I lost my virginity when I was fourteen. I was a freshman in high school. I lost my virginity to some guy I did not know. I would call him a some what stranger. All I knew about him was his name, his age, that he had a sister in my grade, and that he dated one of the girls in my choir class. I think I knew more about him than he knew about me. Anyways, we we were in the same geometry class second semester. My schedule changed my class hour and teacher. I was the shy freshman girl who sat up front, while he sat in the back with his buddies. I had speech practice the first day back at school. I was thinking about canceling last minute since I started my period and did not feel good. He texted me as soon as I got home from school. He messaged me through Facebook. He told me that we should hang after school. I was somewhat excited and nervous. I always thought it meant that could hang out, and maybe that would lead to dating in the future.
Of course I said yes to hanging out with him. He said he would pick me up from school after speech practice. I had to make up some bullshit story to my mother about going out. I didn’t have any friends with cars or anything. We decided to drive around. I remember there was a lot of snow on the ground. He had to be careful because there was still a lot of ice on the roads. We had to stop at Aldi’s to pick up cabbage. While we were driving around his mom called and told him to pick up a cabbage. Aldi’s didn’t carry any cabbage, so we decided to head to Walmart. Walmart was a risky move. We did not want to be caught together. We walked around Walmart a little bit, and he saw a few of his buddies and one of the PE teachers there. I ducked and stayed behind him. By the time we finished in Walmart, it was getting dark outside. We sat in his car. He tried kissing me in the parking lot. I kissed him at first, but I pulled back quickly. He immediately went back in after I backed away. He started running his hands across my thighs, inching closer and closer between my legs. I tried to gently push his hand away, but he retracted, then put it back in the same place as it was before. After doing this a few times he finally got the message. I slumped back in my seat, and the car ride to my house was silent, apart from me giving him directions.
I told him he could come over to my house on sunday since my parents were not going to be home. I thought we could watch a movie and order a pizza. He agreed. I was very excited. Little did I know he did not want to watch netflix and eat pizza with me.
It was sunday, and I was excited but nervous. I messaged him on Facebook when my parents left for Chicago. They were off to see the Blackhawks play hockey. Before they left, my dad’s friend came over. He was our neighbor. He wanted to use our garage to fix his truck, My dad of course said yes. I forgot he was even here.
He came over around one maybe. I couldn’t get Netflix up and running on the tv in my room, so I told him we could squeeze onto my bed and watch it on my tv. He agreed. He picked the movie we would end up not watching. It was Turbo. He took up most of the room on my twin bed. I laid next to him, cuddling. His hand wandered a lot. I just looked at him. My eyes were wide open when he leaned down and tried to kiss me. I just turned my head and dodged him. He went in again, but this time holding my head to stabilize it. I tried dodging again and I moved my neck to the side. I got up out of bed and he looked at me angrily. In that moment I thought I was going to throw up. I contemplated everything going on. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt disgusted. I told him I had to pee (which was a lie) and locked myself in the bathroom. I had to do breathing excercises to keep myself from hyperventilating. I told myself he couldn’t see me cry. I put on my big girl panties and walked back to my room. I hoped back into bed.
I tried to start kissing for his sake. I did it even though I didn’t want to. One thing lead to another, and his hands started wandering. Every time I pushed away, he put them back in place, and had a firmer grip. Eventually my clothes came off, and he threw them on the floor, so I wouldn’t be able to get them. His hands wandered further down my belly. I was emotionless through it all. I thought what was the point of trying to scream or get away. He was a football player and wrestler. He could bench hundreds of pounds, and he could easily ruin me and my life. I stayed quiet.
I laid on my back quiet and still while he tried to put himself in me. I fought back tears. I gasped in pain when it happened. He was too focused on himself to notice me. The tears started welling up in my eyes when he started moving. I tried to push him off me, but he resisted. He kept going. I wanted to scream, but I was afraid. I whispered, “stop”, but he didn’t hear me. I zoned out. I was not trying to pay attention to him or the pain he was causing. I felt all of the innocence leaving my body. I felt lifeless. I felt like I couldn’t move.
I forgot our neighbor was over. He banged on the door. He yelled for me. I quickly put my shirt and pants back on. I had no time to put a bra on, otherwise he would suspect something. I was taking too long. I walked out and assisted him with his breaks. He didn’t seem to ask any questions about my appearence. I went back inside, and he went back home when he was finished.
I walked back into my bedroom. He was there sitting on my bed. I told him I was sorry and he got up and walked over to me. My clothes were stripped from my body and put himself back in me. He tried moving to a different position. I blantently said no. He didn’t care. I fought him, and I lost that fight. I almost knocked my head on my bedside table. He was being rough with me. At one point he even picked me up and did it. The tears were trying to escape from my eyes. I thought he would understand. I thought he got the message when I swatted his hand away and told him no.
