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  1. Sometimes I feel like I made the whole thing up. I think this is partly because I don't want to believe this happened to me and partly because no one believed me, or if they did they didn't seem to care. It wasn't a "violent" rape, it's as di*k head Robin Thick says a matter of "blurred lines." But now I know the lines were clear. I said no to multiple advances, to the point where my friends were telling him to leave me alone. All night he wanted me to drink more, and when I thought he was leaving me alone, he was really waiting for me to be drunk enough to not realize where I was. After writing my story in detail, I realized how real my experience is. It saddens me that so many beautiful girls, women, and men will be victims of rape and not even let themselves believe it. Believe there is a real reason why they feel violated, lost, empty, depressed. I wish I could tell them I believe them. Because despite what the media says, nearly all reported cases of sexual assault are real. So can we please begin supporting victims. Can we please tell them their feelings, their memories, and their lives are legitimate.
  2. MyselfAndI


    After my first blog post where I sequentially and in detail wrote down what had happened to me, I had what I can recall as my first true flashback. I had never spoke the specific to the events to anyone before. For years I suffered with replaying my assault in my head, over and over. I always thought that these were "flashbacks," but I was wrong. That night after my first post, as I was lying in bed trying to sleep, I was there. With the lights off, I could see his pale skin reflecting the moon and feel him behind me, like I was waiting for him to touch me. I could even feel his breath on my neck. I was no longer in my room but the room where it happened. In the dark everything was rearranged to the set up of that night. But the worst part was that it didn't feel like I was remembering it, but that I was about to relive it, that it was about to happen again. I didn't even want to write this because of negative response my mind seemed to have by laying everything out, but today I am feeling dislocated again, and I am scared what is going to happen when I lay down tonight with the lights off. It has been years since my experience and I don't want it to feel fresh again. I guess I just don't know what to do when this happens. I asked my boyfriend to come over the last time so that I would have something/someone to make me remember where I am and that I am safe. I love him and he is the only man I am able to trust, but I went through a period where he was supporting me so much that I could feel it hurting him. I'm not afraid of him leaving me for this, but I want to know how I can feel strong and present on my own.
  3. MyselfAndI

    It's complicated..

    **Detailed Story** 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.
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