In 2019, I returned to Kansas City to attend the University of Missouri-Kansas City in hopes of a fresh start. Just a few months earlier, I had had a traumatic experience that would change my life forever.
Before returning home, I was on the national stage as a collegiate wrestler at Northern State University in Aberdeen, South Dakota – a Midwestern city much like the one I grew up in. I got involved early on: student government, student athlete advisory committee, and even served as an emcee for the homecoming ceremony. Considering that Friday night football and wrestling were the core of the community, I felt like I belonged. Being welcomed so completely meant the world to me, and South Dakota quickly felt like home.
Wrestling was my whole world. I loved training every day with a team of guys who gave everything they had. We traveled through the region and every match brought something new.
At the time I wasn’t dating; That wasn’t necessary. Wrestling, training, and campus life filled my cup. But I was gay to my teammates, coaches, and even the NCAA, and I was respected as a member of the team. These boys were my brothers, and that brotherhood meant everything.
Then came Halloween night.
I went to a big party with my teammates where we drank and had fun. I was on the dating apps that night. I matched with someone I didn’t know, but whom I recognized as a friend of one of my teammates, a connection that put me at ease. Later that evening he messaged me. And then he came to my room.
He was drunk. I loved it too. But I told him ‘no’. And he did what he wanted anyway. I froze. He didn’t stop. When it was over, he left. I dwelled on that moment for a week before I texted him: “What happened last night really messed me up and it still bothers me. I’m trying to get past it but what you did to me was wrong, especially when I told you no.” These texts were later used in the NCAA investigation, so I remember them vividly. He apologized. I tried to brush it off like it was nothing, but it wasn’t.
The next day during training I went through the motions. At one point my back hit the mat and all I felt was what I had felt that night. That same vulnerability. That same helplessness. Something changed in me. I had never felt like this before, like a piece of me was gone.
The next day I told my coach what happened. I sat down with him and the school’s NCAA-mandated Title IX reporter to begin the university’s internal legal process. They were supportive. After a hearing, my perpetrator admitted what happened and agreed to leave the school. My coach was with me every step of the way.
Procedurally it felt like justice, but nothing in my life felt normal anymore.
Every day I had to go back to the dormitory where it happened. I felt exposed and vulnerable. I didn’t tell any of my teammates, my friends, or my family what happened; my parents finally found out this year. The pressure was getting to me, but I didn’t want to be seen as wimpy or weak if I was honest about why I couldn’t perform. The weight of carrying this alone was unbearable.
Wrestling became impossible. Competing in such a physical sport where that kind of trauma rears its ugly head all the time. I couldn’t do it. So I left. I left the team. Then I left the sport completely. I eventually left South Dakota.
My perpetrator took a lot from me. But what he found most painful was my ability to wrestle – the chance to continue participating in the sport I loved.
Years have passed. Instead of ‘moving on’, I have had to learn to live with what happened.
Photo courtesy of Justice Horn
In the Midwest, men aren’t allowed to talk about these things. We are taught that being “weak” is unacceptable. That silence is strength. I thought things like rugby and powerlifting in the gym would project a facade that would keep people from discovering how broken I was. I now know that by remaining silent, I enforced the very same prejudices that kept me from coming forward..
During the Me Too movement, I saw brave women coming forward – and very few men. When Terry Crews told his story about attacked by a Hollywood agent who groped him at a party, people mocked him. “It’s too big for that,” they said. Or, “If it were me, I would have fought back.” Those comments sent me deeper into hiding. I didn’t want it to be me they were talking about.
Then in October I made the documentary “Ohio State Survivor”, in which former NCAA wrestlers shared their thoughts experiences of abuse by a staff physician while they were student-athletes at Ohio State University. I cried.
The stories shared in the documentary stuck with me. Those men were me – from the Midwest, in the same sport I played. Years later, they finally spoke out. That gave me the push I needed. I finally felt ready to share this story publicly.
If this could happen to me, it could happen to anyone. I’m a strong man and I was an elite wrestler. You may have heard of “fight or flight,” but these are just two survival reactions that people often experience when you experience sexual violence or other trauma. Another one common reaction is ‘freezing’, and that’s what happened to me at that moment.
Photo courtesy of Justice Horn
I don’t want to perpetuate the silence any longer. I don’t want to be part of the culture that keeps men from coming forward. I decided to tell my own story for the first time so that we can normalize talking about sexual abuse, to prevent future harm to all students and athletes. I’m done carrying the weight of this alone because I know others are carrying it too.
My sexual assault does not define who I am. Leaving the sport I loved felt like the end of everything, but I built a new life. A stronger one.
I am no longer ashamed to tell my story. I’m proud to share this – for those who are still struggling, still hiding. You’re not alone. We don’t have to be ashamed. Shame and silence give perpetrators the power to continue harming people.
I’ve struggled with this long enough. I won’t let silence win anymore.
Need help? Visit RAINN’s National Online Sexual Assault Hotline or the Website of the National Resource Center for Sexual Violence.
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