It feels as though one moment changed my entire identity, stripping away any of my remaining naivety and innocence. But when that mystified encapsulation of fear, anxiety, and anger finally managed to dissipate, I was left with only the framework of who I use to be. I was replicating a girl who disappeared into womanhood without the chance to say goodbye. Inside, this woman is still filled with the fear, anxiety, and anger, but now the remaining cracks are filled with regret. I find myself asking "why did I go out that night?" "why did no one care?" "why didn't I do anything.."
My story is complicated because there are no clear lines, but isn't that the thing about rape...
I went to a party at a "good" friend's house. I went over early, along with another girl, to hang out before the party started. I wish I could remember more of what happened that night, but some of my later memories are lost due to the alcohol, and the earlier ones due to the passing time. Finally, the people began pouring in. I really liked everyone at the party, but there was one guy there who I had never met but had heard of. He had a reputation of sleeping around and partying all the time. He was not the type of guy I would ever want to hook up with, but hey lucky me, because that night i guess I was his target. Throughout the night he kept hitting on me and trying to always be near me or sitting next to me. I would just politely/ nervously laugh and then proceed to ignore him as he would make crude remarks about my body. After many awkward attempts of trying to get me to go upstairs with him, my friends told him to leave me alone, they knew him much better than I did. I didn't see him for an hour or so, so I continued to talk and drink with my friends. But again, he came up to me trying to get me to go upstairs, and when I would say no he would try to get me to drink me. We went upstairs, but instead of going into the kitchen where some people were drinking, he pulled me to the side and we started kissing. When I realized what I was doing I stopped immediately. He tried to coax me to stay but I said I couldn't because I just broke up with my boyfriend, which was true but wasn't the reason I didn't want to stay. I wish I hadn't been so nice. I went downstairs, where he continued to pursue me for the rest of the night. It was to the point where I was no longer trying to be polite. I should have felt that I was being hunted that night, but I thought I was with my friends and everything was chill.
So I continued to drink, and we were eventually smoking too. I eventually found myself sitting alone on the floor up against the wall. I am not sure how long I was there before he sat down next to me and put his arm around me. I think he was talking to me, but I'm not sure I was even responding, I just needed to sit there for a minute. But then suddenly I found myself walking up the top flight of stairs towards the bedrooms. The next thing I can remember is being naked on the bed, being moved around like I was a doll. I still have a flashback of his pale skin glowing in the darkness, the only thing I remember seeing other than the pillow my face was shoved into and his penis when he was trying to get me to perform oral. The whole time this was happening, he kept telling me he wouldn't tell anyone if I didn't. For years, I took this because he was embarrassed or thought I would be, but I realize now that he knew what he was doing to me was wrong. But I didn't need to tell anyone, because my friend and his friend came looking for us. They knocked on the door, it took me a long time to finally be able to put my shirt on, but once I did I walked out of the room and straight down the stairs. He was hiding in the closet, but they knew he was there so he came out. I don't remember much after that, I just fell asleep on the sofa.
He told everyone he had sex with me that week at school. People were coming up to me and asking about it, his friends were asking me if I had a good time with him. My friends seemed to feel bad that I was upset (barely speaking off and on for nearly a year) and that I was uncomfortable at just the mention of him, but they continued becoming even closer with him, along with more of my friends as he kept becoming more popular. Nobody really cared to believe that what happened to me was rape, I was just another girl at a party he had sex with. For a while, I believed this too. When I would finally let myself admit that I was raped, I would instantly deny it with, "I wasn't that drunk," "I could have said no that last time," "if it were rape someone would care."
Now i am filled with regrets that I didn't speak up for myself, how blind I was to societies perception and constant sexualization of women, and that I wore my rape like a badge of shame for years, and still do at times to this day.