It was a very
strange time of my life. Not that I deserved what happened. No-one does. But
who was I and how did I get there? Did I really
say no or did I just
scream it in my head?
Does he remember it at all?
It was our first year at college and we were all enjoying the wacky freedom of drinking, smoking pot and getting to know the guys. And there were lots of guys. Most of us grew up in small towns and were used to knowing 90% of the population. Uni was an entirely new thing. There were cute guys, gay guys, sweet guys, mean guys, weird guys and best friend guys. They didn't fit any stereotypes we knew, and we were able to meet them all.
So for a while it was fun. Get drunk, pash a guy, maybe have sex if things were right. Leave the pub with the guy as your friends make unsubtle, tacky, knowing comments. Skulk through the communal lounge room with your guy in tow as everyone smirks. Do the "walk of shame" when you have to stumble back to your block the morning after, half dressed and bleary eyed.
We hadn't been in this new environment for long when I met him.
It was a night out and he was a friend of a friend.
You know how it is.
And we met and drank and then a group of us went back to college to drink some more.
Around 4am, do you want to come back to my room?
He shrugged, yeah, if you want.
Once we were there we started kissing, fondling, getting into it.
Do you have a condom? He shrugged, nah, it'll be okay
I should've said no, that it wouldn't be okay, it wasn't going to happen. Fuck that, buddy, and get on your bike. But I was desperate for someone to love me, and I thought I could change his mind. We could just cuddle, right? Fall asleep wrapped around each other? We could do it another night, right?
No, we couldn't. He got more insistent and pinned me down. -but maybe I didn't say anything maybe he didn't hear me maybe I should have punched him I thought I said no but he's a nice guy he would have stopped if I had-
And the next thing he was inside me and it hurt. I wasn't a virgin and I didn't have my period but there was blood on the sheets the next morning. And the next morning he left me on the red striped sheets and kissed me on the forehead.
See you around then. I shrugged, yeah, okay.
And I saw him around for a while because he was the friend of a friend. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone what happened (it was my fault, I led him on), let alone the friend who introduced us. He acted as if we'd never met.
Finally I told someone. I had to have the STI test. She reassured me and eventually it was all okay.
I'm not a "victim" or a "survivor". It was just a bunch of stuff that happened.