I could spend the rest of my life trying to articulate my feelings on Ben Roethlisberger and still completely fail capture the storm of anger, resentment, forgiveness, understanding, sympathy, rage, guilt, indifference, disgust, remorse, disappointment, dread, frustration, relief and shame I’ve felt over the past month.
I have drank too much and had regrettable sexual encounters. I have been coerced into sex I did not want to have. I have just gone along with it.
I have had friends rescue me from what could have ended very badly; at college parties, nightclubs and once when a man tried to pull me off the street on the way to our boat house by the bridge at 207th Street.
I do not like the terms “gray rape” or “date rape” but I am also uncomfortable when the word “rape” is used broadly.
I have blamed Ben, the girl, the bar, the shots, his friends, her friends, the cops, the district attorney, the media and the entire world.
I still don’t know what happened and probably never will. I have tried very hard to keep my own emotions and past get the better of me, but I cannot say I have been successful in doing so.
Part of me is relieved Roethlisberger wasn’t charged so I don’t have to believe he’s a monster. Part of me wishes he would have been charged so I wouldn’t have this doubt in my mind.
I am a Steelers fan.
And I want nothing more than for this to have never have happened.
Originally posted on Black & Gold Tchotchkes.