Rejection

This is a post I have seen circulating for a while. I don’t know who originally posted it, but I have seen and heard too many stories like this.

When I was a freshman, my sister was in eighth grade. There was a boy in two of her periods who would ask her out every single day. (Third and seventh period, if I remember correctly.) All day during third and seventh she would repeatedly tell him no. She didn’t beat around the bush, she didn’t lie and say she was taken–she just said no.

One day, in third period, after being rejected several times, he said; “I have a gun in my locker. If you don’t say yes, I am going to shoot you in seventh.”

She refused again, but right after class she went to the principal’s office and told them what happened. They searched his locker and there was a gun in his backpack.

When he was arrested, some of my sister’s friends (some female, even) told her that she was selfish for saying no so many times. That because of her, the entire school was in jeopardy. That it wouldn’t have killed her to say yes and give it a try, but because she was so mean to him, he lost his temper. Many of her male friends said it was ‘girls like her’ that made all women seem like cock-teases.

Wouldn’t have killed her to say yes? If a man is willing to shoot someone for saying no, what happens to the poor soul who says yes? What happens the first time they disagree? What happens the first time she says she doesn’t want to have sex? That she isn’t in the mood? When they break up?

Years later, when I was a senior, I was the only girl in my Criminal Justice class. The teacher, who used to be a sergeant in the police force, told us a story of something that had happened to a girl he knew when she was in high school. There was a guy who obviously had a crush on her and he made her uncomfortable. One day he finally gathered up the courage to ask her out, and she said no.

The next day, during an assembly, he pulled a gun on her in front of everyone and threatened to kill her if she didn’t date him.

He was tackled to the ground and the gun was taken from him.

When my teacher asked the class who was at fault for the crime, I was the only person who said the boy was. All the other kids in the class (who were all boys) said that the girl was, that if she had said yes he would’ve never lost it and brought a gun and tried to kill her. When my teacher said that they were wrong and that this is what is wrong with society, that whenever a white boy commits a crime it’s someone else’s fault (music, television, video games, the victim) one boy raised his hand and literally said; ‘But if someone were to punch me and I punched him back, who is at fault for the fight? He is, not me. It’s self-defence. She started it, so anything that happens to her is in reaction to her actions .It’s simple cause and effect.’

Even though he spent the rest of the class period ripping into the boys and saying that you are always responsible for your own actions, and that women are allowed to say no and do not have to date them, they left class laughing about how idiotic he was and that he clearly had no idea how much it hurt to be rejected.

This isn’t something that’s rare. This isn’t something that never happens, or that a select group of men feel as if they are so entitled to women that saying no is not only the worst possible thing a woman can do, but is considered a form of “defence” when they commit a crime upon them (whether it be rape or murder-as-a-reaction-towards-rejection).

Girls are being killed for saying no to prom invites. Girls are being killed for saying no to men. They are creating an atmosphere where women are too scared to say no, and the worst part is? They are doing it intentionally. They want society to be that way, they want women to say yes entirely out of fear. Even the boys and men who aren’t showing up to schools with guns are saying; ‘Well, you know, I wouldn’t do that, but you have to admit that if she had just said yes…’

If you are a man and you defend this guys’ actions or try to find an excuse for it, or you denounce what really happened, or in any way lay blame on women, every girl you know, every woman you love, has just now thought to themselves that you might lose your shit and kill them someday for saying no. You have just lost their trust. And you know what? You deserve to lose it.” —vampmissedith

When I first started at my university, a guy 8 years my junior approached me and very quickly started acting like he was my boyfriend. I was still grieving for my mother, who had just passed from ovarian cancer a few months earlier, and I had not interest in dating anyone, let alone someone I had just met. I told him this, he backed off and started dating another girl, and he and I became good friends. Fast forward almost two years, and I had to end the friendship because he kicked me. I didn’t want to do what he wanted me to do, so he kicked me. A few months later, the day after Christmas, in fact, he sent me a message saying that he attempted suicide because I ended our friendship. I told him not to contact me again. That next spring semester, his best friend, who never showed interest in joining the choir, is sitting in the front row at choir rehearsal. I immediately became concerned that he was going to use the choir, something he knew I loved, to keep tabs on me, so I reached out for help.

I went to our Title IX coordinator. She took it seriously, and so did our local domestic violence resource center. They were alarmed by his behavior, and the DVRC told me that he had been emotionally, mentally, physically, and sexually abusing me throughout our two year friendship. When I told the Title IX coordinator and my counselor what the DVRC said, they agreed. The Title IX Coordinator issued a no contact order against him, and when I informed the choir director, she got mad at me. I was only telling her what I thought she needed to know, not everything that happened, so to her, nothing was happening to warrant getting help or a no contact order. To her, I was being dramatic and overreacting. I ended up leaving the choir because I no longer felt safe doing something I once loved. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I did not have the help and support of the Title IX Coordinator, the DVRC, or even our Vice President of Student Affairs. Even with their help and support, I lost something I loved. Could I have lost even more if I didn’t have that help? How can we help insure other students in similar or worse situations at my university, and at other colleges and universities, get that same help and support? And how can we make sure that they don’t have to give up something they love because someone can’t handle rejection!

