Sexual Assault: My story & how to get through it.
I decided to write this to help others who have experienced sexual assault to not feel so alone, and to help them get through it.
Before I get into my story, I would just like to add a disclaimer. This story is graphic and possibly triggering. ❤
It was a few months after I turned 18. Here’s a little back story to help you understand what was going on in my head: Around August-September, I went through a break up after a long, and pretty serious relationship. I still wanted to experiment sexually, as in the relationship I had just ended I was not able to explore all the things I wanted to explore. I have always been quite a sexual being. I enjoy sex and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. And I knew that. And at the time I wanted it. I had just come out of a monogamous relationship and I wanted to have fun. A few months passed with not much happening. I was still hurt from the breakup and getting back into the “single life” was still pretty new to me. I had a few vanilla hookups here and there — nothing crazy, nothing special.
I was young, and wanted things spiced up. I wanted to experience new things, and things I had been curious about for a while. I found this new guy, let’s call him Jay. Jay was a typical, hard-headed type metalhead — as was I. We exchanged flirtations here and there. And he seemed like the type for me. Despite not really looking for a relationship, and still being hurt from the previous breakup, I liked him. He was keen to explore my sexual interests that I thought no one would. So we started dating.
During this time I had just graduated from school. I was going to an alternative bar let’s call Brimstone. It was pretty dark, dingey, or what one would call “underground.” It was very popular with the alternatives like me: Goths, metalheads, and so on. I was going there every weekend with friends and had been going there since I turned 18. During this time I had become friends with one of the bartenders, let’s call him Dino. Dino was your typical “Don’t introduce to your parents” type. Long hair, covered in tattoos and piercings, very sarcastic and obnoxious. In fact, quite conceited.
At the time I thought he was cool, different and I liked that he didn't care what anyone thought of him. I admired his confidence. So we exchanged numbers and chatted every so often over text, and of course when I was at Brimstone. He would give me advice, and would tell me all the things that he has experiences and what qualities in people he disliked. I looked to him for advice, and because I admired his confidence, I looked to him for what I should do to experience those things. I have always been a very curious person. It has been both a gift and a curse.
So I continued to experiment sexually with Jay, whom I was dating. Yet I would confide in Dino for advice about these sexual acts I wanted to experiment with. As much as Jay and I were happy in the relationship, Dino would always tell me what he was supposedly doing wrong all the time. I believed him (and some of the time, he was right). After a time I began to believe that Jay and I were not completely compatible sexually, and that Dino was the experienced person I needed to explore all these sexual desires I had.
I broke things off with Jay. At this point, I had just started at college and had made new friends who happened to be mostly guys. Two of them took interest with me, and although they were good people, I did not emotionally connect with them in that way. However, I was now single, and in my eyes I was it as being able to do anything I wanted with others (which was true). Sexual tension began to build between some friends at college, yet I held off from doing anything because I didn't want to lead them on, knowing they had emotional interest.
At this point I had started sleeping with Dino. Now, Dino was no ordinary person who would take you home, and I certainly did not want him meeting my parents — besides the fact that he refused to meet any parents (red flag, much?). I didn't care at the time.
Now before I had broken up with Jay, but after I had decided on doing it, Dino wanted to meet up to hang out — away from Brimstone. And it had to be at night, by his preference. I had college and I didn't have my drivers licence so I couldn't just leave the house whenever I wanted to. So he used to park his car down the road from me next to the park at 1–2 in the morning, and I would sneak out, walk and meet him there. To me it was just harmless, rebellious fun. So we sat in his car, chatted and smoked cigarettes and he started to get pushy sexually. I was reluctant as I had not yet broken up with Jay, yet he pushed and he pushed. In hindsight I should have just walked home, but I didn't want to be called a prude, or boring. So I gave up on resisting and consented. We ended up having sex. I felt guilty about it for a long while, but Dino reassured me that I had planned on breaking up with Jay anyways.
