I blacked out. I remember the before and the after and only pieces of the middle. I had joked about how hot he was and we had reconnected with him visiting. But he said he was just going to cuddle, at least that’s what he said in his texts. I don’t remember what I said or if I acted like I wanted it. That’s the worst part, I don’t remember. How could I be so stupid and foolish. I wish I could fucking remember. Then I lied and told my friends it was a one night stand, I was scared, I am scared…
He abused me for over an hour, he watched me shake in fear, I said nothing until I was in so much pain I said stop. And he just kept watching, and forced kiss here and there. He shoved his fingers into me over and over and over until I was so convinced that he had torn the inside of my body. Over an hour later he stopped the shoving, he didn’t go further, he just laughed at me, smiled, I could barely walk. I felt so disgusting, and I still don’t understand why he raped me in that way.
Even all these years later, I still think about calling a hotline and I still freeze up when I imagine trying to talk about it. I wouldn’t even know where to start or how to explain it.
It was my boyfriend. I was a virgin and I told him I didn’t want sex until I was married. I told him no but he didn’t stop. I became so afraid that he would break up with me that I just shut down and blocked him out and everything he did to me. My biggest mistake was staying with him for months after that and allowing him to continue to have sex with me even though I didn’t want it. Several times I said no and told him it was wrong and he still never stopped. I hate him for what he’s done to me.
I thought a first kiss should be special… but because of my past, I couldn’t feel anything.
Ever since July 2013 nothing has been the same. “you’re so hot. I fucking want you” “come on don’t get like that, you know you want to. You’ll enjoy it.” Those were the words he told me while he raped me. I struggled, pushed him away but he was stronger than me. When he finished I started crying and he came near me and said “you okay? I know you loved it.” while he stroked my face and then he kissed my forehead. I’d never felt so used. It’s horrifying to have those scene in my head. I feel sick.
My rapist is gone, my father died and he never said “I’m sorry” or even tell me why he did that to me for 6 years and the worst of all this, I’m still waiting for that “sorry” that never comes.
14, 18, and 20. These numbers stick out most in my mind because these are the three times I can actually remember what happened, and they took something from me. These numbers don’t include the in between because all I did between was drink my pain away and seek out the only attention I ever though I deserved. I let them use my body, but I was never sober enough to say yes. There are 22 men in this world who never cared if it was what I wanted. I’m so ashamed.
I feel so alone and ashamed, I will never get it over, the only reason why I am not dead is why I believe that we’ll meet all the people we love when we die and I don’t want to see my father in other life, because I know that I’m going to hell, it’s really stupid I know, but I’m afraid.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to begin recovery. I don’t know if I even CAN recover from this.
The reason rape is so hard to recover from is because the “Why?” will never be answered. There is no reason, no nature, no logic behind rape. That’s why we can’t wrap our heads around it, because there’s no fucking sense to it. It makes no sense.
I can’t connect in any relationships because of what happened. I’m stuck, tainted, sick because of you. You wanted to add me on Facebook? Well how about you go fuck yourself? I’m scared I’m going to see you one day. YOU MADE ME SICK AND TAINTED AND GROSS. Whenever I see a girl that looks like you, I die. you ruined me, and I can’t get over that. Do you even know it was so wrong. I didn’t want to. I knew it was wrong… it’s my fault. Don’t ever touch me again you sick bastard.
I was held at knife-point and my case was denied prosecution.
I’ve written my goodbye letters, over and over. I just can never find the words to express how sorry I am for not being strong enough. For not being the person you hoped I’d become. For giving up. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I just can’t hold on anymore. You’ll thank me for this one day. I was never as brave as you. I love you. I always will. No matter what though, you have to keep fighting.. you are a warrior. I am proud of everything you’ve overcome. I’m sorry for being a hypocrite.
Since my rape, I’ve had sex with 4 other guys (1 at a party and I only know his first name), hooked up with even more, started smoking pot (not that that’s bad), getting drunk a lot, and becoming a mess. It helps me feel okay. Sex has become nothing more than good physical feeling now.