He left after he finished. He wore a condom and placed it in my garbage can. He was getting ready to leave, and saw me standing infront of the mirror in my room. I could see him in the reflection. He looked at me in the eyes, through the mirror.
“You’re not going to tell anyone about this right?” he asked. I nodded. “Good” he said. I didn’t watch him walk out the door. I heard it close, and his engine started. I sat on the floor of my room and cried. I cried until I made myself sick. I didn’t want to be alone. I called one of my old friends at the time. She came right over. We sat on the couch and talked a little bit about it. She helped me throw the quilt in the washer. I didn’t know how to laundry per say. She left after about an hour. I didn’t know whatto call it. I didn’t know what to do. All I knew is that I needed to tell someone what happened.
I decided to tell Mel. She was my ex neighbor. She was like a second mom to me. She unfortunately moved. My birthday was a week later, and I called her that night when my two friends were around. I told her I wanted to talk to her about adult things. She said okay, and told me she was free the next night. I had a speech meet the next day. It has been a week almost and I haven’t told my parents. We visited my friends that lived near the town the speech meet was at. On our way home I asked my mom if she could drop me off at Mel’s new house. My mom thought something sketchy was going on, but she obliged. I toured the new house. No one was home except for Mel. We sat in her daughters room and talked. She helped me figure things out. She mentioned the word rape. I didn’t think that was possible. I dont even like saying that.
She told me that I needed to tell my parents. She offered to come help me for moral support. She took me home. My parents were sitting together in the living room. My mom got all serious and started questioning me as soon as I stepped in the door. My anxiety went throuh the roof. Tears streamed down my face. I tried dodging her questions, but she wouldn’t give. I was gasping for air. I couldn’t breathe or think or do anything. I know i went into the kitchen a few times for air. I returned to the livingroom. My mom had this really angry look on her face. I didn’t know what came out of my mouth until I said it.
“______ raped me.” I said.
Her expression changed instantly. Her and my dad had tears in her eyes. She spoke in a soft tone from then on. She was all lovey and all over me. My dad took it hard. He got up and went and stayed in his bathroom. It was like ten at night and my mom went out and got Plan B from Walmart just to be safe. She had me get an STD test and pregnancy test. I opted out of a rape kit because it had been a week, and I thought there wouldn’t be any evidence left.
That trauma had a profound impact on me. I didn’t deal with it like normal people did. I had sex again about half a year later. I felt nothing. I had these random hook ups off and on from then until now. I just don’t know what I was thinking. All I knew is that I wanted to regain the power that I had lost. I tried to move on way before I was ready. I wanted to show myself that this event was not going to consume my life.It devestated me when we talked briefly about sexual assault in one of my classes. Someone said that victims never move on fast. They made a statement about how victims are always afraid. It seemed like I was the only one who tried to get over it quickly.
Since I tried to mask the pain by sleeping with random people and not telling anyone, I thought my feelings were not validated. I slept around and people talked about me. It seemed like everone at school knew about my history. They never knew my side of the story.
A year later I found out I sat at the lunch table with one of his best friends. He told me that he had talked about me to him. The best friend told me that _______ said I cried during it. I hid in the bathroom after that.
I stopped telling people and opening up about it, because of the reponsese I got.
“You’re making up the story for attention. It didn’t really want it.”
“I know you secrely wanted to do it.”
“You’re a little slut aren’t you.”
“Why did you sleep with him.”
“Why didn’t you say no more.”
“If I were you I would just push him off.”
“It’s not rape.”
“You were asking for it when you invited him over”
I felt dirty and disgusting. I felt like my pain was never validated. I thought it didn’t count since I didn’t try harder, since I wasn’t attacked, since I brought him into my house… I always felt like it was all my fault. It is true when people say it is not the victim’s fault at all. I should have never thought it was my fault.
I still continue to lead a sex life. A lot of times I will get flashbacks while doing it. I either zone out or start crying. It’s something that I am working on. My rapist is still apart of me, whether I want him to be or not. I can’t get rid of him. I can’t get the images out of my head. I can still hear myself screaming after he left. I can picture myself pushing his hands away, but they snapped back into place. I will lay there still and emotionless.
To this day my current best friend does not know this… only a handful of people. I decided not to tell anyone else after the responses I got. I guess I decided that I need to share my story. I guess it is a way in which you can understand me a little more.
It’s a little nerve wracking sharing such a private thing on a public platform. I want to share my story to let others know that they are not alone.
So this is my best kept secret….. I was raped when I was 14.