This isn't easy for me to talk about. Sometimes I feel that if I had used common sense to begin with, I wouldn't have ended up in such a situation. I have blamed myself partly for what happened to me. I am learning that the victim is not to blame for rape, no matter what the situation was. I never expected to be treated the way that I was, but the warning signs were there, and if I had seen them, I could have gotten out of the relationship before it went bad. Of course, one doesn't see the warning signs until it's too late.
I was 30 years old, and as I said on another page, I was a virgin. I went into this relationship with the attitude that I didn't care what happened. I was fed up with men (the one in the harrassment by a friend segment, to be specific), and decided that I just didn't care anymore. I went into this relationship knowing it would be a physical one.
I consented to have sex with this man on a number of occations. Someone asked me quite recently, why would a man take something that he could have gotten an hour or two, or a day or so later. I don't know how to answer that, except that Rape isn't about sex, it's about control and power.
I was raped three times by this man. The first one I didn't consider rape until I looked back at the relationship as a whole. The second one, I questioned his actions at the time, but the word rape did not cross my mind. After the third incident, I kicked him out of my life completely, I knew that that one was rape.
The first one was the first time we had sex. I had told him I was a virgin, and that I really wasn't sure. I told him I wasn't sure if I was ready, and asked if we could wait for awhile, just a few minutes, an hour, whatever. He said no, that there was no reason to wait. I felt like I was made to do something that I didn't want to do.
The second one was a few weeks later. I had had a long day at work and I was tired. I sat on the floor wrapped in a blanket. He wanted sex and I told him I was too tired and could we wait until I had rested for a while. My back was stiff, and I could barely move. Less that five minutes later, he pulled the blanket away, pushed me over, held me down and raped me. When he was done, I rolled away from him and cried. I asked him why he did it, why he couldn't have waited; he had no answer other than to say he was sorry.
The third time, I was laying a recliner wrapped in a quilt. I had 103 degree temperature; all I wanted to do was sleep. I was so sick that I had no energy at all. He climbed in under that blanket and raped me. I tried to struggle, but I was so weak, and I was really trapped in the chair. I could barely breathe. It was awful. After that, I kicked him out, and never let him come back.
He tried to get to me for a while, but my friends and my co-workers protected me, although I never told them what he had done. No one ever thought he was right for me, so when I didn't want him around, they were perfectly willing to stand up for me. I stood up to him at work infront of my collegues, and he never bothered me again.