I was raped… 7 and a half weeks ago by the guy I was “dating”.Yes, I´m over 30 and I was raped. I trusted him and felt “safe” around him. He had been extra kind that night, super attentive… we had been together before and it was always fun…until that night… he was working at a concert and I was there for fun, to see him, because it was a beautiful full moon night. I knew he worked late so I told him I was leaving and he walked me to my car. Told me to meet him around the back. He got in my car with me and raped me. I said no, I begged, I kicked, I cried… He said it was pleasing him, he said “well, I´m already in”… I couldn´t escape… I was in shock, terrified, sad… How could he do this to me? I´ve tried to understand why? I know Ill never have an answer… I´ve been trying to pull my life together these weeks… when someone asks me how Im doing, I wonder do they really want to know??? Everyone thinks he´s so great… a local war hero… ha! and yet I didnt report it… I felt I had everything to lose. I believe in the power of sharing our stories of healing and fighting this f*cked up culture together. I dont want to be silent even if Im scared.
When I was 12 I had a crush on an older boy “dylan” who I was in choir with. Every rehearsal I would try to give him a nice smile hoping I would get his attention, unfortunately, I got his attention. One day during rehearsal he walked over to me and told me that I seemed cool and he wanted to be friends. He explained to me that if I asked the conductor to go to the bathroom,and if he asked to go to the bathroom, we could both sneak out of rehearsal and “make friends”. This made me feel so cool. I thought I was gonna hang out with and older kid and have fun, so of course I said yes. After that we both asked to leave at the same time, and as we were walking out, “dylan” shoved me into the women’s restroom (unfortunately it was empty besides us two) and pinned me to a wall and started to kiss and molest me. He later on shoved me to the ground and forced me to give him oral sex and then came all over my face. During that same year he stalked me and crept around my house. I hope that one day I can lift this feeling of uncleanness and shame off of my shoulders once and for all.
I was 19 when this happened to me. I was at my friend, Mike’s, house watching a movie. While I was watching the movie, he leaned in & kissed me.
I didn’t know what to do, so I kissed him back. He tries to kiss me again, but I refuse & tell him I’m just there to watch the movie. “Oh, come on! I know you want it”, he says as he starts kissing me more & I’m telling him to stop. Then he starts kissing me “passionately” & touching me in private areas under my clothes.
Before I can yell at him, he’s on top of me – holding me down as he tears my clothes off of me. “Don’t worry, I know how to do a girl right”, he says as he takes his pants off. In that brief moment he’s not on top of me, I try to run out the door – even though I’m half-naked.
He grabs me by the shoulders, screams, “What the ****, Katherine? I thought you loved me?!?? You kissed me back, didn’t you?!?” & then throws me down onto the couch. He punches me in the face & wraps his hands around my throat. He gets back on top of me, covers my mouth, & then fingers me with his other hand. Every time I scream, he tells me that I “like what he’s doing” or that I’m “enjoying it”. Then, he ‘actually’ rapes me (forcible sexual intercourse).
When he’s done, he spits in my face, puts his clothes back on. He calls me a “dirty little wh*re” as he leaves me there – crying & in the fetal position. After he’s gone for a few minutes, I hurry & put my clothes back on & ran out of there as fast as I could.
I never talked to him again after that. I drove myself home & took an extremely hot shower to try & clean himself off of me. I didn’t go to a hospital because I was terrified that he would somehow come after me & rape me again.
I did tell the bishop of my church about it & he (the bishop) asked me a bunch of sexual questions, probably to find out if it was “really rape”.
He kept asking me things like, “Were you wet?” “
Did you get s*xually aroused?”
“What clothes were you wearing?”
“Where did he touch you?”
“Did he use his p*nis?”
“Did he do/use other things to arouse you?”
“What position were you in when he penetrated you?” … I was completely appalled by that & stopped going to church because of it.
I Wanted to See the Aquarium
The first person that ever saw my bare chest was Jimmy.
We were both 12 at the time.
It started off as playful kissing and after saying no a few times, he forced my shirt up so he could see my chest. I laughed and ran away.
Jimmy was the son of my dad’s best friend.
Parents that are best friends — they make their kids hang out.
They’ve always lived far away, but we would visit them in the summers and attend large family gatherings.
So there was a party and that’s the first time I met Jimmy’s cousin Colin. I was 14, Colin was 18.
The first person that ever offered me a drink was Colin. We were standing in the side yard with a bunch of kids and he offered me a drink. I said no because my little brother was standing right there (and I’m too stubborn to fall into peer pressure). Years passed. Colin would comment on my Instagram posts, text me on my birthday, ask when I was coming to visit again — all very innocently.