Sex Trafficking and Sex Work

I used to live in a shelter in Brooklyn. While there, I met a woman who, at the time, was in her 40s. This woman had a rough life that included an abusive mother. She told us about how when she hit puberty, her own mother had her turning tricks, and she would use the money to buy drugs. Not surprisingly, this woman also became a drug addict, and she didn’t have a good relationship with her mom.

This woman wasn’t the only one in the shelter to turn tricks. The shelter had a habit of serving under-cooked chicken, and $200 a month in food stamps only lasted two weeks. Those women who were in between jobs and were not getting social security often had to resort to creative, and not always legal, means to get food that was safe to eat. I went to a nearby vegan market and dug my meals from their trash, with permission from the employees and managers of the market. Some women panhandled for the money, some stole their food, and some turned tricks for a meal. All of us felt humiliated and degraded over the things we resorted to in order to get the very basic things others took for granted.

According to a CNN report, the illegal sex trade in Atlanta brings in $290 million each year, with some traffickers making more than $32,000 a week. Pimps in the area often “brand” their girls with tattoos unique to each pimp. While Georgia law does give authorities the ability to offer leniency if a girl chooses to get help and go to a safe home, their hands are tied if a girl chooses not to take the help. Girls are often taken as young as 14, and they are groomed and trained to think that there isn’t a better life for them. While some are able to escape, countless girls are not. And those that do escape often find that their past will haunt them for years as they try to move on into a better life. The report can be found here:

http://www.cnn.com/2015/07/20/us/sex-trafficking/index.html

With this in mind, some former sex workers and survivors of sex trafficking are advocating for changes in laws regarding how sex work is regulated. Activist Juno Mac has studied four legal models surrounding sex work that are used around the world, and in a TED Talk, she shares which one she thinks is best for keeping sex workers safe and allowing for more self determination. Here is her talk:

How can men help?

Violence against women is typically seen as a women’s issue, but that doesn’t mean that men can’t help. I’m 31 years old and I still haven’t forgotten the times men spoke up and called out a guy for sexist behavior. The first was when I was 16. My high school and the other high schools in the county had teamed up with a local Air Force base and a local technical college so high school students can start training to be licensed as aircraft mechanics. I was in the first class to go through this program, and at 16, I was a summer intern at the base shadowing seasoned workers on how they perform depot maintenance on F-15s. That first summer, I was rotating around to the different F-15 crews, and one day, I was shadowing a gentleman in the strip crew as he removed the avionics and landing gear while being cautious around the 50-caliber gun and ejection seat the egress crew was supposed to come remove. He took me to the little library in the hanger to show me how to look up the technical data needed to do our jobs, and an older guy in the library asked me why I don’t go be a nurse or teacher or something more appropriate for women. Before I could get a word out, the gentleman I was shadowing tore into the guy, saying he didn’t sign up and go fight in Vietnam so some loud mouthed jerk can tell me what job I should have. I was impressed.

The second time a gentleman spoke up, I was 17 and going on a field trip to Boston. my history teacher and the father of one of my classmates were two of the chaperones on this trip. This was only a couple years after 9/11 and an attempted shoe bombing, so going through security at the Atlanta airport was hectic. I took my shoes off and emptied my pockets and thought I was okay to walk through the metal detectors. The beeping and the waving of the TSA agent told me I thought wrong, and I was taken to one side so the agent can use hand held metal detector. Lucky me. It turned out that the button on my jeans is what caused the beeping. I rejoined a group of students, my teacher, and the father who had waited for me to get special attention from TSA, and I heard the father, who was easily in his 50s, say that he wished he got to see them to a cavity search on me. Now, I didn’t know what a cavity search entailed at the time, but I knew I didn’t want to go through one, or for anyone to see it. But, before I could say anything, my teacher told us students to go to the terminal and wait for our flight. I still don’t know what was said, but I do know that that teacher was never more that 20 feet away from me for the rest of the trip, except for when I was in my hotel room. And that father never so much as looked my way or said anything to me again.

Those two men have since been spoken about as examples of how men can help reduce the prevalence of sexual harassment and assault. Because of their willingness to speak up, I was able to enjoy a trip to Boston and I can still brag about working on F-15s when I was 16 and again when I was 17.

