Never thought it would be me


Anonymous


He was the first boy who ever showed interest in me and I didn’t understand why what he did to me was wrong. I was uneducated about the topic and had no one I could go to for help.

The first time we were together we were just kissing. It started out so innocent just like I wanted. Then he would put my hand on his penis. I pulled away immediately because I was 13 and too scared to become sexually active that early. The minute I pulled my hand away he grabbed it and used all his strength to force me to keep it there and do as he pleased. I thought I was being a good girlfriend and keeping him happy by not backing away again. I continued to do what he said even though he knew he was making me feel extremely uncomfortable.

The second time we were together he did the same thing. This time it was much worse. He would touch me even if I asked him to stop. He pulled down my pants and used me as he pleased. Even when I tried to stop him he would just keep going and keep forcing. He was so much stronger than me. I didn’t want him to leave me. He told me I was beautiful and that he cared only for me. He told me that he wanted to be with me and that this is just what couples do. I didn’t know any better. I just craved the attention. The last time I saw him he made me scared and I didn’t know why. Every time he would touch me I would flinch and try to get away. I knew I had to leave him and that what he was doing was wrong, but I didn’t know why.

Because it wasn’t rape, right? That’s not how the movies show it. Rape isn’t someone who tells you they love you, it’s someone being aggressive and violent and trying to hurt you. It couldn’t be rape, right? He told me I was beautiful and that he cared about me. A boyfriend can’t rape you, can he? I was just trying to make him happy.

Wrong. All wrong. The way we are taught about rape and sexual assault is all wrong. Young girls aren’t given the knowledge they need to protect themselves.

He got to live on afterward like nothing happened. With no consequences. He could go to school the next day and high five his friends because he “got some action” the night before. He could move on with his life.

And me? I had to live in shame. I felt dirty and gross. I felt like I couldn’t tell my friends because I would be called a slut for doing those things at such a young age. I had to live knowing I was violated and the right to my own body was taken away from me. I convinced myself that this boy did not even rape me.

The years following these events were filled with self hatred, depression, ruined relationships, self harm, and other destructive behaviors.

I never had the courage to tell anyone what happened to me. I let it eat me alive for two years until I was drunk out of my mind and balled my eyes out to my best friend, telling her what had happened. I still didn’t believe I was raped until that day. I still don’t like to admit it to myself now.

This continues to affect my life every single day. The first time I voluntarily became intimate with another boy it almost ruined that relationship too. I would freeze up and freak out whenever we would get anywhere near doing something. It took a lot for him to understand and for me to open up. I was way too young to deal with this on my own, and it will always be something that will put strains on the relationships I have with others.

To this day only two people know what has happened to me.

If you’re reading this I want you to know that you’re not alone and you should not feel shame for what has happened to you. You are a survivor and you are strong. There is always someone who will be there to help you.

I never thought that I’d just be part of some statistic. Part of something terrible that so many women have to go through. I never thought this would have happened to me.