3\. What is today’s date? 4\. What is the current month? 5\. What is the current year? 6\. How old am I? 7\. What season is it? Take a deep breath to end. Put your right hand palm down on your left shoulder. Put your left hand palm down on your right shoulder. Choose a sentence that will strengthen you. For example: “I am powerful.” Say the sentence out loud first and pat your right hand on your left shoulder, then your left hand on your right shoulder. Alternate the patting. Do ten pats altogether, five on each side, each time repeating your sentences aloud. Take a deep breath to end. Cross your arms in front of you and draw them towards your chest. With your right hand, hold your left upper arm. With your left hand, hold your right upper arm. Squeeze gently, and pull your arms inwards. Hold the squeeze for a little while, finding the right amount of squeeze for you in this moment. Hold the tension and release. Then squeeze for a little while again and release. Stay like that for a moment. Take a deep breath to end. Try another grounding activity I feel grounded and ready