Matan Uziel and Jackson Katz share their thoughts on how men can help reduce sexual violence.

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/matan-uziel/violence-against-women-is_b_13539482.html

Harassment at Work

When I was 19, I was a bright-eyed, eager employee starting a new job as the overnight drive thru cashier at McDonald’s. This was my first job out of high school, and the start of my career in customer service. As I walked in that first night, I met my manager, a young woman not much older than I was, and the cook I would be working with that night, a man easily in his 40s. As we settled in, started work, and got to know each other, the man asked me if I had a boyfriend, or ever had a boyfriend. I was uneasy, but I didn’t want to start trouble at my first new job, so I said no to both questions. Then he asked if I was still a virgin. On my first night. I was, but I wasn’t sure if that was any of his business. Each time we worked together over those first two weeks, he would ask me various questions like what color underwear was I wearing or what was my bra size. I was really uncomfortable with a guy I didn’t really know, who was old enough to be my father, asking me such personal questions at work. So I went to my manager, told her what was going on, and asked her if this was normal. She told me not to worry about it, and the next time I came in to work, he had been fired. I left McDonald’s after a few months for different reasons, but this was only the start of what I came to learn was normal for a woman working in customer service.

Every job I’ve had since I graduated high school, I’ve had to dodge coworkers who wanted me to make an exception for them in my workplace dating policy (spoiler: I don’t get my honey where I get my money), and I’ve had to uncomfortably help customers who kept asking for a date or my phone number. As a delivery driver at Pizza Hut, I even had to deal with customers following me to my truck or trying to follow me home in the hopes that I would agree to go out with them. As a cashier at Century 21 Department Stores, I almost had to call security when a guy became so adamant that I give him my phone number that he refused to leave after his transaction was over and I had moved on to the woman behind him. My manager later told me that he called and complained that I was rude and should be fired.

Unfortunately, I’m not alone in this. A recent NBC poll revealed that 51% of women ages 18-49 and 41% of women over 50 have experienced harassment in the workplace. This same poll has revealed that 78% of women between 18-49 and 64% of women over 50 believe that sexual harassment happens in most or all workplaces; the same is true for 71% of women and 62% of men. Recent coverage of harassment from Matt Lauer and Harvey Weinstien has caused 54% of men ages 18-49 and 42% of men over 50 to rethink how they interact with women. You can see more on this poll here:

https://www.nbcnews.com/storyline/sexual-misconduct/poll-views-sexual-harassment-work-divide-women-age-n826011

 

Intimate Impact

Recently, several survivors discussed the impact that sexual assault had on their sex lives. Here is a transcript of their discussion. This shows that the impact of sexual assault is different for each woman. All names were changed to protect the women’s privacy.

How did you guys deal with having sex after your rape or assaults?

Eloise I wish someone could answer that. I’ve never had sex sober. I don’t remember one second of it. I’ve always been drunk out of my mind, high as a kite on coke and oxy, or both.

Flannerry I have avoided sex ever since. Not saying that’s the right thing to do but I avoid men and relationships. 😞

 

Gunhilda That’s what I’ve been doing too? I just can’t do it. I was just in a relationship had to end it because I just couldn’t do sex and he was all upset about it

 

Eloise Same thing has been happening to me. I just think of the intimacy and touching and I can’t do it. And they won’t leave me alone either. One said don’t ignore daddy. Like I just find it right now repulsive

 

Gunhilda Yep, me too. Exactly

 

Juno It’s what I’ve been doing also!

 

Eloise Thought I was the only one who felt like that. It sucks

 

Gunhilda Yea it does

 

Juno Totally

 

Eloise It’s getting to be rather lonely. But hopefully things start looking up for you both! Xoxo stay strong 💙

 

Juno My loneliness has actually been a God send! I’ve become so much stronger

 

Gunhilda I can give affection to my cats but not a guy. Pets are amazing.

 

Gunhilda You too Eloise xox

 

Flannerry It does get pretty lonely. I hope we all heal and trust again and find real love. Until then I justify how I have isolated myself because I know I’m safe.

 

Louisa I’m practically asexual a year later

 

Lulu I was got addicted to sex… I know its weird but after that I just didn’t care anymore.

 

Marceline I threw myself into dangerous situations with men (and I was only 14) constantly… I think looking for

 

Minka I understand. After what happened to me I started wanting to have sex because I was assaulted when I was a child/preteen and I wanted to know what it felt like to have sex and actually WANT it.

 

Minka That’s absolutely horrible 😦

 

Ouida It’s not weird. That’s totally understandable

 

Marceline I’m sorry for taking over this reply. 😦 I deleted my comments and am posting my own story

 

Ryder I’ve never had sex sober as well, I’ve been either drunk or high and I don’t remember any of it

 

Eloise Thinking of even having sex without makes me feel the need to do a line. Once I’m gone then I can do whatever with whoever. I don’t know I make no sense haha

 

Ryder SAME, I’m the same way as you!