I liked the attention.
When I was a sophomore in college I was feeling adventurous with the freedom of college and a little money in my pocket. I told Colin I wanted to see the aquarium where he lived because it was the largest in the country. I bought a plane ticket. He bought us aquarium tickets. I was 19, Colin was 23.
He was a family friend so I figured it was fine. My dad knew I would be there — we even scheduled lunch with his best friend (Colin’s uncle) so I could see him while I was there. Colin picked me up from the airport and we had a very easy going day and a half with the aquarium, exploring, and trying new food. Anytime I picked up my phone he told me to stop texting my friends and pay attention to what was happening with him.
When it came time for sleeping, he said to share the bed with him. I said no both nights and slept on the floor. When I showered, I took all my clothes in the bathroom so I didn’t have to walk around in a towel. I didn’t bring flirty clothing with me. We went to hang out with his college friends — guys and girls. We watched football, ate Chinese food, played frisbee, and made a last minute decision to go see Andy Grammar and O.A.R. Colin offered to buy my ticket, I said no and paid for myself. Sitting on the rooftop bar above the concert venue I used my fake I.D. to get myself a Blue Moon.
I felt so cool.
Everyone in the group went down to the concert, Colin said to stay with him for one more drink. He sat across from me and told me he wished I lived near him because he would date me in a second. I rejected that notion — friend zoned him.
He seemed to take it well. We walked downstairs and found the group we came with.
The next time I had a glimpse of consciousness, I had fallen off the back of a barstool onto my back and the bouncer was kicking me out.
Andy Grammar played a full set. O.A.R. played a full set. I got photos taken with Andy Grammar (I only know because I have the photos).
We left and went to four different bars, all using my fake I.D. I have no idea how I got in. I don’t remember anything.
The next morning Colin dropped me off at the airport. I went to the bathroom after I got through security and it hurt as I peed. I texted Colin and asked if we had sex. He said yes. I was very confused. I flew home, told my dad it was a great trip and drove back to college. I was at college for a few hours when my hands and feet started to swell and I broke out in hives. I went to MedExpress and got a steroid shot.
It didn’t help. My hands swelled so badly that I couldn’t sign my discharge papers at the ER later that night after more allergy medicine and steroids. Days passed. A glimpse of consciousness came back to me. I was on a futon with Colin over me, forcing himself into me. I sat up, grabbed my jeans, and walked into the bathroom.
Did that really happen or was that just a dream?
Days or weeks later I was in the mall when an O.A.R. song started playing and I burst into tears and needed to leave. I didn’t know why. In the weeks that followed, I started drinking a lot. I started blacking out a lot. But no blackout was quite like that night with Colin. I started to realize the night with Colin wasn’t a normal blackout.
I looked up the reactions to being allergic to date rape drugs. The reaction to GHB can take up to 24-48 hours to set in — enough time for me to get back to college without a reaction.
That’s when — about two months after the trip — I realized and accepted that Colin had drugged and raped me. I went home for a weekend and told my dad.
He punched the kitchen counter and then walked over and hugged me.
My dad called his friend and yelled. Colin’s dad called my dad and said he would force Colin on a plane to come up and apologize to me.
I said no. I never wanted to see them again. My dad refuses to travel to that city, not even for business.
I didn’t eat Pho for years because Colin taught me how to eat it. I cringe when I see a Mazda Miata.
I can’t listen to certain music from that weekend (even though I don’t remember hearing it).
When I got my wisdom teeth out at 23 years old, I was allergic to the fentanyl. Fentanyl allergies are related to GHB allergies. It’s been about 5 years. I still live with it every day. I still question myself.
On July 19, 2003, my 14 year old daughter went to a party with a girlfriend, and was given date rape drugs, held down and raped by several young men. The DNA came back showing only one man did not use protection. He also raped a 12 year old neighbor while waiting to hear the outcome of the charges from raping my daughter. He avoided jail by convincing the judge to use a Deferred entry of judgement, a loophole in California law created with the election of Prop. 21. Senator Roy Ashburn now has a bill pending in the Capitol, SB 520, and Assemblywoman Audra Strickland has a similar bill, AB 743. You can go to aroundthecapitol.com and type in the bills under search, and get a chance to e-mail the committees who are hearing these bills. Please put your voice out there for them to hear, even if you are not from our state. It is important that we close these loopholes which allow rapists to walk free.
My story begins in late October of 2003. I had met “Ryan” online. I guess I should have known to be more careful, but since the time my father had passed away I had become more reckless, I was somewhat promiscuous. I met with “Ryan” several times, and we started getting closer. On October 31st,a saturday, the program that I lived with at college was going to be having a halloween party. “Ryan” expressed an interest in coming down to it, so I drove up to his house to bring him down.
