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He was a guy I liked.
He gave me butterflies and I was attracted to him. His gaze seemed to go through me and I thought he could see every thought in my mind.
We went on a couple dates and talked all day. We worked together and flirted throughout our work hours. Everything felt like it was leading up to something, but I was enjoying the buildup.
I was eighteen, but he was in his twenties and much more experienced than I was. We kissed until I felt like I was on fire, but I didn’t allow it to move much past that until I felt comfortable.
One night, he called me and asked if he could stop by. I lived with my cousins and none of them happened to be there. I allowed him to come over. He had been to the house before so I didn’t really think anything about it.
We talked, but it eventually led to kissing. At first, it was enjoyable but suddenly it became aggressive. I felt it was moving too fast for me and worried that I was sending the wrong signals. I told him that he should leave before my cousins came home. He was visibly disappointed. I worried that maybe he didn’t like me anymore, but I also knew I wasn’t ready for what he wanted. I was confident that he would be patient because that was my experience with other men.
We walked to the door and he asked me for one more kiss. I felt guilty so I allowed him to kiss me.
Suddenly, he became very rough. The kisses covered my mouth and his tongue was pushing into my throat.
His hands gripped me in a way he hadn’t before. He was pulling at my clothes. I kept trying to stop him, pulling his hands away and pushing against his chest.
I couldn’t speak and gasped for air.
I was wearing track pants. He grabbed them roughly and ripped them off my hips until they were around my thighs. I screamed into his mouth. I reached down and struggled to pull them back up. He was stronger than me. He had at least 120 pounds on me. He used the weight of his body to keep me pressed against the wall.
In what felt like one move, he turned me around and pushed me against the wall. He pulled my track pants back down forcefully, I heard them tear. He pulled my underwear down and I could hear him undoing the zipper of his pants. His hand was pressed against my back.
My heart was beating rapidly against my chest. I didn’t know what was about to happen. I didn’t know if I caused it. And, I was thinking about one of my cousins walking in and witnessing it. I was also trying to figure out how to escape.
I pleaded, weakly, “No. No. Stop. I don’t want this.”
He laughed. I think he thought I was joking or this was some game I was playing. He chuckled and said, “C’mon.” Being inexperienced with sex, I didn’t know at the time he was trying to penetrate me.
From somewhere deep inside me, I screamed, tears burst from my eyes and, strength came from somewhere as I pushed back against his hand knocking him off balance.
I whipped around and pulled my underwear and pants up. He saw the look of terror on my face as I stared at him with new eyes. He looked different to me now. It seemed to register that what he thought was happening was not what was happening for me.
He straightened his clothes but didn’t even tuck his shirt back in. He whispered an apology and put a soft kiss on my tear-stained cheek. I was trembling. I just stood there as he walked out the door looking disheveled, and I shut it behind him.
I ran up to my room, shaking uncontrollably. The shaking grew more and more violent until I released the tears. I was angry, frustrated and so many emotions were coming fast and furiously that I couldn’t handle it until I felt my body go completely numb.
I looked down at my pants which were torn. I took them off and pushed them deep into my hamper. My mind was replaying the scenario over and over trying to figure out what I could have done to prevent it.
I should have never let him over here.
Why did I kiss him at the door?
I led him on.
My heart was thumping. And, I was trying to figure out how we progressed to that point and if it was my fault.
I didn’t know that I had been assaulted. But, I knew I was scared. My cousins came home and I didn’t say anything. I just wanted life to go back to before it happened and everything to feel normal. I couldn’t put meaning to it. I didn’t know what switch had flipped.
It is hard to explain to someone what it is like in a moment when someone crosses your boundaries and it feels like anything could happen and you have no ability to stop it, especially when you were the one who trusted them. I felt culpable. It was my fault for not knowing things could go that far with this person.
No one knows how to be a good victim because before that moment you had no idea such things were possible. I downplayed it to a bad dating experience, but I can still remember every detail over 20 years later.
Even worse than being a victim, I didn’t know what next the steps were. I didn’t know how to handle my trauma. I didn’t save future women that he could possibly do the same thing to because I didn’t report it. I didn’t teach him a lesson. There was no handbook to tell me what were my responsibilities for his transgression against me.
I’m sorry I wasn’t a good victim.
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Photo credit: Pixabay