I just relived that night yet again.
You know the one. The one where you raped me.
We've spoken about it. Senior Prom. You looked so damn sexy in your Navy uniform. I was so proud to be on the arm of my beloved sailor.
I knew you were the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I can't tell you how many times I practiced writing my name with yours.
That night was a blast hanging out with our friends after the prom, drinking and just chilling.
After they left, we continued the night alone, two people madly in love.
Something in you changed that night.
Maybe it was the alcohol combined with your temper. Maybe it was just something deep inside you that woke up.
I don't know what it was. You called it 'animalistic urges'. That phrase makes me just ill.
How could you?
We were so happy together. How could you take that from us?
How could you hold me down and sodomize me...the woman you loved more than anything? The woman you wanted to have babies with...and grow old with.
How could you ignore my screams and tears?
You took something from me that night. Something precious. Something no one has the right to take away.
You took my love for you and turned it into a lifetime of self-doubt and self-loathing.
It's taken me almost 30 years to realize that. A lifetime of self-hating and self-abuse.
Did you know I still get flashbacks? The latest one was just a year or so ago with my husband. Someone I trust implicitly. In a moment of passion one wrong touch sent me into a fit of hysterics.
Almost 30 f*cking years later...you still affect me. You still have power over me.
Did you know I've never dated another red-head? That for years I hated diamonds and roses because they reminded me of you?
The Road to Forgiveness is Long
7 years ago you and I reconnected. Through text we talked about that night. I wanted to confront you. To tell you what you did to me. You remembered it...but never thought of it as rape. I guess because we lived together, huh?
I thought I had forgiven you. Hell, part of me actually wanted to see if we could rekindle our passion. How sick is that?
We stopped talking for a bit and then I reached out yet again. I still thought I had forgiven you. That we could be friends, bonded by our love for weight lifting.
It almost wrecked my marriage. My husband could not even begin to fathom how I could be friends with my rapist.
I couldn't explain it.
The truth is, I haven't forgiven you. I thought I had. I wanted to. I wanted to be the kind of person who could forgive such a heinous transgression. I guess I thought maybe if I faked forgiveness it would become real.
I was only deluding myself.
This morning, as I write this, I feel so many emotions.
The greatest among them is truth.
I'm angry. I am so f*cking angry.
Did I mention angry?
As I relive that night for the hundredth time, I realized I'm not healed.
I haven't forgiven myself.
While I've told myself for years that it wasn't my fault...I did nothing wrong...I did not deserve what you did, deep down I still felt that somehow I earned it. That I led you on because we were in the middle of making love and what right did I have to say no?
The true question is, what right did you have to rape me?
The answer in case your wondering...NONE. You had NO RIGHT.
Maybe now that I have realized the truth I can start to truly heal. Maybe by realizing my truth I can be more empowered to help others.
What I do know is...you've held way to much power over me since I was 18 and that stops today.
We're not friends. We're not anything other than rapist and SURVIVOR. Because I refuse to be your victim.