Sneaking out and seeing Dino became a weekly thing during the week, and then I still saw him at Brimstone on Fridays. We would have sex in the car in the early hours of the morning. It was all consensual. But then he started to get possessive. We weren't dating, but we were what he called “fuck buddies,” and on his terms, that meant being exclusive to each other. We were not dating, and in my mind could still have sex with other men if I wanted to. I would just not tell him because I knew he would get angry. He had temper issues, you see.
He would tell me constantly how he hates liars, and I always agreed. He would tell me how he knew many of the powerful gangs in the city, and how many connections he had. In my eyes, he seemed invincible.
I had a small get together at my house a few weeks after I broke up with Jay. I still wanted to be friends with him, so I invited him on the condition that he would be okay. I didn’t want him getting emotional or upset if he saw me flirting with other guys, but he decided to come anyways. Two of my college guy friends were there, the two that I knew had an interest in me. Let’s call them Robin and Ben. Robin was more introverted type, while Ben was more extroverted and party-loving. Later in the night Ben and I slept together, and Robin walked in a short while afterwards while we were naked in bed. We both knew Robin liked me and even though I felt a bit bad, I knew it wasn't my problem. It was my party and my body, and I could do what I wanted. Somehow, Jay found out from Robin and stormed in the room. He was very upset. So my evening ended up turning into a drama party.
I didn’t plan on telling Dino that I slept with Ben. I knew he would get upset and angry with me if I did and I didn’t want more drama, not to mention the fact that I had promised him I wouldn't sleep with anyone else (I did mean it at the time… however I wasn’t prepared to commit. And I wasn’t in a relationship with the guy, but I felt like it was too late to turn back). So when I saw Dino again, I told him about the party. I just left out the part where I slept with Ben. Although he suspected, and managed to get me to admit I only did foreplay with him (...the half truth.) So he caught me out lying to him, which he made fun of me for. I laughed it off and told him I felt bad. It seemed okay.
A couple of months passed and I went out with one of my college guy friends. His band was playing that night and throughout the night I had a bit to drink. At this point my friend Robin had a lot of sexual tension built up. He took me back to his place and we had sex. I was pretty drunk, but nevertheless okay with it. I just knew not to tell Dino. I didn't want to betray him in his eyes, and I already felt like I was treading on thin ice with him after he caught me out lying to him about Ben.
When I saw Dino again, he didn’t suspect. It was okay, and I became more relaxed about keeping that secret. That was a mistake. The next time I snuck out to see Dino was the last time. “But that’s a good thing,” you must be thinking. Dino was not a good influence. He was manipulating me too see him, and to agree to be exclusive to him. He manipulated me into thinking he was always right. So when I did him wrong, I always felt very guilty. At this point I had managed to conceal the fact that I had sex with both Ben and Robin. When I snuck out again to see Dino I decided I wanted this to be my last time. I didn’t want the stress of having to conceal things, and I decided I didn’t want this anymore. I didn’t want to have to sneak out anymore, either. So I walked to the park where his car was parked, with confidence. As I walked, I kept saying to myself, “One last time.”
I got there and it seemed fine. I told him I wanted to stop being “fuck buddies” with him and that I wanted to abstain. Which was true. He agreed with reluctance and convinced me to have sex with him one last time. Keep in mind, when we had sex it was rough. He would slap me, and say bad things. I was okay with it. He never actually hurt me. This time was different. We started having sex, in his car like usual. Yet this time he started slapping me harder (in the face, I might add). And when I say harder, I mean he slapped me so hard on the side of my face my helix stud in my ear, which was pretty firmly attached, was knocked out. I decided I wanted to turn around to dog-style to avoid that so I did. We continued like that for a while until he leaned forward and said in my ear, “I want to fuck you in the arse.” I wasn’t prepared to do anal and I didn’t want it. I knew this was our last time having sex and I honestly just wanted it to be over with. Not to mention the fact that I hadn’t done anal in years. I wasn’t too into it. So I said no.
