Just warning you that today's truth will be really long too.
Today's topic gets into some murky waters for me. There are two HUGE things that I could write about. I decided to share the one thing that not many people know about, so that maybe if it happens to you, you can learn from me, and get some help for it.
I probably have dated 4 or 5 guys since I've graduated from high school. I've never had anything too serious with any of them, but I enjoyed the time I spent with each of them.
One summer while I was working with my best guy friend Sean at the baseball park, he had a friend from his old hometown come visit. The kid was cute (I say kid because he is two years younger than me, and both he and Sean had just graduated from high school). He talked to me like we have known each other for a long time, and I flirted shamelessly. I figured I would probably never see him again.
He was visiting Sean because they were going to be roommates in college, but I didn't find that out until later.
The next day, Sean texted me and asked if I was okay with him giving his friend my number. Of course I didn't mind, I was attracted to him. I didn't expect to hear from him anytime soon, so I went to my second job wondering why he wanted my number. When my 5 hour shift was over, I had a text message from a number that I didn't recognize, just asking what I was up to. After a few bantering texts back and forth, he admitted to me who he was and said he would like to see me again. It didn't work out for us to see each other before he went back to his hometown, but we kept texting and calling each other constantly throughout the next 2 months.
August came around, and I had to move into the sorority house for recruitment. He and Sean were attending a college about 45 minutes away from mine, so we made plans to hang out on the day that I had a break from recruitment. When I went to see him, he introduced me to his dad and stepmom. It was slightly awkward, but I just figured it was because they were in town helping him move in. The day came to an end too soon, and I drove back to school to prepare for recruitment.
Recruitment at OU is a little different than most schools. All members of all sororities move into their houses beginning with August 1 to prepare for the girls going through recruitment (called Work Week). All during work week, he was upset that I couldn't text him all day, especially with us being so close to each other. Actual recruitment for women begins a little less than 2 weeks before classes start, with the conclusion of recruitment happening the Wednesday before classes start on a Monday.
During this time, the guys began their first week of school. I had to help clean up the house on Thursday, and then planned on spending my much needed long weekend in his college town. I had a friend from high school that didn't live too far from the campus, and I was going to stay the night with her while visiting him during the day.
Everything was going great all week. I would hang out with at my friend's apartment during the day while he was in class, and then would go visit him once his classes were over. We hung out in Norman a couple times, and I introduced him to some of my friends here. I even met his mom and sister at one point during the week (that part freaked me out a little).
I don't know what went wrong where, but Friday night was odd. We came to Norman to attend a back-to-school party that one of my sorority sisters was hosting. I knew that I would have to drive an hour back to get him to campus, so I only had a couple drinks early in the night so I would be able to drive later. I had my last drink about 4 hours before we left, and I was completely sober when it was time for us to go. (I don't drive drunk, because I've had too many friends lose family members from drunk drivers.)
Once we made it back to his dorm (it was about 3 a.m. at this point), he convinced me to stay with him because Sean had gone home for the weekend. I wasn't completely comfortable with it, but I finally relented. I don't really remember what time it was that I woke up, but at some point, he woke me up and tried to get me to have sex with him. I didn't want to for many reasons, and he wouldn't stop asking. He ended up pushing himself onto me, and I finally just kind of let it happen. I didn't go back to sleep after that, and returned to my friend's apartment the next day to shower and change clothes. I didn't exactly tell her what happened because I was embarrassed and ashamed. I can't even hardly say the word.
After I got out of the shower, I texted him to tell him we needed to talk about the night before. He said he agreed, and that we needed to talk anyways. Basically, he ended up breaking up with me through text messaging, and told me that I was cramping his style. ("It's my first week of college and you're ALWAYS here as soon as class is over, I need to be able to live a little, etc.") He also said that because I had chosen to drink and drive, he didn't know that he could trust me.
I had never (or haven't since) felt so used. Here was a guy that I thought was decent, and so did Sean, and he did that to me and disposed of me.
I never told anyone what really happened when I went to visit him. Then one night in the Spring 2010 semester, I sat up until about 5 a.m. talking with my best friend Josalyn, and the entire story just came out. I don't know what it is that made me trust her, but once I repeated the story I felt so much better. (It was about a year and a half after it happened before I told her.) She and I talked about it, and she helped me realize that I was raped by my boyfriend. Because it was something I didn't want, something I wasn't happy about, it was technically rape. It took me a year and a half to realize that was what had happened to me. It took a year and a half for me to realize that strangers aren't the only ones who rape. And then I was upset. Then scared. Then angry. How did I let this happen to me? I shouldn't have stayed, and once he began asking I should have left.
