Day 2. Stories of Women*: Untitled

I was young and in love. He was 19 and in college. I thought it was such a boost to my social status to date someone who was in college and in a rock band. Who wouldn’t want that? I was only 15 when we met. He had been playing basketball in our community park and I was teaching catechism in the nearby church. I was naive and wanted to be in love. I approached him one day and asked for his number and we started texting. He said he had only broken up with his girlfriend and wasn’t ready to date. I was okay with that. We became friends and I thought maybe he’d learn to like me.

A month had passed; he started seeing me in a different way. Maybe he was starting to like me. Alas, just like that, he did. We were hanging out by the park, that night and he told me he liked me. It was music to my ears. I told him I’ve always liked him. He held my hand as we were sitting by the bleachers of the community basketball court. We talked about everything, our hopes and dreams. I felt like maybe I can be part of his plans eventually.

It was young love. Well for me it was. We went on dates, mostly at night as I escaped from my house because I was not allowed to have a boyfriend. After all, I was little miss perfect. We spent those nights just talking and making out. And months had passed, and he started wanting more. He asked to hold my boobs and I felt uncomfortable but he said that’s what happens in relationships. He was my first boyfriend so I wouldn’t know. Against the no screaming in my head I let him touch me in all places. Not long after that he started initiating intercourse. At first he let me suck his dick and I felt scared because I didn’t know how to do it. He pushed me on the floor and commanded that I knelt in front of him. He pulled my hair and told me to open my mouth and stuck his dick in my mouth. I tried sucking him but then he slapped me saying what I was doing was wrong. I was so scared. I was shaking. This was the first time he hit me. When I got home I brushed my teeth several times to get the taste of his dick out of my mouth. But I can still feel it in my throat. I threw up in my bathroom just thinking about it. That night was so traumatic I cried myself to sleep. I wanted to text him that I didn’t like what was happening. He told me it was my duty as his girlfriend to please him. I apologised.

I didn’t know why I did; I didn’t feel sorry at all. I was in love with him or at least I was infatuated with him. The next night he said he wanted to fuck me, I said I wasn’t ready. Again he slapped me, pushed me on his bed and started taking my clothes off. At that point I was already shaking. As he kissed my body, I froze and tears just started running down my cheeks. And just like that he thrust his erected dick into me. I was screaming inside but my voice was gone. I wanted to stand up and run away but my body would not cooperate. My body betrayed me and it was my fault for even meeting him again that night. After he came, he told me to put my clothes on and he’d take me home. I sat in the shower that night just crying and shaking. I was disgusted with myself. This wasn’t how my first time was supposed to be like. After that night, I didn’t reply to his texts.

Then I started receiving threats like “what would people think when they find out little miss perfect is not a virgin anymore?” or “do your friends know you’re a slut?”. I got scared so I kept meeting with him and we’d have sex every time. Every time I would do something wrong he would punch me or slap me. I started wearing a jacket to school to hide the bruises. It became a trend but what they didn’t know that inside I was dying. I was dead. It went on for months when he would threaten me and physically hurt me and I let him. He would say it’s my fault for being a shitty girlfriend.
One day I finally got the courage to tell him that I didn’t want it anymore. That it was over between us. I wanted to leave. But, he pulled my hair, dragged me into his room and started beating me and when I wasn’t resisting took my clothes off and fucked me. I was young and in love but I knew that love wasn’t supposed to hurt. I cried myself to sleep every night and during the day acted like everything was fine. I played the part of little miss perfect perfectly.

At that point, I didn’t use my phone anymore. I just wanted to disappear into thin air. One day, I got a friendster message from him saying, “I am breaking up with you. You are a shitty girlfriend and I don’t want you anymore. Besides, my girlfriend and I have gotten back together.” Just like that it was over. But the nightmare did not end. I felt betrayed and hurt and lost and angry. He was not even sorry for what he did. I felt like the world was closing in on me.

My world completely fell apart. I started harming myself, slashing my wrists. It felt like I wanted to escape this world. The black hole was eating me and I was letting it. But, I stopped myself, I started coming to terms with the past and focused on moving on. I continued to be little miss perfect. Besides, it was only a few more months until my high school graduation and I got to leave that place and try to forget all the pain. So I did, after graduation I went away, and never looked back. At university, I started being active in women’s rights. I realised that what happened to me, was rape. I never gave consent. I was threatened, I was abused.

I felt the guilt of having done this to myself that it was all my fault and thought about all the what ifs, what if I hadn’t approached him? What if I just left him and walked away. Up to this day only my closest friends know what happened that year. Even my parents don’t know. I was never really ready to tell anyone. I was scared of what the world would think. It’s been more than 10 years but it still haunts me. I am hoping that by sharing my story, young women would not let any guy guilt or threaten them into doing sexual acts just like that. We go through hell and we survive. Surviving just doesn’t end when the acts end. I hope that one day I will completely heal from this dark moment in my past. Healing is a long process but it get’s better.