I was a resident advisor at my college. I thought it was the best thing that I had ever done in my life. I thought that I would be great at it because I was so friendly and helpful. I did my job the right way. I was there to talk to the kids and to help. Things were going great as we neared the end of the semester. I was having some trouble with my boyfriend, but besides that, life was good. We got in a bad fight one night and I called my head resident advisor to talk. He offered to come to my room, but I declined, and he was going out anyway. I went to sleep alone that night, my boyfriend out. At around 2 in the morning my phone rang. I thought it was my boyfriend, the voice sort of muffled. All's I heard was "I'll be down in a minute, are you alone?" I was like "Uh-huh." A few minutes later I heard a knock on the door. I was sort of disgruntled and half-asleep when I opened the door. It wasn't my boyfriend, it was the head resident advisor, someone I thought was my friend.
He pushed his way into my room and I tried to stop him. Seeing him and not my boyfriend jarred me to being completely alert. He pushed me up against the wall and began pawing at me. I didn't know what to do. We ended up on my bed, him pulling at my clothes and trying to take his own off in the process. He pushed me down hard and got on top of me. As I was struggling with him, I cracked my face against the wall next to my bed. I don't think he even noticed.
He attacked me. He took what he wanted from me and then he got up and left. I remember my fear, I remember thinking "What did I do to deserve this? It must be my fault- I opened the door!" I went into the bathroom after he left and saw the black and blue mark on my face and I felt something warm trickling down the inside of my leg. I looked down and saw the blood. I climbed into the shower with what was left of my clothes on and sat on the floor.
I wasn't going to tell anyone because I thought it was my fault. But I began to call my boyfriend's room and all I got was the answering machine over and over again. I was so terrified.
The next morning came and I did my best to cover the bruise on my face and I went to another friends room to get something I needed. I tried to hide my face from him but he saw it and I broke down and told him. I know that I was a victim, and I was too ashamed to tell anyone that mattered because I thought they would say I asked for it. I didn't. I lied to my boyfriend about what really happened that night. It was ten times worse than I let on. I couldn't deal with the shame and I had to be strong in the face of the enemy.
Am I sorry I never told anyone? I'm still not sure. When I see him leering at me I do. I blame myself for not being strong enough to fight back. I feel unsafe in my dorm room. He was my friend and look what happened? No one is safe.
In my dreams i hear the phone ringing. I remember the sound of bone cracking against the wall and I remember the struggle and how he shoved himself into me with the brutality of an animal.
It was my fouth birthday, id had my party the day before and was going to spend the day with my nan and grandad. He told me it was a special day and he would give me a special present but it was a secret. So the sexual abuse started. For the next two years he touched me and made me touch him, my nan often joined in, getting violent if I ever refused to do something or wet the bed (this was a common occurance as I was so scared).
It got to my sixth birthday, again he had a special present for me, he raped me whilst my nan took photos. I've never know what happpened to them. This went on for another two years until I was 8. Then he anally raped me. I didnt know that could happen until then. I could cope with everything else but not that.
It all suddenly stopped when I was 10. I managed to blank it all out of my mind, couldnt remember anything until the basard died when I was 16. Thats when the real struggle began.
I am hopefully survivng now, taking one step at a time, its been a long, long road but hopefully im getting there
I was in a sexual relationship with a teacher from my high school (he was married & in his 40s) from the time I was 14-17. I was naive and didn't know what I was doing. He completely manipulated me and stole my innocence. I still can't separate healthy love making from sex with him.
He was like the father I never had, built up trust and admiration. Then he took advantage of it. Sometimes the sex was consensual, sometimes he forced me, but he always said I was making him do it, he couldn't help it, etc.
By ages 16-17 I started to realize it was not right and tried to break it off, but he kept pulling me back with guilt and mental games. Now I'm 23 and am only beginning to realize how much it has affected me: depression, panic attacks, TMJ (teeth clenching in my sleep to the point where my tongue is raw and swollen from it), weight problems, flashbacks, avoidance of intimacy with my fiance.
I know it could be worse but I am so angry that it happened in the first place. I still have trouble believing it wasn't my fault. I mean, he was 42 and I was 14!!! I know my experience is nowhere near as bad as some others I have read, and I cringe every time someone says that what happened to them was their fault. YOU ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE! I am so angry, especially at men, and don't know how long or if I will ever be back to normal again.
Responses are welcome, I would especially like to hear from anyone who had a similar experience: email@example.com Thanks for reading.