I couldn't face Sean. My best friend. He had set me up with him, and I knew if he knew the truth he would blame himself. But as my best friend, I felt he needed to know why I couldn't stand his friend anymore. I told Sean this past summer. Naturally, he was angry, and wanted to know why I hadn't said anything to him before. The truth is, I don't like admitting that I am a rape survivor, especially to a boyfriend. It makes me feel impure.
Since then, I have been getting some help with this, through a school counselor and the help of friends. I still haven't told my family about it, but I'm sure they will know about it after reading this.
Why do I share this now? I'm hoping that someone out there has had a similar experience and will read this and know that they are not alone. You are not alone in the instance, you are not alone in what it takes to start the healing process. You can overcome it, it doesn't have to define you. Before now, I bet most people had no idea that this happened to me. But it did. And it made me a stronger person.
I have to forgive him for making a negative impact on my life. I didn't understand what was happening, didn't understand the toll it would take on my future actions. It's difficult to want to forgive him, but for my mental health, I have to. I may not forgive him anytime soon, but eventually I know I can have complete closure by actually forgiving him.
And if you know me in real life, I don't care if we talk about it, I'd just prefer not to. Like I mentioned above, I don't want it to define me. I've moved on for the most part, but sometimes it can still get to me.
This was a huge step for me to put this out there on the internet, to admit that it was something that I needed to do.
The other person I need to forgive is my father, for not being as involved in my life as he should have been.
Thank you for letting me share this with you, and if you would like to talk more personally about this, maybe need some encouragement in overcoming your situation, I'd be more than happy to help any way I can, and to point you in the direction of places that have helped me. You can always e-mail me at mbattiestOKU{at}gmail{dot}com.
Hi Luv,
ReplyDeleteI'm a new follower from FTLoB. I came here because I was intrigued by the title of your blog and I wanted to learn more about you. I have seen a few of you start the "30 Days of Truth" prompts and I have to say that you are all so brave to do so!
I am so sorry to read that this happened to you...it is heartbreaking that you have had to carry this with you for so long. I'm glad that you decided to share this with your boyfriend, because by talking about it, you are freeing yourself...and how liberating that is! I have deep respect for you and your willingness to share this aspect of your past with us; I honestly believe that writing about your experience will help someone else.
I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. Have a wonderful day.
Aloha,
Angie
I just read this, because I decided to go through your 30 days of truth series since I don't think I was a follower when you went through this. I have a VERY similar story to yours, actually. I commend you for putting it on your blog, I have thought about it but have never done it. My story happened on the 4th of July in 2004 when my boyfriend and I were out at the lake with friends and family - we had been dating 5 months, and he wanted sex. period. I wasn't interested and I was unsure. It wasn't something I had done before at that point in my life. I called my best friend and was talking to her about it and how unsure of it I was. He knew her and he wanted to talk to her - during the conversation he asked her how much I trusted him, she of course told him I trusted him. Well, with that being said he dropped it. I thought it was good, dropped, nothing to worry about. Wrong. We went off for a walk around the lake, in and out of the woods, before the fire works started. I thought nothing of it. Until the pressure set it, and it was non-stop pressure, and there I was alone in the woods with him, fireworks going off - there was nothing I could do.
ReplyDeleteSo, once it was finally over, my family and I took him home and I couldn't say a word about what just happened. I set it aside and moved on. I finally broke and told my mom what happened. This guy and I didn't go to the same school so I just told her I wanted to leave it alone. I stopped being friends with my friend Katy shortly after all of that happened. I didn't tell her what happened, but a part of me blamed her. I told my dad at one point, in front of his fiance (who was there at the lake) and she said I lied, she was there and nothing of the sort happened. So, I never mentioned it to my dad again. It was something I fought with by myself though. I transferred schools a year later and it was the same school he attended, and it was daunting. He would see me and call me a "whore", and it was awful. I ended up talking to the school officer, and told him I didn't want anything to happen about it but he needed to know what previously happened and what was happening then. The healing process took a long time - I would go to youth group and they would mention premarital sex being a sin, and my mind raced. A couple future boyfriends knew what was going on and had happened and they were good to me. It took a lot of self work for me to get through it on my own, get over it and realize it was not my fault. When I met my husband now, I told him what happened and he was very understanding. I appreciated that. I reconnected with Katy last year, and finally I told her what happened, I told her I didn't blame her - I did - but I knew it wasn't her fault. Her answer "Oh, I don't care. I don't remember it so it doesn't really matter to me." Seriously. That was her answer. We are friends, I suppose but we don't talk. I recently told my husband her answer and he said "Uh, why are we friends with her?" I can't give that a good answer, but I guess I would say that maybe she didn't know how to respond to what happened and I leave it at that.
After everything happened I learned a lot of my self, and a grew a lot from it. You aren't alone!