Like a lot of people, I try to block out memories of the time of my life I spent in high school. But reading about Amanda Todd, the teenage girl who committed suicide after being bullied over a topless picture, has brought back some painful ones. Because what happened to Amanda Todd almost happened to me.
When I was in high school, a live-streaming site called Stickam became popular. I used it to talk to friends, but also to garner attention from guys. I’d “borrow” my mother’s laptop, open up the webcam, and wait for boys to virtually hang out with me. (I didn’t drink. I didn’t do drugs. Instead, I constantly sought validation from boys.)
I eventually met a guy named David*. He was 22 and attending college about two hours away from me; I was 16 and a junior in high school. He’d compliment me in ways I hadn’t really heard before. I felt special.
Our conversations quickly became sexual. Eventually, I started getting naked for him online, but not before I started dating my best friend, Brad*, who just moved back from abroad. I really liked him — I was drawn to his intelligence — and thought that what I had going with David was just harmless fun.
David made me feel wanted in a way Brad didn’t. David and I would video chat online a few nights a week. He taught me how to masturbate, and asked me to do it in front of him. Not once did I think about our age difference. I was led to believe he cared about me in a way that was not only sexual. He knew about my school, my family and even my boyfriend.
But then David began to call me every day, insisting we meet in person, and saying he wanted to be the one who took my virginity. The fact I was dating someone else started to make him angry. I realized I knew very little about him. This new side frightened me, and I knew I had to get out.
After two weeks of this, I told David we needed to stop talking. He then told me he’d recorded everything I’d done on camera and planned on releasing it if I didn’t have sex with him. Having already been on antidepressants since I was 11 years old, I fell into an even deeper tailspin. I was terrified for any of my friends or classmates in the Bible Belt to find out. I skipped school for two weeks, faking sickness and having a constant string of panic attacks. My grades suffered, as did my relationship with my family.
I finally decided I had to tell my parents. My mom was extremely upset with me, but she quickly took action to make sure he couldn’t contact me again. I told my boyfriend. We were reading “The Scarlet Letter” in our AP Language class; he likened it to that and decided we had to end things. I drew a large letter A on my stomach every day for the next month. I was ashamed I got myself into this situation. I considered myself a smart girl, but this shattered any sense of self-worth I had.
A month later, Brad started dating a good friend of mine. He told her what had happened between us, and she went on to tell others. Sides were chosen and I lost the majority of my friends. One said he wanted to “drop me on a bed of nails and watch me die.” Without the support of my friends, I felt more alone than ever.