My rape, and how it changed me for the better

For some reason I am feeling compelled to write about something I don't even talk about much. It is something that caused a lot of pain in my life. It changed who I was. But it also brought many unexpected blessings into my life. How can I ever want to go back and change what happened when I see what I learned from it. I will apologize now for any grammar or spelling errors. As this is a very touchy subject for me, I do not know if I will be able to go back and proof read it. So here it is.

I met S at an Institute Dance. We hit it off very well, and when he asked for my number I gave it. I knew how guys were though, so I really didn't expect him to call. Especially since when I gave him my number, he didn't have a way to write it down. But he did call. That was the start of our relationship.

We went out a few times before we decided that it was serious. We started seeing each other every day. Things progressively became more serious. I was really happy. Then a few days before Thanksgiving break things changed. I started to feel as if S was pushing me to something. Something I wasn't ready for. He would brush my fears aside so easily. He would calm me down and say It's ok. Don't worry. And so on. But i kept telling him no. Before I really knew what was happening, My clothes were gone. The next thing I knew It was over. And I was crying. He didn't have to use force. He used something worse. He made me fall in love with him, made me trust him. And then he broke that trust. True it wasn't violent, that time. But it was devastating to me. I may not have kicked and scratched, but I was scared to. I didn't yell, because who would believe me. I mean I was dating him. Several people could say they knew that I wasn't the purest girl on the block

To understand this more fully, I have to delve a bit deeper and reveal a bit more. I grew up in a household where a woman did what she was told. I was taught through my Mother's actions, and her words, that You do NOT say no to a man. No one ever told me that it was ok to say no. That I don't have to go through with things I don't want to. That I had the right to fight for myself. I don't blame my Mother though, Honestly. She was as much a victim as I was. My dad, eve though I love him, is a very controlling man. He likes to be in charge of things. I was convinced that a woman/girl was inferior to a man. That the man ruled the roost and a woman should do everything in her power to not ruffle his feathers. I don't blame my dad for that either. That is just how it was. Yet it had a huge impact on my life

When you add that to the fact that I was the victim of Sexual abuse by a person close to me when I was a young child, you get a girl who is very aware that the physical expressions of love are how a man say he loves them, or at least that was what I thought. I thought that in order for a man to know I cared about him, I had to show him. Needless to say I wasn't the purest girl around. But I never had sex. I would kiss, yes. I Loved Kissing. It was fun. But I didn't do much more than that.

Yet people saw me kiss. They saw me kissing a lot. So they just assumed that I would do more. So, when S. raped me. I didn't think anyone would believe me, even if I told them. So I never told them. But it stop there.

As I was leaving his house that night, S told me over and over how sorry he was. That I had had that (my virginity) for 18 years and he had just taken it from me. He managed to say things like that over and over, until I ended up telling him that it was ok. That It was bound to happen. All the while the tears where flowing down my face.

As I drove home that night, I saw the lights of the Temple, and my heart sank. I figured there was no way I would ever make it there. That I would never be worthy of that. I gave up.

To this day I still do not fully understand why I went back. I think it may have been that I knew that if I had sex, I should be married. I don't know really. But I did go back. Like I said he somehow managed to twist what had happened and made me comfort him. So I went back.

For a while S was great. He was really nice, and sweet, and if I so much as looked like I was pulling away from him, he stopped. But it didn't last long. Before to long, he was pushing me again. Only this time he didn't have to push very far because I figured I was damned anyway, so I might as well.

Things seemed to be going along pretty good. He started talking about getting married. I thought I was happy. He even paid for my plane ticket to meet his family in Canada. Things were going great. We had talked about waiting until we were married to have sex again. He agreed with that and that we needed to see the Bishop. I thought thing would be great. It lasted until we came back from Canada.

One day, when S was home sick from work, I went over there to see him. I thought I would take care of him, make him feel better, sit on the couch with him and snuggle. Except it didn't turn out that way. He took me back into his bedroom, and this time I was saying no and asking him to stop, please. Please, stop. please. But he didn't listen. And I felt hopeless, trapped, and devastated. He had done it again. And I was stupid enough to stay with him again.

It kept happening. He would say he was sorry, and I would shrug it off, all the while feeling like the worst piece of dirt there was ever made and crying on the inside. We were still talking about getting married. But things started to slowly change. He started acting distant. Kept pushing me away. And I, stupid fool that I was, kept trying to fix it.

Then it happened again. Only this time, he had distance himself enough that I could see he didn't really care for me. Looking back, i don't think he ever did, but this was the moment I finally started to open my eyes and see it. I realized what I was doing. I still don't know how, but I did. And I started trying to avoid him. Then I broke up with him and walked away. It was so hard for me. I mean, I figured that since we had sex, we would get married. I didn't want to meet someone else and tell them that I had sex with someone before. But I did it. I broke up with him.

Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I had to tell him. I didn't want to, but I had to. Also, I admit, I half hoped he would marry me. I didn't want to do this alone. But I did. He left. Told me he was going back home during this trying time so he could have the support of his family. WTH! That just made me mad. He needed support! I was the one that was pregnant! I was the one who had to put up with all of the comments. He didn't have to do anything. He didn't even have to let anyone know. I had no choice. It eventually becomes obvious when you are pregnant

Eventually, to shorten up an already long story. I had a beautiful baby girl. I kept her. She is mine. She changed my life. She forced me to become who I wanted to be. She made me strong. I have been so blessed to have her. She has taught me so much that I can honestly never say I wish I could change what happened. I learned that I am special. I am a daughter of God, and even though I made mistakes, there was nothing I did to deserve being raped. I also know that through the Atonement, I was made whole

It has taken years for me to be able to write this story. I have tried several times, yet not once have I ever completed it. And honestly I didn't complete it here. Even though It happened years ago, and I am a much stronger woman than I ever have been. it still haunts me. I have flashbacks. Sometimes, my wonderful Loving Husband, (who does know the whole story and did before he married me) will touch me and I will pull away. He just calms me down, reminds me who he is, and starts over. way over. When we were dating he didn't kiss me for 5 weeks. We didn't make out for 10 months. He helped me heal and helped me realize that all men are not just after sex.

I never saw S again. The only contact I had with him was sporadic child support payments. One I was married Hubby wanted to adopt her. so I contacted his parents (who were great. they would send gifts and come to see her, even though S never did see her) I never even saw S. I only know he was back here because he signed over his rights in front of a judge here. The same judge who granted the adoption making her officially Hubby's even though he has always thought of her as his. She even looks like him.

I don't know why I felt compelled to write this out. I only hope that it will help someone. Am I competely healed yet, no. But I am working on it. And it has made me a better person. Even if I am a bit less trusting.