That summer we also attended our first Tori concert together, and it was amazing. And then he went away to college four hours away. I considered moving up there with him to finish high school, even though my parents would have forbid it. I became distant from my mother. And then what I considered the worst happened. He cheated on me and dumped me. But he kept me in the air with promises of how we would be together soon and that this was just something he had to get out of his system. He would tell me of his sexual experiences with her and then tell me he still loved me. And I believed him, even though I suffered a hysterical pregnancy during that time, in which my body thought I was pregnant but I wasn't. So when he came back to me in January of my junior year after that relationship had failed, I took him back. And when he got sick in February, I was there for him. But this time I made it clear that I was a little more independent. I made a point of seeing my friends. But tha! t scared him, and he got extremely possessive. And not knowing anyone but him, I let him. When he went back to school, he demanded that I check up with him whenever I went anywhere or did anything. The violence continued, and everyday I was called a bitch, a whore, stupid. I started to believe him. And he even convinced me to stop the therapy I was in as a junior. He said I didn't need to pay a shrink to tell me what he could tell me for free.
I decided halfway through my senior year that I would be fine without him and that I wanted to experience my life for the first time and maybe date other people, something I had never done before. But when I told him, he went crazy. he became more possessive, more emotionally abusive. The worst night of my life was one night during his spring break, towards what I call the end. We had just returned from dinner, and we got into another fight about me wanting space. He got angry and pushed me off his bed. I hit his bedside table on the way down and landed on some shoes. He was yelling at me while I started to hyperventilate from crying. I went into the bathroom and leaned over the toilet until I composed myself five mintues later. I went into the room again, and he looked at me and said "I hope that Chinese food tasted good coming up." When I got my things to leave, he backed me up against the door and threatened me with his piercing eyes. And then he tried to fix everything with sex, even though I said I didn't want it. And his parents were in the next room the whole time. People don't understand why I stayed as long as I did, but I was scared. He was all I knew. He said I was going to be a whore with every guy out there and that I was nothing but trash. Me, who had only been with him. And then he threatened to kill himself, and then me. I became scared to leave my own house, was always looking for him in some corner wherever I was. He always said he would never let me go. After I disconnected my phone, he terrorized me through e-mail, telling me I was ruining his life and that it would be my fault if he killed himself. I entered a support group. I went away to Europe for a month, the nest month of my life. I attended two Tori concerts with a friend, a very liberating experience. I saw him in public once before I went away to college, and he still maintained that I ruined his life. When I went to college, I got all this attention from guys that I wasn't used to, and I liked it. It seemed like I had a potential boyfriend every week. And then I started to come across two types-- the type that wanted to save me, and the type that wanted a quick lay. When I came home for my first break, my ex sent me an ICQ message informing me that he was with someone else now and that I had failed in my plan to ruin his life. That was the last time I heard from him. The last I heard was that he was thrown out of college and still dating his new girl. But I wasn't jealous. I was afraid for her, because I knew it would only be a matter of time.
And even though those feelings of love I had had for him once are long gone, he still affects me. Second semester, I started drinking every weekend and smoking pot. I thought I could escape reality through a false sense of self-esteem. I got a reputation and became something I never thought I would become. Any attention I received became good attention to me. I became familiar with a couple of roommates on the soccer team and quickly became the girl they could pass back and forth whenever they got drunk. A couple of guys tried to take advantage of me. A close friend of mine was raped. And then I realized that I wanted to reinvent myself.
Fear replaced itself with anger. It's been over a year since my breakup, and even though I still have days where I don't want to get out of bed or I want to forget about the person I became, I know that I can be whole again. Almost.
I am in the process of finding a new therapist, because I know I can't deal with this on my own. As much as some people may say that it was just the story of another complicated relationship or another tale of "puppy love," they will never know the scars I've endured. I just hope that someday someone special will see the light I've hidden. Someday.
Angela
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in seventh grade it happened again. i was in the a gifted program and i was the youngest and the only girl. an eighth graded pushed me. he made comments and exposed himself to me. i didn't tell any one.
i only trust guys i know VERY well. the rest scare me. i've lived a normal life and have a boyfriend who i've known since seventh grade. all i can say is that i needed to tell someone.
