My First Blow Job was Rape — Why Didn’t I Know?

I stayed with a master manipulator for years

No matter how much I think I’ve moved on, the mistakes I made as a teenager still come back to haunt me from time to time. We all have memory ghosts. Those images, thoughts, and feelings that slip into our minds at any given moment, sneaky in their quiet approach, flashing behind our eyes without warning.

One minute I’m giving a blow job to my partner, completely turned on as he takes charge and dominates me with his forcefulness.

The next minute he’s coming into my mouth, and the memory of my first blow job pops into my head through no control of my own. That little devil is locked away deep, but it’s still as vivid as ever whenever it flashes to the surface.

When I was 18, I experienced what I thought was Falling in Love for the first time. I was convinced I’d found my soulmate — the man I would marry someday. My physical and mental connection with Adam was the most intense thing I’d ever experienced. At that age, I’d been dating for a whopping two years. A worldly-wise teenager that I was, I just knew I’d never experience a connection like that with any other man ever again.

When blood-red flags started popping up everywhere, Adam and I argued our way through them. I thought it meant I…