He pulled out and I thought he wanted to change positions or something, I wasn’t sure, so I stayed like I was, sort of recovering. Now keep in mind, I was leaning on the back of my seat (facing towards the back) with the back of the seat pushed right forward, Next to me was the car body and the other side was where the gear stick was. There wasn’t much room for me to move. Then hes behind me again, rubbing himself on my vagina. I was thinking he was just going to continue with sex. But instead, he moved himself over my anus and before I could even say anything he just rammed himself into me and jack-hammered me anally. Any of you who have experience with anal will know that this would hurt. A lot. I cried that it hurt and tried to sort of wiggle away, but there wasn’t much space to go. He replied, “ I want it to hurt,” and continued relentlessly, holding me close and choking me, hitting me, you name it. I stopped struggling because there wasn’t much for me to do and just waited it out. It felt like forever. And finally, he finished inside of me. I took tissues out and cleaned up. At this point I didn’t want to talk. I had a cigarette. It calmed me. He seemed so nonchalant. I hadn’t processed that I had basically just been raped. I was just glad it was over. We spoke for a bit. And he brought up the time when he caught me out lying to him and was jeering at me, saying I had probably had sex with him. I laughed because I was so incredulous at the fact that he hadn’t let that go yet. He took my laughing as a way to conceal something. He never trusted me. He asked, “So you did have sex?” and I laughed and said, “What?… No.”
I was so incredulous that he was doing this now. And then he continued saying “You did!”
And then he got angry. I tried to convince him I didn’t but he insisted. He told me he was glad we won’t have sex anymore, because I’m just a lying whore. He said I won’t ever find anyone who will want to be with me because he will tell everyone I am a cheap whore who isn’t good at anything except fucking. He said I’m not good for anything except that. He also said that he will get his “connections” to find me and gang rape me because that is all I deserve. And that there was no escaping it. I was, of course crying at this point. I believed every single word he said. I really believed him. He said, “Don’t try that crying act with me. It won’t work. I don’t care about cheap sluts like you. Don’t touch me again.” He went back into his car and drove away.
Walking back to the house all I felt was ashamed. My body hurt but all I could think of was how I deserved it. This was all my fault, I thought. I deserve this.
Sneaking back in my room I stayed awake for a bit. I felt no reason to live any longer. I thought about just ending my life as it was ruined. I ruined it all. But I honestly felt that I didn’t even deserve the attention my dead whore body would get if I killed myself. I felt like what I deserved, was to live with this pain and emptiness for my entire life until I die. I deserved to be abused, slurred at, anything.
I had college the next day. I went, but I didn’t pay attention. I just laid on my arms the whole day not caring about anything. Robin, who sat next to me kept asking if I was okay. I said I was fine. I didn’t deserve people caring about me. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about what happened. None of my friends even knew I was seeing Dino, anyways. I decided to never tell anyone. I felt like a walking ghost. I felt like I was dead inside. I stopped talking to anyone. When people asked what’s going on I told them not to worry about it, and that they don’t want to be involved. When I drove I didn’t wear a seatbelt. I hardly checked for cars when crossing streets. I just slept. I was being robotic. I just did things with no spirit. I was not me anymore.
Luckily, two friends persisted with me. They persisted on knowing what was wrong with me. It took quite a while, but I ended up telling both of them. Honestly to this day, if it weren’t for their support, I don’t think I would have been alive today. I will be forever grateful for them for that. They helped me find my true self again. Even though I’m not friends with one of them, I will never forget. As for the other, well, I am dating the other friend. And we have been dating for 20 months now, and going strong. In fact, I have never been happier and it’s only been just over 2 years since that last encounter with Dino.
So for those who have been through a similar thing. I want to personally just let you know what your past does not define you. The amount of people you have sex with does not define you. It does not make you a slut. If you have been sexually assaulted or raped, it is not your fault. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing or whether you previously consented or not. When someone does anything sexual with you without your consent, it is sexual assault and is not your fault. Also know, that you can find yourself again. You are not alone, and you can be who you want to be. In fact, the person you can become is better that the person you were before. Improved. More wise, and strong. And you have the full potential to be.
Never define yourself as what others say you are. You can be loved. You can be trusted, you are already amazing.
Stay strong,
Ash