I was raped by my (then) fiance. I was a virgin, and he said he was. (Who knows for sure...) We were at a small baptist college, and I thought this guy was everything I wanted in life. He was attractive and was going to be a music minister in the church.
Even by our 2nd year of dating, the relationship had degenerated to, at best, a codependent one. He was diagnosed as manic-depressive, but didn't keep up with his meds. I did everything I could to make him believe he was loved... by God and by me. I did a lot of physical things to "prove" that love or to make him feel attractive. I hated every minute of it, and it literally ate me up inside... stomach ulcers, migraines, and even endometriosis.
I was so caught up in my "role" as a "good Christian (Baptist) woman" who was supposed to serve her man that it didn't matter what I felt or needed. When I finally had the strength to say "no" to something (intercourse), he did it anyway.
The sad thing is, I didn't leave him... even then. I kept thinking, "God gave me this person, I should trust God to work it out." He raped me again a month later. I still didn't leave him, but I did start developing good friendships outside of my relationship with him. He didn't like this and finally HE broke up with ME on valentine's day.
Being a rape survivor's a funny thing because it can take years to even realize you need to work through it. And that's okay. Time does NOT heal all wounds. If you're going through the process, be patient with yourself, and know simply that you are loved and supported by the Universe.
Growing up, I always had an image of sexual abuse, but I never connected it with myself. Even through the rape counseling and recovery, I learned to recognize behaviors typical of abuse survivors, but I could never even imagine being in that position.
Recently, I've been able to put that image into context, but I've remembered who it was. This is the beginning of healing.
Thank you for letting me share. Please share your story, too. It's empowering to hear all of our voices of SURVIVAL.
I don't remember the first time I was abused and for me that has layed heavy on my heart and I never forgot these nightmarish visions. Many of the self help books talk about finding your inner child before the abuse and with no memory I have always felt like I have a void.
My earliest memory was of abuse. The first memory was around when I was 3 or 4. We were staying at my Aunt's house and I was sleeping on the edge of the bed with my parents. I was woken up my by cousin who took me down their hallway where he pulled my pants down and held me against the wall while he raped me. As the pain started, I just left. Even today when I talk about this I feel pain and my body gets achy and ichy. I remember looking at the tip of his penis so I probably also gave him a blowjob but I don't remember anything else. I do not think that was the first time but it is my earliest memory. Since we spent so much time there, I cannot even begin to speculate how many times he raped me. I know somewhere inside me is the answer. He wasn't my only abuser. We used to visit them almost every weekend and sometimes during the week. I do not have any memories good or bad until my next abuse memory. The next memory I have I was 6 years old and I stayed home to have him baby-sit me. My mother asked me if I wanted to go I said no and she looked at him and looked at me and I said again I did not want to go. I had said it like he told me to. When my mom left he tried to kiss me and rape me but this time I felt dirty and was like a dead log. I went totally limp. Then he whispered that I was such a good girl last week and I just needed to be good again. The incident he refers to is not one I remember. At that point, I did what he wanted me to I kissed him back and responded as much as I couldand he stuck his tongue and i could barely breath that is when he raped me again and again. As the pain started, I left again. I was floating above and watched as he raped me and watched as I responded. I was disgusted with myself. I hated myself for not only responding but also for letting him hurt me. THe next thing I remember is another day or week later..I do not know but I was at my aunt's house and I remember a memory of walking down the hallway of my Aunt's place and thinking that I was pregnant. I think I was no older then 7 years old. I look back and still am shocked at the thoughts that were going through my mind. I do not remember if he had just finished raping me or not. After that it is a blank. I do not remember any more of my childhood except some bits and pieces but I don't remember school or even much friends until I was in 3rd grade. At one point, his brother started in on me. I think he started when the other one stopped. I think my first abuser went to the military. His brother like to make me beg for "it".
He would penetrate me with his fingers and objects. He would lay me over his lap and penetrate me. He wanted me to resist so he could make it hurt and sometimes he just wanted me to say that I will be a good girl. He also would put a blanket over us when the family was watching TV and he would abuse me there. I became good at not letting my feelings show on my face and I used to "leave" alot. He had big hands to a small kid like me. When I turned 10 years old, we moved and were 1 hour away as opposed to 5 minutes. The abuse was still going on but now it was not a weekly or daily event. I have been told that there was a time that he lived with us. I do not remember it except one time when he was over and knowing feeling like he lived there and locking my door at night. I don't remember when the abuse stopped. I think I was 12 or 13. It was around the time that my last perp (a stranger) abused me. I was at the beach with my dad and brother. I loved the beach. I was in the water by myself when a man asked me if I knew how to swim. I said yes but he said he would show me. He wrapped my legs around him and fondled me under the pretense of learning to swim. I managed to get away but that ruined enjoying the beach from there on. That was the day that the rest of me just collapse. I felt like a loser and knew that there was words tattooed on my head saying I was easy and a whore.
I was successful in school which was my safe haven. I managed to go away to college because I could not stay home. In college, it was hard because people spoke about their sexual experiences openly and chats with friends about "their first time". I always felt like shit and ashamed and I would pretend that I was a virgin. It hurt to think that I don't remember ever being a virgin. It was taken before I remember.
I remember my mom telling me that my second prep became a "daddy". He had a little girl. I felt so bad. I prayed that he would not hurt her and i was angry at myself for being a coward. I felt like her innocence and her loss of innocence was my responsibility. I don't know what has happened to him or to the little girl he had. Last time I heard about 8 years ago was that he was studying to be a preacher. I can't get information out of my family because no one wants to talk about it.
About 5 years ago, I was around 25 I finally had the guts to send my mother a letter letting her know what I had gone through at the hands of my cousins. He reply to me was that I needed to just let it go. She said shethought something was going on but that it was my "business". She said she would not tell my dad because it would hurt him now and I "how would it look". The cousins are still allowed at my mother's house. Needless to say I do not have much contact with my mother and dad. I told my brother around the same time and he said he was always jealous of the relationship with my cousins. He hated me for the special attention.
I have spent 2 years in therapy and I know that I am at the point where I can deal with it but I know my journey is not complete. One step at a time.
When I was about 8 or 9, my family agreed to watch over a foster child. I thought he was so neat because he was older than me. After a few months, we decided to go on a vacation at some cabins a few hours away. I don't remember where my parents went. He told me that we were going to play a game. He said that I had to lick him and put him in my mouth. I don't remember much of it. I know that I did it and that he did it to me also. I never told anyone for years. I don't even remember if it happened more than once. All I remember is the fact that I had no control in the matter.
It has been many years since then and only now am I starting to realize the damage he has done. I feel like I always have to be in control at all times and when I'm not, I have panic attacks. I've learned to control them a bit but they still happen. I went to a speech on sexual assault. THey said they wanted us to close our eyes so that we could really feel what the character was feeling. Just knowing that I had no control made me freak out. I had to leave the room. Since then, I have had to face the question of my sexuality. I don't know if I am gay or just that I am so protective of myself that I don't ever date. I don't know how to deal with what I am going through because I am so scared about my future. I don't know if I will ever let anyone outside of my family be really close to me. I just know that it will take a lot of time.