Inspired by Kristy's very courageous blog entry I'll tell a story that I almost NEVER tell only because I want to eventually make a point. When I was 14 I was still a straight A student who rarely got in trouble while my peers were all messing with inhalants (locker room), smoking, drinking and breaking their septums to spit blood (Kiss was still very big). I desperately wanted to feel liked instead of invisible. One weekend evening I was spending the night at my best friend's house. She was the youngest of seven and her older siblings and parents were all out drinking at clubs. We sat around smoking cigarettes and improving our ability to actually inhale. At some point my friend went to bed and I was left watching tv when her 20-something older brother came home, very intoxicated. He almost immediately leaned over and kissed me. I felt honored to be getting attention from him. He very quickly started moving my clothing out of the way and climbing on top of me. I was terrified. Pushing, hitting and scratching had no effect on his determination. What followed was painful, unpleasant and very confusing. When I grew exhausted from fighting him, I decided to just go limp, close my eyes and take myself someplace else. It made no difference to him. When he finished after what seemed like forever, he put his finger to his lips and made a frightening face to me that let me know I had better not discuss what happened. Immediately after I blamed myself since I allowed the kiss to happen and that must have given him permission. Over time I rationalized and mixed things up even more in my head. I decided that it was what was expected and fighting it only hurt. I changed as a person and a student. I dated men much older than myself, stopped caring about school and seriously disappointed my parents. It took me a lifetime to see clearly what happened that night and stop taking all of the blame on myself. The point of this long story is that when you see statistics on sexual assaults, know that MOST assaults are never reported.
*inhale*
*hugs*
… Yarg. …
The entry I’ve linked to is of a similar, but slightly different flavored occurrence — that of sexual manipulation using guilt and pressure.
I wish nobody had to deal with this BS.
Good for you for being able to share your story~~we can only hope that it makes a difference for someone, somewhere.
I’m sorry that you had to go through that.
On a slightly different verse of the same song…they didn’t always call it rape when you were married to the guy. 🙁
I am so sorry to hear about what happened to you. My former husbands daughter was drugged and raped at a young age. She also never reported it. Never even told her mother. It has affected her terribly.
Maybe in telling your story you will help someone else.
God Bless You
Carol
In afterthought of these posts and entries, I wonder why we as women don’t get more outraged and get more empowered, and powerful, how does that happen, what can we do so that our dtrs dont’ have to relive the shame and inapropriate guilt that so many women have felt for years.
That’s the million dollar question Julie. I think it starts with raising our sons differently than in the past.
xoxo
It is so easy to get caught up in the shame. Never once did I think ‘Hey, what this guy did was wrong.’ But I sure put a lot of guilt on myself. Letting go of that misplaced responsibility took a long time.
Thank you for sharing!
You are so generous and courageous to share this heartwrenching story. Unfortunately and so sadly, each female friend I have has a similiar story about a sexual assault in their youth, their b/f, their uncle, baby sitters. Sadly, I have my own as well. when my hs boyfriend and I broke up, I cried on his best friends shoulder who proceeded to get me really drunk and forced himself on me. I had been teasing him all those years apparently and asking for it he said and I was never to speak of it. It was my first time w/ someone as my bf and I were waiting til we got married. I dropped classes at UT, was terrified of every male, had told my ex and he didn’t believe me. I withdrew and had major depression and anxiety for way too long. I then started to date a cop who I thought would be my protector and would be safe, but he just beat the shit out of me. Terrible experiences like these leave a mark that lasts a life time, do the assailants have any idea, any remorse, any insight into the pain and injury they leave for years?