I was raped 3 weeks ago. I’m having a hard time going on about life as if it never happened, and frankly I’m tired of acting like I’m emotionally okay when I’m clearly not.
I’ve been having very controversial thoughts about my rape, simply based on my past history with men. See, I seem to seek out those who aren’t good to me. Men who refused to respect my boundaries, who seemed to think my body was theirs instead of my own. Men who think “wait” means keep going, men who think “take it slow” means go full speed. It only just hit me that I’ve dealt with men like this and I came to the conclusion that it was only a matter of time before this happened to me. It was only a matter of time before I was raped because I had it coming for not loving myself enough to see how detrimental relationships with men like that could be to me.
I blame myself. And no, it’s not because I’m in the “acute” stage of post-rape syndrome or whatever the hell they’re calling it. I blame myself because I chose these men to be a part of my life. I chose to get close enough to my rapist to allow him access to me. The first thing we’re told as rape victims is “it’s not your fault.” I wonder how many of us struggle because we know, deep down, that it is, in fact, our fault. That’s what’s been eating at me, that’s what brings on tears and sleepless nights. I could have chosen to stay home that night like I’d originally planned. I literally had the thought “what if he rapes me?” then laughed & brushed it aside, thinking “that could never happen to me.” So I put myself out there. I allowed myself to be taken to his place. I allowed myself to drink the mixed drink he concocted with who knows what inside. I chose to fall asleep during the movie. I had a choice in all of this, from beginning to end, and ultimately my choices led to the most traumatic thing I’ve had to deal with to date.
So miss me with all the “it’s not your fault, it’s his fault” banter. Yes, he’s an asshole because he chose to ignore my basic human right, my cries and pleas to stop. He forced my hand away and took my power in those moments, took away the naive trusting little girl I used to be. He enjoyed himself at my expense while I dissociated, thinking how much I hate men. He corrupted my view of sex as a pleasurable activity. But at the end of the day, truth of the matter is all of it happened because of me. And I own that fact. And I know it’s something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life but maybe this was meant to happen so I could start making wiser choices with the thoughts of what consequences they may hold in the long run.
How many rape victims know my sentiments to be true? If you hadn’t worn that outfit, drank too many drinks, gotten too friendly, whatever it is that is unique to your situation. Some of us need to own up to our actions that played a part and led up to our rape. It’s time to stop solely placing the blame on the rapist when we both know you’re at fault too.

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