Anonymous Story: I still don’t know if it was rape

I really don’t know and I’m so confused about everything.
I’m sorry this is sort of really long. Also, I’m sorry if I made any mistakes in writing this, I’m not a native English speaker.
So, this is the story… I dated this guy for a little over 3 years, ages 16 to 19. I’ll just call him M for the rest of the story. We met when we were both in high school, he was a couple of years older than me. We lost our virginities to each other, that was about 8 months into the relationship. At the beginning it was okay, after I got over the regret of doing it that first time. I think that that things started going wrong after a semester that was really hard mental-health-wise for me (I was diagnosed with persistent depressive disorder) and then I went to study abroad for a semester (and that made everything so much worse). When I came back, I felt like he wasn’t really emotionally in the relationship anymore, he didn’t talk to me about the way he was feeling, would basically ignore any attempts I made at talking about how I felt, and we didn’t talk about problems in the relationship. All the while we were still having sex; I wasn’t that much into it, but it didn’t feel like anything wrong was happening. Then one of my closest friends, who I’ve known since she was a baby, told us about a sexual assault that she’d been experiencing from an adult, almost father figure that had coached us in gymnastics for most of our lives. After this the idea of having sex was repugnant, so I told M that I didn’t want to have sex for a while. He seemed so understanding, said he’d never make me do something I was uncomfortable with. But after a couple of weeks, whenever we were alone, he’d start kissing me, touching me, trying to get me to touch him, and other things like that. It always made me uncomfortable and for a while I didn’t let it get any father than that. Then he began telling me that he felt like I wasn’t attracted to him anymore, because I didn’t feel like kissing him in the way that was like foreplay, because I didn’t touch him down there anymore, and because I never wanted to have sex anymore. He was so insistent. He made me feel horribly guilty for not wanting sex. In the end, I stopped stopping him when he made sexual advances on me. That’s also when sex started hurting and other things started happening. He shared how he thought that it was stupid to think a boyfriend needed to ask for permission to touch his girlfriends boobs or vagina, that it was complete bullshit if a girl changed her mind about sext when it was about to start or when it had already started, and that if a girl had agreed to something before (anal sex) it didn’t make sense that she then decided she didn’t want to do it anymore. He was the first boyfriend I’d ever had. I felt young, naïve, and stupid for not agreeing with him in these things. I thought I was wrong. So, I didn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted with my body. At this point it didn’t even feel like sex anymore, it felt like he was just using my body to masturbate. He would touch me inappropriately at school (that school was a high school and a university), when we were in the library for example. There were even times when he would have sex with me in the couch in my house while the rest of my family was in the kitchen eating. I hated that, it always made me feel so dirty and unclean and it made me hate myself so much. I still hate that I did that, that I never stopped him. Sex hurt so much every time that I would just lay there trying not to scream out of pain. There were times when I cried and quietly sobbed during sex because of the pain. He only noticed once, and he stopped. And instead of staying and talking or anything like that, he got an uber left me to go home. All that was said afterwards was that he was sorry he left like that, but he didn’t know how to handle the situation; and that I should have told him I was hurting so he would stop.
This continued until I went to university (a different one). We started seeing each other less and less. I felt guilty for not being there enough, because he was stressed and depressed and sex helped him feel better. We started drifting apart and I started falling in love with another guy. So, we broke up. After I while I started dating the other guy, and I was so happy. I didn’t know I was able to be happy like that, because of my depression. I felt guilty for being happy, I felt like I didn’t deserve it because of how I made M suffer by ending the relationship. I didn’t know there had been anything wrong with the relationship. I though M and I had just drifted apart because I now went to a different school. It wasn’t until I started having sex with the new guy (my current boyfriend), that I thought more about it. Sex didn’t hurt with him (I used to thing there was something anatomically wrong with me that made sex hurt), it didn’t make me feel small and unprotected and scared. I was never touched without giving consent first. We don’t even get to the point where I have to stop him if I’m not feeling right, because he makes sure we both want to do this every step of the way. So now I think there was something wrong before, something about sex with M wasn’t the way sex is supposed to be. But I don’t know if it was rape. I don’t even know if it was sexual assault. I never stopped M and I didn’t say no. Would he have stopped if I asked him to? Probably. Like I said at the beginning, I’m just so confused and I feel so lost.