The first time I was raped was my first time… PART 1
I was raped the first time on July 12, 2005
So… I came out with the truth. The scary shit I have been holding back. But it has all come to surface. I was raped when I lost my virginity. He was a very close friend. Headed towards being more. But he was not a nice guy. We will call him J.
J was funny and he was suddenly single so I took the opportunity to tell him I really liked him. Like so much. I was 23 when it happened. We began seeing each other while I was still 22. I fell in love him so fast and so hard. And since I was in my 20’s I was so ready to explore his body and him explore mine. I was so naive though.
He had already gotten to know my body on a previous night. I got my first kiss. He was a passionate kisser. Not a great kisser. But I loved him so I accepted that I was not ever going to have amazing kisses. I was naked before too long. He kissed my nipples. And soon, he went down on me. He had a tongue ring and I liked that.
I touched him too. He had these ugly colored yellow boxers. They were the color of mustard. I thought to myself, who would buy ugly underwear. It was bad enough he wore boxers.
He spent the time we dated cheating on me. He would refuse to answer his phone and then show up hours late…. If he showed up at all. I did everything I could to make him happy. I paid for things. I bought him stuff. I let him lay in my lap while I played with his hair till he fell asleep.
I showered every day. He hated stubble on a girls legs so I shaved every day and on days he was coming over I shaved a second time right before he was supposed to arrive. I shaved my lady bits smooth cause he didn’t like the bush I had….. yeah yeah I know… a bush, how gross. Yes, I know that now. But back then I didn’t and no one had ever been interested in me so why should I care about my bush when no one would ever see it. I thought being over weight would keep me a virgin for the rest of my life.
I guess the fact that J was fat too, he didn’t care that I was. J was so insecure. You would think that him being insecure about his intimate body parts would make him be kind to my insecurities which were plenty. But he really wasn’t. Compliments were not really a part of his vocabulary. He constantly called me by his ex’s names. Even his friends thought that was awful.
When I had my 23rd bday he came. Which I was shocked. He was not there long at all. And he wouldn’t touch me. He would not hold my hand. He refused to be in a pic with me until my family made a big deal out of it. He was ok looking. Not really handsome. And he was fat. I guess all that kept him out of wanting to be in front of a camera. But it meant a lot to me.
One day he came over…hours late of course. I had lingerie on under my clothes and I did a strip for him. He loved it. We could not have sex because he refused to wear a condom and I had not gotten on birth control yet. I had an appointment, but this was a week before it. We lay naked in my bed kissing and touching. After a while he asked me if he could slide his dick between my pussy lips. I said yes, but we could not have sex until I got birth control. He was totally fine with that, he said. He did as he said he wanted to do for a minute or so and then without permission he rammed his cock inside me. I trusted him. I could not believe he had done that. And he just laughed at me.
It took him a minute to get me back in the mood but he got me kissing him again and touching. I used my hand to get him off. He came all over me. I remember feeling so gross and dirty as it poured across my hip and slid down onto my stomach. I still think to this day that you should ask if that is ok and I am 35. After a while, his lack of commitment took it’s toll on me. He was always with other women when he was supposed to be with me.
We dated like that for about six months. We did have sex, only twice. Sadly after he raped me, shoved his cock in me that hard, with me begging him to stop. I did not end it with him. I was stupid. I thought he was the only man that would ever want me. So I did sadly stay with him. And I got on the depo shot. So I did want sex. It’s sad, I know but I wanted it with him. I loved him.
My lack of self esteem did not allow me to see that I deserved so much better than J. When we had sex the first time consented, he fucked me hard and rammed my head in to the wall with every thrust. Immediately after he came he got dressed and made me get up right then and get dressed and insisted we leave.
It felt like we had done something wrong. Something dirty. Like we had to leave the scene of a crime. I hated that. I wanted to be held. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do anything for me to feel good. We had sex one other time and once again he did not look at me. And he made my hit my head again.
Shortly after that, I told him I wanted a commitment. And I wanted his ex’s to be out of his life. He refused so I ended it. Through a dating site, I found someone else. It did not turn in to a fairy tale. We did not live happily ever after.
We had a couple of good years together and the other three were a downward spiral of awful fights and constant anger that got worse with each fight. He turned out to be a piece of shit. He treated my mom like dirt even though she did everything for him. Paid his bills when he spent all his money on stupid fucking video games. Which was often. She kept our lights on in our place. She was a saint. She did all his half of the chores. He lost jobs constantly. He quit jobs constantly as soon as he didn’t like one of the other employees. I was working twelve hour shifts for a while, while he sat on his ass playing video games. He didn’t help with house work at all. I have had horrible taste in me in my past. I let them all hurt me, physically and emotionally. He grabbed me by the arm so hard during a fight that he left an entire hand print. That bruise lasted over a month. It was just barely faded enough on our wedding day so that it did not show up in pictures. I should have hit him back. I should have been furious.
But his dad had beaten his mom for years so my instincts told me to take care of him. To take the blame and comfort him. What was wrong with me? I should have slapped the shit out of him. Kicked him in the balls. Punched him in the face. But I’m a nice girl so I took it. And nothing changed after that. His temper was out of control all the time. He still refused to help with any house work and he still used our bill money to buy games. I wish I had never met him. He was a waste of years of my life. And now he has a lovely wonderful loving girlfriend that he cheats on over and over.
I believe this piece is plenty long. So I think I will go for now. But more to come on these men in my past. More on J. And there is also the sexual assault and the rape just about three years ago. And maybe you are wondering why I am writing this suddenly. I usually write sexy stories. Or funny stories.
Well PTSD hits you when you least expect it. All of this has suddenly hit me. I was even close to being hospitalized. I am cutting again after a year of not doing it. I have trouble with physical contact of any kind. I struggle to sleep. Scared I will have horrible nightmares about those men who did this to me. I am doing some better. Wish me luck. I have no one to talk to about all this. I feel so alone about it. I can not look at myself in the mirror at all right now.