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i had forgotten about it until when i was 13 years old i went to stay with joe and his mom down south where they had moved. one night he climbed into my bed and held me down and raped me. the harder i cried the more he hurt me. he did it everynight for two weeks. i stopped crying and just laid there and let him rape me. when i went home i never told anyone. i have only told three people since then. i don't talk about it and i try not to let it run my life. it happened and it's over. right?
i am 19 now i have been in a relationship for two years and i love him. but when we are intimate i freeze. i die inside. i get so scared and can only see joe in my head. i make him get off of me and don't want to be touched at all. it eats me up that i get afraid of the one guy i trust and love. it makes me feel horrible that i have to put him through this. he says he understands and never gets mad. but i get mad at myself.
jupiter_519
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Long story short, I lost my virginity to him, and of course, giving him that gift didn't make him love me back. In fact, it made him realize that he could have sex with me whenever he wanted. I didn't go into it with that mind set, and of course, retrospect gives you perfect vision, but I was 14 years old, and wanted to trust him when he said he would call me later or next week or next month! And I was still "so in love" that whenever he called or came over for sex, I was there, ready and willing to give it to him. This went on for a couple of years. Even though I had gotten into a relationship with someone else, that was pretty serious, I cheated on him several times with Alan - one time, Alan even came over while my boyfriend was there and we had sex in the next room, sadly at that age, I was too blind to see that that was REALLY wrong, and too naive to know that this man was USING me.
So my boyfriend at the time started talking to me about it - he knew what was going on and it was actually pretty helpful. I mean, of course, he was prolly protecting his interests more than anything, but he starting talking to me about things like SELF-love and respect for oneself, and I started to realize that I *was* being used sexually by this guy. So, I started to put my foot down... I stopped talking to him and a year or so passed by before I saw him again at a junior college. Naturally (or maybe it wasn't) he called me a day or so after we saw each other. He wanted to go hang out, start things over, catch up, that sort of thing. I figured enough time had passed and I was stronger, so why not?
We started becoming "real" friends again, and then one night he called me and was pretty upset. Turns out some girl had broken up with him and he was "sorry" for the way he'd treated me all those years. He asked me to come over in the morning before I went to school. Of course sirens were going off left and right and I said no at first, and was probing for him to tell me WHY he wanted me to come over so bad.... I should have just hung up the phone, but I didn't, and he eventually wore me down and I agreed to go over in the morning.
October 18, 1991. While at his house he pushed me back on the bed, and despite my protests proceeded to have sex with me. 8 years later and there are times like this when I still find it difficult to say "he raped me." There is STILL that part of me that thinks it was all my fault. I never should have gone over there. I never should have tried "to be a friend." It's all my fault. And even though there's that rational part of me that KNOWS that he could have listened when I said no, or he could have let me up when I was fighting against his 6'3"/250# frame, but it just didn't happen. And for the past 8 years I have been holding a constant battle with myself.
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a young man takes a small childs hand
into the closet they go
so he can satisfy himself
and relieve anger that he has held up inside
too scared the child crys not making a sound
silently wishing him away
each time the emotional pain grows
the child tells no one in fear of punishment and just more abuse
years pass and this child is now a young women
she still carries the resentment
the emotional pain causes her great strife, always putting herself
down
everything that goes wrong in her life is a result of her foolishness
foolishness for letting him to his to her
she looks in the mirror disgusted by her pathetic life
she causes herself agony hoping the pain will eventually cease
hiding the hatred only makes things worse
things are getting worse
there's no forgiveness, she wishes him death
I WISH HIM DEATH
Beth
AOL IM: NJHC304
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I went on to move out of my mothers home, and to lead my own life..when this terrible crime stuck me again. This time I was 21, and it was a stranger that did the attacking. A few mates and i were wanting to start a band, we had been rehearsing late into the night. this particular night i told them to go on home and i would load the equipment in the van. as i was loading it and strange man approached me and asked me for a lite. i didn't have one on me at the time, i told him i was sorry and expected him to just leave. He didn't. He grabbed me and with all his force knocked me into the nearby fence. i struggled and fought, i screamed, punched, kicked, and even though i am not real religious i prayed. like i had never prayed before. i thought he was going to kill me. when it was over, he took off. i was beaten, bloody and bruised but i was alive, at that point that is all that mattered. I don't recall how I got home, or even if I even put the rest of the equipment away. Looking back I think I did, and find that very odd that I took the time to do that while I was in such pain.
When Little Earthquakes came out..that was a turning point for me. I most related to the song crucify the lines "just what god needs, one more victim" and "got enough guilt to start my own religion" are two lines I can honestly say change my life. I know that I was NOT going to be a victim any longer, it was only then that I started to heal. I'm not healed, not by no means. This crime outrages me. I have recently had someone I love more than life itself raped. And I have started going though the pain all over again. it seems to just be a continual cycle. That scares me so much I cant express it.
My advice to woman all across the world is simple. When faced with this god awful crime. Fight back for yourself and stick together.
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