It’s strange to use that possessive pronoun with a word like ‘rapist,’ but that’s what you are. Perhaps you’re someone else’s rapist, too, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have now come face to face with the truth.
Only weeks into our time together, you were pressuring me to have sex. I was not ready. However, your answer would always be “I’m not waiting forever.” Right then I should have left you. But, I was insecure and you seemed to show genuine interest in me. I was never impressed by your lack of commitment to things other than being a frat guy, your marijuana dependence, or the fact you had five or six previous sexual partners, but I tried my hardest to look past all of that.
It was a day that I wish I were able to change. Our favorite bar, $1.00 pitchers of Natty Light, and what I thought would be a normal day. I remember drinking three beers and a mere 12 hours later, waking up in your bed naked. I never sleep naked. Never. How did I get undressed? And why were you being completely unsympathetic to my confusion? Why was my inbox full of messages from concerned friends who had seen me that day?
“I was so blacked out too!” you kept repeating over and over. Just simply warming me up for your grand finale…
“Oh, and I didn’t use a condom.”
How convenient of you that you remembered such an important detail. Just one of the many things I did not (or never would) consent to. That morning as I walked home, I had never felt so alone with the knowledge that I had been raped — by you.
I knew it was wrong. I knew you were wrong. I knew sex without consent was never acceptable even if I was your “girlfriend.” You had no right under any circumstances. My body was not your property. Yet, my insecurity was at an all-time low and I thought it was just a one-time mistake, so I stayed hoping you would change. You didn’t.
I have lost sight of who I am. I have lost my sense of rational reasoning and thought. I have lost my faith and spirituality. I have lost friendships. Deny deny deny deny was my daily thought process. Maybe if I do this or this, then that feeling or nagging thought will go away. Yet, it never did. You have made sure that every action, every move, and every risk I take is met with a sense of panic.
What you did to me the State of Ohio defines as RAPE according to The Ohio Revised Code, Title 29, Chapter 2907.02. Being that you saw my inability to resist or consent because of my impairment due to intoxication, and that your actions resulted in extreme mental anguish, it was AND IS a felony.
But let’s face it. Even if had I filed a police report and sent it to my family attorney and even if I would have had the courage and physical ability to have gotten a rape kit, you still would have easily escaped punishment. In fact, your all-forgiving mother would have saved your incompetent, spoiled, immature self. Sadly, for you, it will be that way the rest of your insignificant life.
You are a violator and waste of space. You did things, which you can never take back. You disrespected the trust I had in you and forever tainted my belief in loving relationships and the true meaning of sex. However, many people expect me to hate you. I don’t hate you. I hate what you did. I will still hold onto the hope that you can become a new and improved person through all of this. That you can become more responsible and respectful of women. I will forever hold that hope because of the fear of you continuing to ruin the lives of your future partners.
Understand this though: I do not wish for your friendship. I do not wish for your response. I do wish, however, that you never hurt another woman the same way you hurt me. If you do, you best hope you never meet me on the street, or for I will greet you loudly and clearly with your most enduring title:
A survivor and your victim no more