When I got to his house, he had already been drinking. I guess looking back that should have been my first sign, but like I said “what if’s” won’t help me write this. We left his house, returning to my school, and he continued to drink the entire way back to school and he continued to get worse and worse.
Once we got there and got up to my dorm room so I could change, he began to be beligerant to my roommate and was harassing her. She left to go to the party, I finished getting ready, and we headed downstairs to the part. By this time he wasn’t feeling well and was getting sick, so I told one of the girls running the party that I would be back later, because I was supposed to help out.
I ran back upstairs and changed out of my costume. I was a victorian vampire, I can remember all the details of my dress: the color, the way my hair was, my makeup. So many insignificant details. I can see my friend when i told her I had to leave, I remeber all the decorations in the basement. I can see it all in perfect detail, those few hours before my life was forever changed.
The drive back was pretty uneventful, with the exception of him trying to get out of my car while I was doing 70 on the freeway. I got him home and while he was able to get out of the car by himself, he almost passedout at the door, and I had to use his keys to get into his house. He crawled in the door and passed out on the floor. Now I had never seen anyone so drunk before and I was worried that he would be ok or not. I helped him up and got him on to the couch. I think back on this moment and wonder why I stayed, why I worried about him. I didn’t know him that well, why did I care. I guess I’ll never be able to answer those questions.
He gained some semblance of consciousness while he was sitting on the couch. I asked him if he was ok, and if he needed anything. He got this look in his eyes, its a look I’ll never forget. I’ll never know how he did it, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back on the couch. I was wearing a long skirt so he was able to pull it up. I kept telling him no, and that I didn’t want to, but it was like he wasn’t there. His eyes where blank as he watched me struggle against him. He ripped my underwear off and pushed himself inside of me. I remember crying, and I just kept begging him to stop.
I don’t know how much time passed, but he was finally done. He got off me and just went back to sitting on the couch and he turned on the TV. For me it was like I wasnt’ there anymore. I couldn’t understand how he could just sit there like nothing had happened. I sat up, pulling down my skirt, I couldn’t find my underwear. I never said a word to him, I just picked up my purse and calmly walked out the door. The minute the door was closed I ran to my car, it was like as soon as that door was closed between him and me, I could feel again. My body hurt everywhere.
I got in my car and drove. I don’t remember where I went though, school was only half an hour to 45 minutes away and it was about 1am or so. I didn’t get back to my dorm until 10:30 that morning….I have no memory of those hours.
I went to the college wellness center was examined and was given the morning after pill. I tried to continue school, but my grades started slipping. The spring semester rolled around and i was placed on academic probation. I started not going to classes, not doing homework, just generally not caring abotu school because I couldn’t care about myself. Towards the end of the year on of my professors tol dme I would fail his class and that i should get a withdrawal from it, so that it didn’t affect my grades. To do so, I had to petition the deans office. I waited over a week for an answer from them, and when i got it, it wasn’t what I expected. I was granted the withdrawal, but I was being forced to take a leave of absence do that I could deal with my “issues”. The wellness center had told the deans office everything that had happened, and the deans answer to that was to kick me out for a semester. _____________________________________________________________
I would be a year and a half before the semblance of life that I had made for myself would be destroyed again. I had returned to school. I had jumped through every hoop that the deans wanted me to and I was allowed to return.
It was May 7th, the guy that I had been seeing on and off again since January, “Allan,” asked me to come down to visit him. I hadn’t seen him in about a month, so I decided it was a good idea. I had an idea that he was expecting something to happen because we had been intimate before, but it wasn’t what I wanted to see him for. I got there and he buzzed me into his apartment. I went in and he was naked, just about to take a bath. I came in and got settled, I started flipping through the channels on the TV. “Allan” was in the bathtub and he called for me to come to him in the bathroom. I got up and peered around the corner: he was sitting in the tub and he was shaving himself down there. I wouldn’t know how important that was to be until later.
He came out of the bathroom wearing just his boxers and a t-shirt, and sat down next to me to me to watch TV. We smoked some weed and he had a few beers. After while he got hungry so I cooked dinner for him. We continued watching TV for awhile when we leaned over and started kissing me. When he started trying to touch me I told him to stop and that I didn’t want to. He stopped and just went back to watching TV; it was almost like he forgot that I was there. A few minutes passed and he started trying to kiss me again, and one again I told him to stop. This time he stopped long enough to get up and grab my arm and drag me to his bedroom.
