The Rape

I haven't told the whole story of my rape for many years. Since people blamed me right after it happened, I felt that somewhere in my story is the part where people will know it was my fault. My friends blamed me, my parents didn't know what to do so, they didn't really talk about it and have never brought it up since, and the police told me that I didn't have a case since I actually regretted sex and was not raped. When I told people about it who didn't know me at the time it happened, they would say they wanted to find him and beat the shit out of him. I was the hurt one in front of them. He was the one living his life and acting as if nothing was wrong. 
 I also didn't want to admit that I was raped. I told people that I had known this guy for a year and sex just happened. I've been managing with a lot of feelings, including the ones I felt ashamed about-- like that I had a traumatic bond with him and I hoped he'd get better or want a relationship one day.
Today, in talking to my therapist, she pointed out that no one has blamed me in my adulthood for what happened. It's true but not one person in my life currently knows the whole story. Some know his side. Some know that it happened but don't know when or what. I feel a bit safer now in telling my story.
So, here goes.

I was thirteen years old. It was August 31, 1997. My dad was moving out to move into a house with his girlfriend and I went out for a walk. I had told my friend to meet me at the bowling alley at a certain time on this day. I walked around my neighborhood before I walked over to the bowling alley. I didn't see my friend at the bowling alley but a guy who worked there named Kirk came over to talk to me. We talked for a little bit. He brought up that he had a large dick because he was Italian. He touched my lips and said, "You'd fit." He asked me for a blow job and I told him no. He then went outside for a cigarette and I went out with him because I didn't have anything better to do. He pointed out to me where his car was. He asked me if I wanted to see it. I went along. It might have been cool and I eventually wanted to buy a "hippie" van. He opened up the back to show he had taken out the middle seat. I think he asked again if I'd give him a blow job and I said no. He said he was going to drive his van to the parking underneath the bowling alley. I got in the back of the van to drive there and was really nervous. He sat in the back seat with me. I think I put my mouth on his penis but I was really uninterested. He asked me if I wanted to have sex. I was scared to say no so I tried to make up the excuse that he didn't have condoms. He brought out the box of condoms. I thought it was really gross that he had that many condoms. He put one on but only unzipped his pants-- didn't take off any of his clothes. I was really nervous and disgusted. I really didn't want it but didn't know how to get out of the situation. He told me that he had to loosen me up so, he fingered me so that it wouldn't hurt to have sex. Even the fingering hurt though. I don't remember much of what happened next except that I had a bruise on my back and he asked me to go through a different door to go back inside the bowling alley.


I haven't seen it written out in a long time, if ever. It still seems like he was just a disgusting bastard who was manipulating a 13 year old girl to have sex. The story that it seemed my "friends" had for the situation was that I was this horny 13 year old girl who wanted sex no matter what and I just begged this guy to have sex. I didn't. I was making jokes the same as my older friends were. I feel like I was just a typical curious kid and that my curiosity and normal development was taken away by some older guy and then the craziness of everyone else convinced me I might be crazy too.

I don't know how many times I've repeated this same pattern of getting myself into a situation where I didn't want to have sex but didn't know how to get out of it. I am also trying to figure out healthy sexual attitudes because I don't know how to manage with a pout-y, mopey or angry man when I am simply not in the mood, which has been a majority of the case recently. I go to work, sometimes do something fun, and go home. Most of the time, I just want to read or write by myself.

In the blame I've had for myself in the last many years, I've blamed myself for the death of Princess Diana too. She might not have died if I wasn't getting raped.

I knew some girls from my high school who eventually worked at the bowling alley. I thought Kirk would try to take advantage. There's this weird part of me that wishes he wouldn't have but knowing him, he probably would have and they would have gone willingly to have sex with him. I wish he would have thought of me in some way and decided that he didn't want to have sex with these girls in particular.

The time I saw him after I asked him to leave my house, he told me that I shouldn't have been mad because he was only in town for a short time. I didn't care about any of that. He was flirting with some girls at my house and I wanted him to get the fuck out. How dare he feel like he had any reason to be there or any right! I remember trembling and trying not to because he was in my house. My brother wanted me to just get used to it. Kirk wanted to just let us be cool. I made him think that but I was never "cool" with him and was fearful and angry every time he came back or came to visit. I was glad the day that my brother was talking about seeing Kirk at a party, all dressed out to the max as someone from the 70's and that he was "gay." I thought that maybe Kirk said something or did something so that my brother was angry at him too--- like maybe for once someone was on my side.

It's really hard to keep it together as I've been working in The Rape Recovery Handbook. But I really enjoy the book. I'm listening to some very peaceful music and allowing myself to feel and to cry. I really need to forgive myself for a lot of things.
I like that the author made the connection to how similar it is to go to the dentist or gyno as it is to be raped. You really feel like you have no options and some man is going to do what he feels is necessary for you. I left a dentist one time because he had bad bedside manner and was trying to force a bite block in my mouth. It was too big for my mouth. He was so frustrated. And when I left, the car would die every time it stopped at a light so I was again, trapped. Luckily, it was not with a man. I have yet to go to the dentist regularly for cleanings and all. I have been thinking of going for the past three years. Maybe some day soon I'll find the dentist with a very gentle bedside manner so I will feel safe and comfortable.

I think that's all I can handle for now. I'll try to update more as I go through this book and start to clear out the wound that was given to me by someone else's sin/issue many years ago. I'm officially giving the sin back and he can take care of it.