 

Eloise Omg! I mean it’s probably not the healthiest thing and I don’t recommend it but omg someone like me!

 

Ryder It’s not the best thing, but omg I need to be black out drunk to have sex, or do anything like that’s the only way lol

We’re the same! It’s nice knowing I’m not alone

 

Gunhilda Mine happened because of drugs and alcohol. So I don’t need that for sex I just don’t do it at all

 

Ryder Mine happened when I was passed out drunk, so I guess I relate it to that!

 

Eloise A big part of me really wishes I would’ve been unconscious so I wouldn’t remember it. It sounds silly but I can still feel him on me. It’s making me sick to my stomach like I can’t breathe. 😖

 

Ryder Add me if you wanna talk, I’m here for you and
I’m so sorry 😔 you’re so strong

 

Gunhilda I didn’t remember but I was multiply raped by guys that took pictures and showed me the next day

 

Ryder My god, that is awful. I’m so sorry

 

Eloise I don’t understand why bad things happen to good people. Like y’all are so cool and nice. It makes me angry that this happened to you.

 

Gunhilda Feel the same with you too. We will get through this and be strong

 

Ryder None of us deserved this, we will be strong together 💓💓

 

Eloise Much love 💕

 

Nenet I always have a few shots before a guy comes over. It’s not good but it helps relax me.

 

Ryder I really don’t like the idea of sex anymore tbh

 

Gunhilda Me either

 

Wilhelmina I got addicted to sex. I think it was like a power trip for me. I liked actually being in control for once

 

Finlay I wasn’t planning on having sex after my last assault. And before I knew it I had amazing sex with a wonderful man. Two months later, we’re still a thing. It just happened. I got lucky. I felt so comfortable and protected. Didn’t hesitate for a second. It felt right on every level.

 

Kella I have finally found the love of life who supported me throughout my whole ordeal. It was almost a year before we had sex. I put my complete trust in him and it was very emotional for me. Yes, I cried during our sex but he understood. Afterwards he held me in his arms ❤️💕. So for me beautiful yet emotional 😊

 

Louise I can relate to this big time. 🙂
Marcella I became promiscuous for a while and now hate sex…not good for marriage 😣

 

Minna I cried the first couple times

 

Oya Thank you for posting this! I am really struggling to have orgasms.

 

Thane So am I! I cry every time I fail!

Oya Thane it’s not your fault. Try not to get frustrated with yourself.

I also try not to get frustrated with my abuser (at least not during sexy times).

My abuser is so in my head all the time, I actively try not to think about him when I’m with my husband.

I allow myself to be angry with him any other time, but I try to lock out the trauma inducing stuff when I’m being intimate.

I will acknowledge that I am requesting rough sex from my husband since the assault. The pain distracts me from thinking about the assault.

I’m still struggling to orgasm, but at least I can enjoy my husband touching me sexually.

 

 

Gunda It didn’t really change anything for me😶😶😶😶😶

 

Rowan Silverwolf I was a virgin when I was raped, so I don’t have a before to compare with. But after, at first I thought I couldn’t. Like something was broken. Then I kept having sex because I thought I had to; not only to prove to myself that nothing was broken and I could still do it, but also because I thought I wouldn’t matter if I said no anyway. My mind would wander, so while I was physically there, mentally I was somewhere else. I was 22 when I was raped, 29 when I was able to keep my mind in the moment while having sex for the first time, 30 the first time I orgasmed during sex, and 30 the first time I wanted to have sex with a guy who wasn’t pushing for it (spoiler: we never have sex because HE wasn’t interested). Now, I’m 31, and there’s another guy I want to have sex with, and I’m pretty sure I want to because he’s not pushing for it. It’s like being treated like a person instead of a sex toy is a turn on for me. Is it me, or is that kinda sad?

 

Marceline I was a virgin too.. then was raped again and then became a quadriplegic, so… it’s weird. but it has been 26 years since, and I’ve been with my husband 17 years now. He makes me feel safe. I just struggle sometimes with wanting to be dominated – I think maybe it serves to recreate the rape in a situation where I know I am actually the one in control? (because I can trust my husband to stop anytime I ask)

 

Minka I was a virgin and a young child. When I turned 13, my abuser moved out of our house, and I wanted to experience what sex actually felt like so I had sex in every “major” relationship I was in. I wanted to know what it felt like to actually have a choice.

 

Marceline Rowan, it is not sad… it is exactly how you should feel when someone you like respects you. And I’m so happy you’ve found someone who does

 

Louise Oh man… This is a tough one. All I can say is it was a slow, gradual, and awkward situation for me… But I’m sure everyone’s situation is different and unique in its own ways.

