My story

When I was 12 years old going on 13 a friend of the family, who was around 18 or 19 was staying at our house because he  had nowhere to go.  He was like an older brother to me.  We played, wrestled, and bantered often.  He was the cool older friend who treated me like an adult.  One night Hanson was on Conan O'Brien and my mother agreed to let me stay up with him and watch it, as long as HE promised to make sure I went to bed when it was over.  He was now in charge.  That night was the first time someone attempted to rape me.  I got away, ran to my bedroom (tried to be quiet as not to wake my mother because she had to got work at 5am) and slept next to to locked door as to barricade myself into my room.  I can't remember where my sister was that night, probably with a boyfriend or something.  The next day I told my Grandmother I was sick and stayed home from school so that I didn't have to leave my room until I knew he was gone.  I heard him leave hours later and ran down to lock the doors.  He never came back, thank God. I know my mother knew something was up because he left and didn't return, but I never told her.  I decided that I must've led him on somehow that he thought I wanted it, that when he told me I was being a tease he was probably right. I didn't know what it meant to be a tease yet. 

About 7 months later I gave into the next guy who tried to have sex with me, who was 18, because I didn't want to be a tease again.  I had decided that 'tease' meant you flirted with them and if they wanted to have sex with you and you said no that you were just a 'tease'.  I thought tease was a bad thing, and I didn't want to be bad.  I didn't feel good about it, but since I didn't say no (remember I was still only 13) it was completely my fault that an 18 year old guy had sex with me.  I'm aware most of the population thinks that a 13 year old girl can properly consent, but unless you've ever been a 13 year old girl you really don't know what you're talking about.  If you waited til you were older to have sex then you don't know what was going through the mind of the 13 year old who was afraid to say no. 

3 months after that a friend and I were hanging out with her older boyfriend.  He was 23 and we were 13 (me) and 14(her).  We went to his MUCH older friend's house, a man of 52 years old who was married and had an 8 year old daughter.  He let us drink, then tried to touch us.  I didnt' give into that one, there was nothing about that in which I thought a man that age would think a child only a few years older than his daughter would consent to sex with a man my Grandfather's age.  I got out of there FAST.  Less than a year later when I was 14 a young man my sister brought home forced himself on me, telling me that if I screamed he'd hurt my sister, nephew, and mom who were all upstairs sleeping.  I was already in trouble for acting out and getting arrested for shoplifting, I didn't want to get anyone hurt when all I had to do was let him have his way.  When it was over he told me "they'll never believe you if you tell, guys like me don't have to force ourselves on fat 14 year olds."  He was right, I told my sister a few weeks later when I knew there was no chance of him returning, she didn't believe me.  I truly think she just didn't want to fathom that she brought someone into our house that hurt her baby sister.  I wish she would've said that instead of "I don't believe that he came onto you, it was probably you coming onto him".  The fact that she'd been raped before didn't help her process what I'd just told her.  I can only hope that she now knows I didn't lie to her.  Since she didn't believe me, my own sister, I didnt' tell anyone else. 

For the next 7 years I went wayward, especially after my sister died when I was 15.  I prayed that she'd forgiven me for what she thought I did.  I know she loved me more than anything, and I was so sorry that she thought I'd ever mess with a guy she liked.  From then on I became rather promiscuous.  Because I was young and still under my mom's roof it didn't start out so bad.  I had a boyfriend for most of the year after Cassie's death so that kept me being good.  Once he and I broke up all hell broke loose.  I slept with anyone who showed interest because I didn't want to look like a loser that nobody wanted, and because I'd learned to be scared of saying no.  There were a few times in there that I got down to it and said "no" before the act began, only to be completely ignored.  I didn't think that was rape because I took off my own pants. 

When I was 18  met my 6 month long stalker.  He was weird and obsessive. I knew him 3 days and by the time he left (well, had to have him removed by police) I was covered in bruises and he called and stalked me for months after until I finally got my dad involved.  He threatened his life and I never heard from him again.   My dad died when I was 19, so he'll never again be able to threaten the life of an abuser so I'm on my own.  Thats scary.

A few years down the road I was hanging out with a close girl friend, she was messed up on every drug under the sun and left me alone with her dealer/pimp.  I realized I'd just been traded for drugs.  How anyone can have sex with a girl who's crying for them to get off of her I'll never know.  I've not spoken to that girl since.  A year and a half later a guy I was breaking up with decided I needed a 'goodbye' rape.  I reasoned it away saying that 'if thats what it took to get rid of him, I can get over it".  I of course always had in the back of my mind that it just seemed I attracted nothing but abusers and rapists.  I've also dated two men who put their hands on me.  I even got blamed by that by some faceless internet people. 

I once opened up to an ex about my assaults, only to be told that I was a horrible person for not reporting them and that it was my 'duty' to do so.  The victim is always the one who's supposed to be 'responsible' about the events that follow.  Forget that I'd had to be practically raped again in court to even possibly get someone a slap on the wrist.  I was thought of as a slut, so nobody was going to listen.  People often forget that perpetrators seek out victims who can be easily discredited.  All of these instances caused me to not think much of myself, always settling for abusive boyfriends and any affection I could get.  I'm not sure I don't still do it, as a matter of fact I know I do sometimes.

To victims of rape, molestation, or incest:  Its never your fault. Nothing you wore, nothing you said, and nothing you did made it ok for them to hurt you.  Be you a man or a woman, you are not to blame. THEY violated YOU.  YOU are the victim.  Do not be ashamed.  I say don't be ashamed, but my hands shake at the idea of posting this because I know there will be internet trolls or even people close to me that don't believe me. I sometimes don't believe it myself, its a rather wild history.  Sadly though, the more fucked up a story sounds, the more likely that its true. 

I've spent years hiding behind my fat, thinking if I hide they won't find me.  Thats never worked.  I hid behind promiscuity thinking that since I was such a slut that I deserved it, that those men must've saw something in me that I was in denial about.  I've gotten better over the last several years, but its still a struggle to remind myself that I'm a grown woman and I'm allowed to say "no" when I don't want to be with someone.  I've been 'taught' by boyfriends that "love" is a word that people use to control you, so I've recently been chosing boyfriends who don't say they love me, because if that word isn't spoken then its less likely that abuse will ensue.  I don't trust men.  The only men I trust are furry and walk on all 4's, my cats.  There are family members whom I push away because I think that they're far too good to be related to me, so I piss them off until they stop talking to me.  It hurts, but it keeps them safe from me.  I'm pretty sure my current boyfriend isn't in love with me.  The sad part is I'm ok with that, as I said: the ones who've said they loved me hit me and/or tried to kill me. 

This is my story.  I hope it inspires someone to share their own.