Anonymous Story: Run of the Mill Sexual Assault..Oh, and a Rape

Anonymous Story: Run of the Mill Sexual Assault..Oh, and a Rape

If you had asked me a year ago if I had been sexually assaulted or raped, I probably would’ve said no. Mine isn’t a case of extreme guilt or shame. It’s one of simply not having the language to think or talk about what had happened to me. I’m not even sure why I’m sharing this. I’m not particularly upset about it, and don’t dwell much on it. But I feel like it makes sense to just put it out there, to talk about one more example of how differently women experience the world than men, and how we’re expected to accept it as the “way things are”. I don’t know of any men getting the talk from their parents that they have to watch what they wear, what they do, what they say, where they go, what they drink, how much they drink, how they watch their drinks, etc. And we don’t even realize when we’ve been assaulted because we’ve basically been told that we should EXPECT this treatment.

Age 16 (1986) — went on a few dates with a guy from my orchestra class. He was from a fairly wealthy family, and he was destined for greatness (at least, that’s how we saw it in high school). He was really sweet and kind to me in private, but ignored me in public. One of his closest friends was extremely warm to me, so I asked him directly what was happening. He told me it was because I was from the “wrong side of the tracks”, but that HE wouldn’t care about that because I was just a great person. A couple weeks later, we end up at the same party. Can’t remember the details — whose party, how i got there, who I was with, why I was even at a party (it was my first venture into the “popular” scene) — but we were in a basement and one of the kids had the cardboard box from a 12-pack on his head. Some of us decided to go to McDonald’s. The warm, caring “friend” was drunk (I had not been drinking) and loud. When everyone got out of the car to go inside, he pulled me back into the car, suddenly aggressive. He put his hands down my shirt, up my skirt… all while I kept saying no. The only thing i can remember is his head hitting the ceiling of the car (did I hit him?) and then I went inside. I went to two girls, who stood there stunned as the guy came into the restaurant screaming, calling me a bitch and cock tease. No one came to my defense, and after that, I never got invited to another party again. I wondered if I had committed some kind of unwritten party foul, or if I had been a “baby” for not going along. I can’t remember if I told anyone about this.

Age 18 — a third or fourth date with a guy. Went back to the guy’s house where he lived with his mom. She was working. We kissed a little bit. He got up and closed all the shades. He came back and we kissed some more, started making out. Next thing I know he’s putting his hands in my clothes and I’m kinda trying to block him. I tell him to stop and he says he “can’t”, and keeps pulling on my clothes, grinding himself against my body. I pushed him away, ran out the door and jumped in the car. He ran after me and jumped on the hood of the car, banging on the windshield and screaming the entire time. The next day, he demanded that I return a gift he had given me, saying I was a terrible person. Again I can’t remember if I told anyone about this.

Age 25 — with a guy I actually liked. We had been hanging out casually for several weeks. He repeatedly told me that I shouldn’t get involved with him because he was “bad news”. I knew he was doing drugs (crack), and was hoping he would crawl out of that mess. I tried several times to connect with him sexually, but he always refused, or was always “busy”. One particularly lucent night he showed up at my place and we were talking and laughing and getting close. We had our clothes half removed. He very suddenly threw my body onto the bed, and smashed my face down against the bed. I told him to stop . He didn’t. I was utterly perplexed — what in the hell was he doing? I liked him! I actually wanted to have sex with him, but not like this. He pulled my hair and grabbed my neck, and with me telling him to stop it, he raped me. Afterwards I was just…. confused. What. The. FUCK? WHY? He said he didn’t know. He left. I would’ve happily had sex with him, why did it have to go that way? I definitely did not tell anyone about this.

Author

WYR

WYR

When You're Ready.org is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories.

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