That’s what I should have told him. Why, why, WHY didn’t I tell him to get out of my car? Get out of my life! Get out of my ass! Because I was a stupid seventeen year old girl who was desperate for love.
Please note: this is a little graphic, and is not suitable for children.
It is only recently that I have truly come to terms with something that happened to me when I was a teenager. (In all reality, this was only about seven years ago). At seventeen, on Thanksgiving, in the backseat of my own jeep, I was raped by the guy who was my boyfriend at the time. And up until recently, I let the blame fall squarely on my own shoulders.
NOT ANYMORE. And I need to tell my story.
Up until that point, there were signs. There are ALWAYS signs, I promise you. He would call me by the wrong name, had at least 3 other girlfriends, make EVERYTHING sexual by forcing me into sexual texting or phone conversations, beg me to play with myself while I was on the phone with him, be super controlling about what I was doing and who I was talking to, tell me I wasn’t good enough for anyone else and that he was the best I was ever going to get so I had better worship the ground he walked on and do everything I could to please him… And we were 17!
I didn’t tell any of my friends or family how bad it was, and I didn’t leave. I saw all of the signs and did nothing. And things got worse… a lot worse. On Thanksgiving, I was driving him home after dessert with my family when he asked me to pull into the elementary school back parking lot so we could have some alone time (read as: so we could have sex). Of course, I did it, and it wasn’t the first time we had slept together by any means. Everything was going fine, until he decided to take it one step farther than I was ready for, and I had no choice in the matter. He was a wrestler, and much stronger than I was. I was flipped onto my stomach, and anally raped by a guy I thought I trusted because he said he loved me.
Let me tell you what, that fucking hurts more than anything on the planet, and I’ve been through labor and delivery, plus c-section pains. And afterwards, he kissed me and apologized saying he “couldn’t control [his] hips.” Biggest crock of shit ever.
I open up about this because afterwards, I told no one. Absolutely no one. I went home like nothing was wrong, and cried myself to sleep for days. I sat on the edge of my bed, praying that I wouldn’t wake up the next morning, begging God to let me die. I couldn’t take the pain anymore and tried to kill myself. I took a handful of ibuprofen pills, and went to bed, praying that I died from the overdose. Now, obviously, since I’m writing this now, it didn’t work. I woke up an hour later and threw up every ounce of everything in my system. I spent every minute following that for a year cursing God for letting this happen to me, and for making me endure the pain and not letting me die.
Today, I will never be able to express my gratitude to God for not letting me die. God wasn’t trying to punish me. Sometimes awful, awful things happen to really good people. And really good people have to suffer for it. I am no longer suffering. I want to be a voice to girls (or guys) who find themselves in a situation with a controlling boyfriend or girlfriend, or who have been abused or raped by their significant others. I want to tell them that there is ALWAYS a way out. I want to be a voice for young girls (or guys) who self-harm and have suicidal thoughts. I want them to know that you never, ever have to be alone, even in your absolute darkest hour there will always be someone who cares enough to say “I’m here for you and I love you just the way you are.”
I needed someone like that in my life at seventeen, and I didn’t have anyone because I shut everyone out of what was going on in my life. No teenager should ever have to do that or feel that way. No young girl should ever have to go through what I went through, and I guarantee a later post about the current “rape culture” throughout the U.S.
The Suicide Prevention Hotline is available 24/7. If you need a reason to keep living, please call 1-800-273-TALK (8255).
Safe Horizons is a phenomenal group that helps women and child who have been abused in any way. Their phone number is 1-800-621-HOPE (4673).
*NOTE: I am in no way a paid spokesperson for The Suicide Prevention Hotline, or Safe Horizons; I am just telling my story.
I am also in no way condoning teenagers having sex. I made a lot of very poor choices as a teenager, and would strongly suggest to anyone who asks to wait until you are in a serious, committed, safe, and consensual relationship with someone you truly love before having sex.