I’ve spoken loads about one night stands, or bad dates. Hell I’ve talked about crushes and the good times, bad times, and everything in between. The one thing I’ve not talked about on this blog thus far, is rape.
This subject keeps being brought up in popular social media, the government, and general conversations between just about any one at any time. The government still somewhat takes the “she was asking for it” mentality, and when it happens to you, you too may feel that mentality. Such as, “I shouldn’t have done this or that, and he wouldn’t have thought I wanted more than I did.
I’ve got 2 distinct moments in my life, that I know now are qualified as rape, and were always my fault in the past. (That’s me accusing myself, no one else.) Then twice more by partners, lovers, relationships.
At those times I stayed with the abuser, because by then I was so broken down I didn’t think I could do any better, nor did I think what had happened was truly rape.
On to the story. part 1.
I had been friends with this guy in high school, No scratch that. I had known him in High school, he was a few years younger than I was. He dated my best friend in High school, and I figured since he was single, and she was married, that the statute of limitations was out.
I did not call my friend, because I didn’t see how she would be interested. Later when i spoke to her, she was the one to hug me and tell me everything would be ok again, and what had happened was very much rape, and that I could go to the police if I wanted.
Cue the fade in (or out, whatever)
The club was packed at 3 am. By 33am, things had slowed down considerably, and by the time We’d left the club HS and I were inseparable. He drove me to his house (neither of us should have driven either, that should have been my first clue that I shouldn’t go back to his place).
We started the movie Sin City, because I’d never seen it. I was really into the movie, when he started to kiss my neck. For awhile I was into it, really really into it. I was giving as well as Taking, but the haze of alcohol cleared slightly and I really didn’t want to do this.
I looked around his house, and saw throw pillows. I saw really nice throw pillows, and a big Sherpa throw on the back of the couch. Then over the back of one of the two recliners, I saw another blanket.
He’s still kissing me and I’m looking at the house like it was my first seconds into it. It was very nearly, when I’d walked in 30 minutes before, had I not been so drunk I’d have looked around and been a bit more aware of my surroundings.
My eyes land on a stuffed animal sitting at the dining room table. “You said you were single.” I was having to pull away from his lips, trying to separate us.
“Yea, I’m single.” he brushed off the question, and kept kissing, now moving to the button on my pants, after all he’d gotten the shirt unbuttoned.
“Then why do you have a teddy bear on the dining room table?” I asked, thoughts racing, emotions whirring.
“It’s for my niece?” His voice curled up into a question. He had no siblings that I knew of, he might have a had a step brother or sister though. I didn’t feel comfortable anymore, and I didn’t want to be there anymore. so I pushed against him, attempting to separate the two of.
He then pinned me down, grabs both hands and begins to force his way. It wasn’t just a wham! bam! Thank you, Ma’am either. He took time to torment me. He was large and it hurt, but after I realized that my fighting only made him smile bigger, and try harder. I gave in. I laid there, and willed it to be over.
The movie was in credits when he finished. I excused myself and went to the bathroom, sending a text to a friend to bring my car to me. I only hoped she would get it and be there as soon as possible, it was already close to daylight.
The BF (best friend) shows up with my car, and we went to a local restaurant to eat breakfast. I dodged her questions as deftly as I could, then dropped her off at her place. When I left, on the 10-15 minute drive from her place to mine, I stopped at the halfway mark, and I cried for what felt like hours.
Once home, I crawled into the shower and washed until I thought my skin would fall off. The water hot enough to scald me, and when I’d wasted enough water to run the water tank completely empty I toweled off and went to bed.
Sleep was a long time in coming, I sat and hashed and rehashed the night, and how It was my fault.
Obviously, I’d been asking for it. I’d worn a very low cut top, with buttons. I wore tight pants, that showed off my form. I had gotten drunk. I had went home with a guy from the bar. These were all my doing, so obviously what happened later that night was ALSO my fault.
The fact that he was all but married had not been known to me until months later, and that brought memories back, and fresh hell to spawn.
“But why didn’t you turn him in?” This is a conversation I’m frankly sick of hearing. I’ve explained my thoughts on the matter, but here’s more of the truth.
I thought it was my fault.
I thought that people would treat me differently.
I thought that someone would confirm that I asked for it.
I thought that there was no reason to turn him in. (as I live in the bible belt there is every evidence that i am right, that he’d have had the good ole boy defense)
I thought no one would believe me. I thought that no one would believe that HS would have even taken me home, much less had his way with me. Or that he’d ever rape me.
I thought I was alone. Afterwards, though I had my BF with me, I felt that I was alone. I still feel alone today, and I’ve had relationships (not good ones) I’ve had other similar situations, and I’ve had tons of friends since then.
I may never get over this one incident, much less the ones that follow. I know it wasn’t my fault, it was the male, I know that I have a right to say to no at any time, but good ole boy mentality is “You shouldn’t have started it if you didn’t want to finish it.”
And that sucks.