 

Lula I was 14 at the time and didn’t become active until I was 18. After I turned 18 I went to the polar opposite direction. In relationships, I was ok with sex until we got past the “surface get to know you” stage, then it went to “don’t touch me”. I am now 37 and it wasn’t until 2 years ago that my now husband and I have an understanding that it may not always be possible because of my frame of mind. He and I have been together 5 years now.

 

Marcelina My rape was 25 years ago. I became very sexually active and aggressive for many years. Then I got married and had sex less and less. Now I can’t have sex at all. I just can’t. I hate being touched.

 

Velma I took charge! It helped to have a strong sense of control.

 

Yaotl I tried to have sex after I was assaulted but I completely broke down and was physical sick I’ve been scared ever since and will no longer let any guy touch my body as I panic

 

Athena I have been struggling with this for 10 years. I can’t relax in the bedroom. I can have orgasms but it takes forever, and I truly trust my husband. In fact, he’s the only person in the world I do trust. Honestly, smoking marijuana before sex helps me the most.

 

Bethari My husband raped me twice, and sexually abused me. I just numbed my emotions to the sex when it happened before I left.
I was raped again by a friend, not too long ago after my girlfriend’s birthday outing. That was harder for me to deal and process. Sex is just … it’s different, and it sometimes takes me thinking hard to get turned on. But I’m determined not to be celibate – I am in a relationship and in my own head I’m determined to make sure my traumatic experiences don’t poison it.
My bf and I have a code “safe” word in case triggers happen.

 

Freya I won’t lie I was always high or drunk if I had sex after it happened until I met the guy I’m with now

 

Freya It took time like legit I’m surprised he is still with me on my bad days I will push his buttons he deserves a metal one night I told him no he stopped completely N I started trusting him more not just sexually but emotionally it wasn’t easy still ain’t some days but literally he didn’t even realize how much I care about him because he is the first guy I had sex with sober since it happened

 

Minerva It took a lot for me to do it again after but I knew he loved me and didn’t push me at all but it was very emotional I just broke down! you know when you feel like you can trust them! ❤️

 

Eponine I may sound different or weird, but I had sex with my husband a week later. I never attached what that piece of shit did to me, with the special thing I have with my husband. What that guy did was a crime. What I have with my husband is beautiful. We’ve always been extremely sexual people. Me and him are very physical, always have been. I’m grateful that it didn’t change that part of my life. But I know it did change me as far as how I see myself and how I see strange men.

 

Aurora Good question it was 7 years ago it happened to me and I still haven’t had sex x

Brock Turner, Round 2

I’m sure by now that we’ve all heard about Brock Turner, the Stanford swimmer turned convicted rapist who only spent 3 months in a county jail for sexually assaulting an unconcious woman. Well, he’s back in the news. His lawyers are asking for a retrial claiming that the jury heard only lies, and they are asking that his rape conviction be overturned. His lawyers are claiming that the assault did not happen behind a dumpster, as testified to in court. It was out in the open, and that the jury received “extensive ‘behind-the-dumpster’ propaganda.” So, they say it wasn’t a crime to penetrate an unconscious woman, who could not consent to the penetration due to being unconscious, because it was out in the open? Personally, I don’t care if it was behind a dumpster or in the middle of Stanford University campus. She was unconscious and could not consent to being vaginally penetrated. That’s assault, and that’s a crime. Part of me hopes that he does get the convictions overturned and is granted a new trial. Perhaps that would allow a judge with some sense to put this guy behind bars for years, and this stunt backfires on him and his lawyers. Here’s the link to the story: https://www.buzzfeed.com/juliareinstein/turner-appeal?bffbmain&ref=bffbmain&utm_term=.bkQXWBBWQe#.wjx10qq0mg

This is a good time to talk about the people who commit sexual violence. 7 out of 10 are known to the victim, half are over 30, and 57% are white. They are often serial criminals. For every 1,000 suspects referred to prosecutors, 370 have at least one prior felony conviction (including 100 who have 5 or more), 520 will be released-through bail or other means-while waiting for the trial, and 70 of the released suspects will be re-arrested for committing another crime before their case is decided. A majority of released perpetrators are arrested for another crime within 3 years. Generally, perpetrators are spending more time in prison, with the median time served going up by about 10 months. However, for every 1,000 rapes, only 6 rapists are incarcerated.

