19 and half years ago, I was raped.

I won’t go into specifics here about what happened, but if you’re especially curious, I’ll tell you personally.

Very few people know about the incident; maybe five friends total and no family members.  (My parents were told about it by my therapist when I was 14, but I did not speak directly to them about it.)  I have kept the story, as well as the fallout locked in me for almost 20 years, but bringing it out recently has unearthed a slew of horrible emotions, and even flashbacks.  Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better, they say.

As it turns out, I’m pretty typical for a “survivor.”  I feel the same bizarre mixed bag of emotions - rage, guilt, apathy, and shame, that many people who have been sexually assaulted will feel.  I never really did the research on it, though, I suppose because I knew that letting this out of my personal psyche closet would cause quite an avalanche of stuff to sift through.

After the rape, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I did to deserve it.  Was it the way I dressed?  Was it because my boobs were bigger than most girls my age?  Was it my hair color?  The way I walked and presented myself?  Then I started to change all that stuff, I suppose in hopes of staving off another potential attack.  I wore bulky, unattractive clothing.  I acted like an angry bitch (some things haven’t changed?).  I shunned femininity - I refused to wear make up, wear pink, grow up my nails, or shave my legs.  I started to pierce my ears and other parts of my body… this was partly for punk effect and partly as a vent for angry and violent feelings.

I was awash in shame, too, not just because it had happened at all (this is how I lost my virginity with a male), but because of how I felt toward the person who did it afterward - I didn’t hate him like I thought I was supposed to.  I even hoped sometimes that he actually liked or loved me, or wanted me as a girlfriend.  This seemed so totally fucked up to me that I hated myself for years about it.  As it turns out, it was an excellent defense mechanism… “You don’t control me or my body, and I’m not afraid of you.”

I was also ashamed of how I reacted during the rape.  This was not a Lifetime movie event… I didn’t kick, scream, bite, claw, punch, or pull out hair.  I basically went limp, closed my eyes and checked out, then stayed there, as still as I could, until he was gone.  My thoughts about this?  ”What the fuck is wrong with me?  Why didn’t I fight him?”  My therapist has given me a fantastic gift - she has not only pardoned my behavior, but explained it, as well.  He was bigger than me, and I was in shock.  My reaction, or lack thereof, was natural and normal for the circumstances.  Fighting back could lead to worse injury or possibly death, and my subconscious apparently knew that and did what it could to protect me.

I have carried these awful feelings and memories for 19 and a half years.  My body and mind have gone through much, and a good chunk of the negative can be attributed to ten minutes in my thirteenth year of life.  However, I refuse now to say that this person ruined me, broke me, or fucked me up.  As tempting as it is, I have to own up to the fact that the event did shape me, but I grew up with it, and it has made me who I am.  Of course there is still negative in there with the positive, but I’m working through it now, with the help and support of my fantastic therapist, friends, and partners.

I’m writing this for two reasons: One, I want to get it out of me and out in the open.  I’m [almost] done being ashamed and feeling guilty about it.  I’m done hiding.  I don’t need to talk about it everyday, and I don’t need it to rule my life, but it doesn’t need to be a secret anymore, either.  (Even still, as I write this, it feels more like a confession than anything else… obviously, I still have a ways to go before I’m healed.)

Two: if this, or something like it, happened to you, and you are hiding it inside yourself because of the shame or guilt, *please* know that you are not alone.  My therapist has said that some insane percentage of women have been raped - about 70%.  And, of course, men can be raped, too.  If you have gone through this, please talk to someone and get some help to sort through your feelings, before they eat you like they did me.  What happened is *not* your fault, and you did nothing to “deserve” it.  You are welcome to write me directly if you would like to.

Strange note… I remember his last name, his brothers’ names, and his face, and even what he was wearing… but I cannot remember what his first name was.  Another strange note… part of me wants to find him on facebook.