Delving deeper into the past….When you meet a wolf in sheep’s clothing, how do you know?
Recently I have been given the opportunity to help someone who is going to be giving a talk to forensics students. She will be giving them information on how forensics is so very important in real life. I offered to share my story with her. In doing so, I made an offer to delve deeper into the way that a 15 year old girl went from virgin and trusting to dating and being molested against her will to ultimately giving this boy her virginity and then finally being raped by this boy who she thought loved her. This is going to be a very emotional post. I apologize ahead of time if any of this doesn’t make sense. I am going to do the very best I can to keep it together and give it a good flow.
When I was 15 we moved to Terre Haute, Indiana from Cincinnati, Ohio. I was going into my sophomore year at a new school and was worried about not knowing anyone and being the “odd girl out”. I had never really had a lot of friends. I was kind of the girl that everyone picked on for a long time. When school started I was pleasantly surprised to find myself in the center of a group of friends that had known each other for a very long time. They accepted me in and made me one of them. Things seemed to be going wonderfully. That fall I was dating this guy…this really sweet, nice, good looking and semi rich guy. He was so great but I did not have a “spark” with him. While I was going out with him, another guy asked me out. This guy smoked, listened to rock, was a real bad ass. I, of course, dumped the nice guy for the bad boy.
The bad boy was risky. He was dangerous. He was from a poorer family. My family was reasonably well to do. We dated for a while. I remember going to the bowling alley where my parents were on a league. I remember him sitting behind me as I did my homework. I remember him putting his hands up my shirt and me pushing him off and him doing it again. I remember asking him repeatedly to stop. I remember him trying to put his hands down my pants. I remember the guy at the library who saw and instead of helping me, he just leered lewdly and I couldn’t make the boyfriend stop it. I remember him telling me how he just loved me so much that he couldn’t keep his hands off of me. When you are 15 and some guy tells you how much he loves you, you do not think to question it. You do not think that there is possibly another reason for him to say it. I was learning how to be a woman but I didn’t even really know what that meant. We went out for a while. I can’t even remember how long it was. I do remember that my brother asked us to come in his room and I couldn’t get him to leave me alone. My brother left the room and when he came back in my boyfriend had his hands down my pants. I was trying to get him to stop but he wouldn’t. My brother still gives me hell about this even 18 years later. He makes me out to be some kind of wanton whore. He was too little. He didn’t know what was going on and I couldn’t make my boyfriend stop. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have anyone to tell me that this was wrong. I didn’t have anyone that I could talk to without judgment.
At Christmas that year he asked me to marry him. I thought for sure that I knew that this was the man that I was going to be spending the rest of my life with. In January that year my parents were going to a concert and I agreed to let him come over. We had decided that that was going to be THE night. It was over before it started. I barely felt anything at all and he did not bother trying to make me feel good. A few weeks later we did it again and it was just as bad. I thought that I would not ever like sex because it really wasn’t as great as people made it out to be. Then that fateful night happened.
February 16th. His 16th birthday. We went out to dinner with his parents and a few of our friends. My mom had made a cake for him for his birthday. We got back to my house and he and I went upstairs to watch TV in my room. We were watching TV and he asked me if we could have sex. I said no. My family was home and I couldn’t take that chance. I told him that I really did not want to. I told him that if we close the door mom and dad will get mad. I do not remember how it happened but somehow he ended up on top of me on the floor on the opposite side of my bed from the door. My mom walked in and thought that we were just having sex. I didn’t know how to tell her that it was not what it seemed like. I did not know how to tell her that I did not want to have sex but he made me do it. Then she called me a whore, a slut, a bitch….pretty much everything but a white girl. Making me feel like I was worthless. Making me know that I was nothing.
After this happened I went to school the next day and I told our friends what had happened. The bad thing is that they were OUR friends. Exactly 2 of them believed me. Out of a large group only 2 believed me. This made me feel even worse. I was to the point where I was seriously considering the fact that the world would be a much better place without me. I never reported what happened. I did not believe that anyone would believe me. I didn’t know if I even believed me.
There was a friend who did help me out and did make me feel better and showed me that I was worthy and I was worth more than what I believed. This friend, who ended up being my boyfriend for almost 2 years , saved my life. He was there for me when I lost the baby that resulted from the rape. He taught me how to accept physical love again. We did not end up being together for life but I do have him to thank for saving my life and I am grateful.
I will write more later. I am too emotional to continue writing right now. Love and light to you all.
Posted on August 23, 2011, in Counseling, Rape, sexual assault, Therapy, Uncategorized and tagged aquaintance rape, Bad Boy, Blog, Blogging, Blogs, Crime, Date Rape, Dating, flashbacks, Grief Loss and Bereavement, Mental health, Partner Rape, Rape Victims, Relationships, Sexual assault, Sexual intercourse, Survivor, Thought, Victim, Violence and Abuse. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.