These demographics came from rainn.org/statistics, but I want to know about the psychology of guys like Brock Turner. Why do they do this, and why do they think they shouldn’t be held accountable for it? I’ve heard many times that it’s all about power, control, and dominance. That it has nothing to do with sexual attraction, and it’s all about getting what he wants no matter the cost, even if that cost is the mental well-being of a friend, relative, or stranger. If that’s the case, then how do we get them to stop hurting innocent people for their own personal gratification? What need does committing rape fill for the rapist, and how can that need be filled without harming an innocent person?

Tales from Two Women

Maria Bonita*

Back in April, I  was sexually assaulted in my own home by a guy I never knew alone, only in crowds. He wasn’t invited, but when he showed up it’s not like I expected him to do that. I just remember trying to stay alive trying not to fight too much. He was so much stronger than me. I didn’t want to go like that. I wasted no time going to authorities, but I had a feeling justice wouldn’t be served and that’s what happened. I was never talked to and rarely informed about court dates. I never even got to testify. I felt like a bother to everyone. Now he’s out there living his life again, and all I’m told by my attorney is to get counseling and don’t let this affect you. I don’t know who I am anymore, and every time I want to talk to someone, I just feel like a bother. I want to give up more and more everyday.

 

Meav*

I was date raped a few months ago. It re-traumatized me from repeated sexual assault as a teen. I have been very promiscuous in the past, but now I feel the opposite, but not in a good way. Being single and trying to still date, I’ve realized how often men joke about doing things to my body that they never asked if I wanted. It’s especially triggering because I was anally raped in the middle of consensual vaginal sex. So I have major trust issues even if we do get to the point of sex. It’s starting to make me shut down. I had a long conversation about everything with my best friend the other night, which I thought was good at the time, but it’s really made me shut down from people in general. Most of the people who I would talk to throughout the day or go and see, I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve just been keeping to myself. This is hard because  I feel like it’s changing me into something I have no control over.

*Name changed to protect identity

Boudicca*

My very first serious boyfriend was a handsome man. He was an intellectual, a wonderful conversationalist, charming, poetic, and mature. I met him through a friend. Within weeks of our first meeting we were dating. A few months after, I moved in with him against my family’s wishes. He was twenty-five, and I was nineteen. The first few months were so wonderful. I had begun taking classes at a university, and my evenings were spent havingdeep conversations on the porch with who I thought was my soul mate. All relationships have a honeymoon period, but the good ones keep going and become enriched. The good ones conquer obstacles, and trust is always present. Pretty soon, the edges of our relationship began to peel back, revealing what was underneath that pretty package. I started noticing how much he drank, and these moods he would get into that were dark and brooding. Something wasn’t quite right with him. Sometimes, he would ask me to leave the house because he wanted to be alone. I was not allowed to simply go into another room and close the door, I had to leave the house completely. I explained this away to myself as him just needing alone time. But when you make a commitment to live together, that’s just it. You live together. You should never feel unwelcome in your own home. Right? It was during this time I noticed that his drinking was getting worse. He was on prescription medications but I didn’t know what for. He would drink after taking those medications and, he would change. Eventually I found out that his medications were anti-psychotics. His mother told me he had antisocial personality disorder and schizophrenia. She had explained to me that she agreed to keep it a secret because she didn’t want me to leave her son without giving him a chance. The first instinct I felt was pity, but there was a feeling in the pit of my gut that told me I was in over my head. As time went on, his behavior got more aggressive. I became depressed. I loved him deeply, so deeply that I felt I would lose a part of myself without him in my life. By the time I got home from school, he would be drunk, and he would be angry. The physical abuse started when he would play “games” with me. He would call me a weakling and force me onto the floor and choke me, laughing all the while, saying that my tiny fingers would never be able to pry him off. These “games” got more and more intense, even though he knew I hated them, and even though I begged and pleaded each time he put his hands around my neck. One evening he choked me so hard that I passed out and woke up an hour later with a bruise around my neck and bloodshot eyes.

He was possessive of me. Though he did not love me, he loved the idea of having power over me. One evening he told me to leave the house (he was in another one of his moods) and I gladly did so, because by this time it was a happy option to the alternative, getting choked out or punched in the arms and chest over and over. My childhood friend, a guy I lived down the street from, picked me up. I confessed to him that I had to do somethingand get out of the relationship, but I was scared of what might happen. It was a very sad evening, because both of us knew that something bad would eventually happen if I couldn’t muster the courage to get out of that relationship.