He pushed me on to the bed, and because I was wearing a skirt and tank top he was able to just push them up while he went to hold me hands down above my head. When he got my skirt up he pushed his fingers into me. It felt like he was digging his nails into me. The louder I would cry the more he would hurt me. He stopped that and because he was wearing boxers he pushed himself inside of me. He let go of my arms and I started pushing at him trying to get him off of me. He got angry and bit me in several places on my chest. When I started screaming he wrapped his hands around my neck and started choking me. I became terrified that he was going to kill me. I passed out, and when I came to I was on my stomach and he was behind me trying to push his fingers into me anally. When I started crying again, he told me to shut up and started calling me name. He then tried to push himself into me anally. I was doing everything I could to stop him, and he finally did give up trying. He moved me back onto my back and started to rape me again. My body seemed to have stopped working, I couldn’t fight him anymore and I stopped yelling, but I remember still crying.
When he was done, he just rolled over and seemed to fall asleep. I was finally able to make my body move again. I got up and managed to leave his apartment.
It was nearly 4 a.m. before I was able to leave…it had been 6 hours of hell that he put me through. ____________________________________________________________
My life hasn’t been the same since that night. I was doing so much better;it had been a year and half of counseling; I was piecing my life back together at that night tore everything I had worked for away. Slowly, through the help of those that I have to support me I am realizing that he won’t win, that I have control of my life, and though it might be a long road I’m not alone.
I was sexually assaulted twice once by a stranger once by a close friend. I went to the authoritys and was called a liar. I will not be silent any longer.
I was 20 years old. And i was going through a tough divorce from a military relationship. “Paul;” was my best friend and was helping me through divorce. Or so i thought. My family was on vacation and i had let “paul” stay at my house because i didn’t want to be alone. (the ex’s family was crazy). He had kissed me before that night. But i saw it as nothing more than very good friends. That night, as i lay in my bed, he forced himself on me. I said no, he just pushed harder. I cried, trying to push him off me, afraid that he’d hurt me.
I was so afraid to tell anyone, so i did nothing. You always hear about the rape cases that nothing ever gets done about. About 9 months later, after my baby boy was born, i decided to speak out about what he had done. But it was too late. My mom had known about it, my therapist, my current boyfriend. Their support helped but it didn’t cure. “paul”; gets visitation of my babyboy and continues to take peices of my soul away from me.
My word of advice: please please dont wait to tell someone. They can help
At 21, I was happy and successful. I had a loving family, great friends, a man who loved me, a good job, nice car, and I was living on my own. One of my male friends asked if he could stay with me while his apartment was being prepared for him to move in. I told him yes after talking it over with my roommate.
My boyfriend from Chicago came to visit me one weekend, and my friend didn’t like it. I didn’t understand why he was so angry with me. After my boyfriend left for the evening, my attacker and I got into an argument after which he spent the next few hours raping me.
There was no way I was able to stop him from doing what he wanted to do to me. He had me pinned down on my bed, ignoring my screams, tears, and hits. When he stole my most precious and priceless gift reserved for my future husband, I died. When he penetrated me, he took my virginity.
I only remember bits and pieces of the remainder of that night. After he left my room, I curled into a ball in the middle of my bed and cried. At some point, I got up removed my clothes and bedsheets and washed them. I took boiling hot water with bleach and started cleaning my house. I scrubbed the floors, tables, and vacuumed the couch where he was sleeping. I don’t know at what point he left the house, but I noticed he was gone. While I was cleaning I tried to be quiet, so I wouldn’t wake up my roommate. I didn’t want to have to explain to her what just happened and why I was crying.
I don’t remember how long I stood in the shower scrubbing my skin. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, angry and frustrated that I still didn’t feel clean. I could still feel his hands on me, and I scrubbed harder. My skin was so raw and tender when I got out of the shower, but I wanted to get back in and scrub some more.
I went to work the next day, speaking to no one, only speaking when I had to. I had no idea of how I was going to tell my parents or my boyfriend. I didn’t want to hear the I told you so’s. I didn’t want to be touched, looked at, or even thought of by anyone because I felt so dirty, ashamed, as if what happened to me was my fault.
For me, the letters of rape stand for removing all possible evidence, because that’s what happened to me. The person I was before the rape, was gone. The letters of survivor stand for strengthening, understanding, respecting victims of incest, violent crimes, or rape. The sexual assault support group through Stepping Stones of the YWCA helps me because I’m strengthened by sharing my experience as well as listening to the experiences of others.
When I was 12, I was in a relationship. One night he wanted to “have oral sex.” I wasn’t ready for that. He then left me with a scar and some bruises and took my virginity by rape.