A week ago, he learned what he truly means to be dating a rape victim.

Note: I know the author of the words you are about to read. With her permission, I’m posting them, which she wrote in a different forum. She gave me permission to identify her by name; I’m choosing not to do that. I admire this young woman a lot; she’s a friend to both my wife and me. 

A week ago to date, I had sex for the first time with my new boyfriend. A week ago, he learned what he truly means to be dating a rape victim. I would give anything for him to not have learned that in the way that he did.

While making out, I enjoy feeling his hand on my throat. It isn’t choking, it is just the presence of his hand there. There was nothing to say that I wouldn’t enjoy it during sex, and I did enjoy it. That is, I enjoyed it until there was a slight change in pressure and millisecond of pain. That millisecond of pain sent me back to the years of sexual torture I endured at the hands of my ex. I grabbed his hand and pulled it off of my neck, which was extremely easy since he didn’t fight me at all and moved with me. I tried to stay calm, but he wasn’t getting out of me fast and enough, so I ended up kicking him off of me with my legs. I closed my legs tightly and covered my face. Telling myself that this wasn’t AJ, that the person naked in bed with me was not going to hurt me. I could hear him asking me what was wrong and what happened, but all I could think about was when I was choked to the point of almost blacking out. I started having a panic attack as more memories came flooding back into my head. Then, I had a mental breakdown about the fact that I was having a panic attack. The first time having sex with a boy I really like, and I have a panic attack.

I ended up curling up on my side and crying. He laid down next to me and watched me, wishing he could do something but knowing that he couldn’t. Eventually, I started speaking: a list of things I wish I didn’t know. I wish I didn’t know what it’s like to be a rape victim. I wish I didn’t know what feeling choked until you black out feels like. I wish I didn’t know what it feels like to be run train on. I wish I didn’t know what a belt feels like against my back. I wish I didn’t know what it feels like to feel my body pinned down against my will. I wish I didn’t know what my body betraying me feels like. The list just went on and on. I was probably listing things that I wish I didn’t know for a few minutes. Then, when I was done listing things that I wish I didn’t know, I said, “I wish I was back with my team.”

You see, I moved halfway across the country two weeks ago. I left my team behind. I was talking to this guy for two months before the move just so that I knew somebody besides my dad when I got to where I moved to. Just being in proximity to my team reminds me of how loved I am. The only pictures I have around my room are the pictures of my team. When I’m upset, my team grounds me. I was lying naked in bed with a guy I really like and all I could think about was how much I miss my team. That, and how I destroyed something that should have had an amazing ending.

I felt my victimhood a lot last week because of that. I’m gradually finding my survivor status again, but it takes some time to rebuild after it has been torn apart. Don’t lose hope when you feel your victimhood, keep fighting until you find your survivor status again.

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