When I came back home the house was quiet. My significant other was nowhere to be found. I called for him. No answer. I noticed the door to my room was cracked. I remember what happened next like it was yesterday, even though it was over ten years ago. I entered my room to find all my things thrown to the floor. Precious things my mother had given me, destroyed. Shattered on the floor were lamps, porcelain dolls, and glasses my grandmotherhad given me. He was in the corner. His pupils were dilated, he saw right through me. He grabbed me by the arm and threw me right in the center of my broken things. I remember feeling the glass stabbing me everywhere, but it wasn’t painful, it felt cleansing. It felt that way because I knew that after this, there wasn’t any going back. After this, I would be rid of him-whether it be in a casket or being hauled to safety in the back of a cop car. He waited for me to get up, and as I picked myself up off the floor, blubbering and crying, asking why-I reached my hand into my pocket and speed dialed my friend, but dearest boyfriend was too smart for that-he knew instantly what I had done, and as he shouted his objections of betrayal and called me every name in the book, he grabbed me by my hair and slammed my face into the wall. By this time my adrenaline had kicked in. Maybe he thought I would go down after one good bash upside the head, but he was wrong. Without hesitation, I turned around, grabbed the first limb I could get ahold of, his arm, and bit the hell out of him. He cried in pain and stepped back shocked, and I took the opportunity to run. As I ran out of the house I saw my friend’s car pulling into the driveway at top speed. I ran for the car with boyfriend dearest hot on my heels. I didn’t look back, I didn’t scream, I just ran. It was only when I was in the car that I saw what he had in his hand; a tire iron with my name on it. He was yelling, “I will kill you.” As my friend skidded out of the driveway he threw the tire iron towards us as hard as he could.

I wish I could tell you that I pressed charges. I wish I could tell you that it was the last time I ever saw my pursuer. I wish I could tell you that I lived happily ever after, but sadly that is not the case. Terrible events such as this take a toll on you, and in the months following I began struggling with alcoholism, a disease I would carry around with me until the latter part of my twenties. I went back to boyfriend dearest over and over again, and though he never had another episode like that, over and over he would betray my trust. He would openly cheat on me, he began playing his “choking games” again, and he would threaten terrible things to me if I ever left him. The worst part about this is that his mother knew what he was doing, and when I threatened to go to the police, she proposed a counter threat to have me arrested for leaving bite marks on him. Bite marks that were left when I had to defend myself from being choked to death.  

As I continued classes at the university, I met a friend who said she had a place I could move into. It was a very crappy place, with very crappy people as roommates. But it was a place that boyfriend would never find me, and so I moved in. Over the next few years I moved around a bit, and even dated other men, unbeknownst to dearest. I was weening him off me, you see. By this time he was cheating so openly that it was convenient forhim to have me out of the house. I visited him less and less, and I pitied the girls he was preoccupied with. There was one incident where I came for a visit to find he had bashed a girl’s head through the dry wall. He swore it was an “accident”. Eventually he became a distant memory. Eventually. But he left his mark on my life both physically and mentally. Alcoholism was my way of coping with the abuse. But it only made things worse. It made me prey for other men with similar mindsets.

One night I was at a bar, and I had met some older man who loved music and thought I was smart. I only had one drink that night, mainly because I was broke and couldn’t afford to drink. One moment there I was having a conversation with this man, and then the next moment, I was waking up in a place I didn’t recognize, with no clothes on, and that man was laying in bed next to me. It was pitch black outside, around 2am. My car was outside. It was the only car on the premises. Good. He couldn’t follow me. I drove straight to the doctor’s office. Well what happened next is just your average cliché. Tests proved that I had been date raped. I filed a police report about it. Long story short, the dirt bag got back on the streets in no time and was left to roam free doing the same thing to other women as he did to me.

Years rolled on. I dated off and on, no one good. I had some flings, I dated one guy who seemed great for a while and then tried to cut his throat when I left him. I got date rapedagain, this time by a friend, and didn’t press charges because that life long boy next door friend that I told you about earlier beat him within an inch of his life. I spiraled down and down and down. I tried some drugs, I spent many nights surrounded by people yet feeling so alone as I desperately tried to drink my feelings away. I dropped out of college and worked dead end jobs. I lied to my family about my well-being. I tried to kill myself twice. I almost killed someone else by being irresponsible. I hated myself.

But one day, I got a message from some random guy on Myspace (yes this is way back in the day). It was a guy who knew one of my friends, and he wanted to introduce himself. Well it stands to reason that by now I was an avid hater of men, and his seemingly innocent introduction was met with suspicion and disinterest on my end. But something deep down sparked my curiosity about him. A few months later we were chatting regularly online. He had gone through a terrible divorce. I shared a very watered down version of my terrible break up. Eventually, he asked me out on a date. I agreed. But when that day came the fear and untrusting attitude I had toward men reared its ugly head, and I cancelled. A few days later he asked If I would like to reschedule. I agreed, but again the day came, and I backed out. He was persistent, but not overpowering. After several conversations he asked to reschedule. I agreed again. That day came, and as I was getting ready my grandmother (whom I was living with at the time in attempts to get back on my feet and improve my life) came into my room and said to me, “Don’t blow that boy off again, I have a good feeling about him.” I was odd for her to say something like that, seeing as how she had never liked anyone I had ever dated (rightfully so, I had terrible taste in men). Well, I listened to her. I met this man at the theater. We saw Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I married him two years later.

