I was never raped but when I was 16 and Christmas shopping, a man put his hand in my crotch in a crowded department store. I turn and ran away and then thought, “Oh, it must’ve been an accident. Surely, I’ve overreacted and he will apologize.” I turned and walked back to say something and allow him to apologize and he did it again. I felt like a fool. I told no one about it for nearly 30 years.
I was never raped but after my knee surgery, I was home alone in a hot, not-air-conditioned house and someone knocked at the door. I got up on my crutches and made my way to the door, and my neighbor was standing there, puffing on a cigarette. “Are my kids here?” I said, “No, no one’s home but me.” He looked at me in my shorts (because I had one leg in a cast and couldn’t wear anything else) and t-shirt and smirked and said, “You look wild.” I was 17 and I was really creeped out. I mumbled something about them coming home soon and he went away.
I was never raped but at a high school class picnic, a bunch of boys I knew well and considered friends picked me up and one shoved ice cubes into my vagina. I was crying out from the cold and the humiliation of it, but people thought that I was enjoying it and no one came to help me. I felt like I must have asked for it, because I was a big flirt and talked a good game (although I was a virgin).