 

If you’re reading this, and you’re going through something like what I went through- If you’re saying things will never get better. If you’re trying to drink away your problems, if you’reconsidering suicide, if you blame yourself for all the bad things in your life. Stop. Stop right now and feel my heart when I say-IT WILL GET BETTER. Feel my heart when I say, IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT. Abuse is abuse. It often starts small, and then gets worse. A LOT worse. Listen to your heart. Does it feel right, or does it feel off? Does that person have you in their best interest, or are their games laced with malice and hate? Rape is rape. No one ever has the right to take you against your will. You are not consenting by being in a bar, having a drink, and flirting. Saying nothing because you are passed out is NOT saying yes. No one owns you. The love that you give is a gift-it is not a show of submission but a show of trust and strength.

I truly believe that God sent my husband to me, to show me how a real man acts. He never once disrespected me for my troubles, or saw me as weak because of them. Rather, he saw me as a warrior who had endured through hardship. He supported me with every decision I made. When I chose to go back to school and finish my degree, he was right there holding my backpack. When I graduated and decided to get my Masters, he was right there holding my hand. He loved me when I didn’t love myself. He helped me to see that I am worth something. He showed me that I am an independent, strong person. Here I am six years into my marriage, and as I look back and see how far I’ve come, the old me is just a distant memory. I no longer hate myself, I no longer blame myself. And here I am sharing a testimony that has been uttered to very few souls on this earth.

Bad things happen. Will you let them define you? Or will you let them empower you? 

*Name changed to protect her privacy. 

Nymeria*

Nymeria had two stories she wanted to share.

I’d been married for about a year. things were getting rocky because I found out my husband had been cheating one me…I’d say since our wedding day…but it turned out that I was actually the other woman. I’m on the east coast and he was working in California. He decided I should fly out and spend the week with him..to try to work things out. It was right before Valentine’s Day; he gave me purple flowers, a box of chocolate, and Starburst minis. I hate chocolate.

He said that holding your wife down while she struggles and tells you no in her “playing hard to get.” He said that he was entitled to my body because I was “his WIFE” and he’d bought me gifts. He said if I “didn’t put out” it meant I was cheating on him. I have a medical condition that makes my muscles not work right…I couldn’t defend myself..I just kept yelling “No!”…I stared at the wall. He’d made his roommate move out and there was nobody in the next rooms…no one could hear me. Ten or fifteen minutes later he got off me, headed for the shower, and said “Whatever…it’s not like I finished anyway.”

After we got back…he tired to do it again…with my 3 little girls in the next room. After I filed for a retraining order, his mother testified that I deserve to be raped because the way I look taunts men. She said it wasn’t rape because when you marry a man…you become his. Why didn’t I call the police in California? Because he would have left me there and kidnapped my kids. I wasn’t his first victim…he bullied the others into not testifying. Now he has sex with 16-year-olds in his truck.

Both times he ripped my clothes. But it wasn’t his fault…he was just trying to take what he deserved. It was my fault for resisting.

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I got charged with disorderly conduct for repeatedly asking a police officer to remove a former friend from my property. He had been visiting me…he raped my best friend in the upstairs bedroom while I was downstairs. The police said it wasn’t his fault and they wouldn’t charge him…because she had been drinking. She drank too much and went to her own bed…he was supposed to be sleeping on the couch, but went to her bed about 30 minutes after she did. She wasn’t even awake.

*Name changed at her request.

Kitty Wilde*

I was in a relationship with a man I was engaged too when he sexually assaulted me. He had already been verbally and physically abusive.

People treat sexual assault like it always happens from a stranger, like you are over powered or drunk or drugged. They never talk about it in terms of a relationship. I remember one time in particular my ex was drunk and wanted to have sex. I said no, I was not in the mood, he insisted he could get me in the mood. I told him again I didn’t want to but he started forcing himself on me anyway and I figured it would be easier to let him. I laid there looking up at the ceiling with tears coming out of my eyes. He rolled over and went to sleep when he finished and I took a shower and felt disgusted.

I confided in a friend that he had raped me and she gave me a strange look, saying it isn’t the same as real rape because we were together and I had had sex with him before. I felt confused and depressed and alone.

I didn’t say anything again, I also became pregnant with his child and we became engaged. I was more afraid of being alone than I was staying with a man who abused me. If someone had told me that non consensual sex..even in a relationship is still wrong I might have felt like I had a choice instead of feeling like someone was entitled to my body.

*Name changed at her request to protect her identity.