Trigger Warning: sexual assault
The only good thing about it was that it was over quickly.
It was Valentine’s Day and out theater group was performing in the dining hall. The performance was excellent. We were all in top form. The audience understood all of the jokes and the nuances. There was applause at just the right time. When it was over, the twelve of us went up to my dorm room to celebrate. Someone had beer. I put on an album…not sure but I vaguely remember that it was something by Santana. They didn’t stay long. Within the hour everyone had left, except him. He looked through my albums and asked if he could play a different one. When he walked to the closet where the stereo was kept, he shut the door which led to the hallway. I didn’t think anything of it because you sort of had to if you wanted to open the closet doors completely.
The music played and he took my hand and started to dance with me. That was fine. But soon…too soon…he had grabbed both of my arms behind my back and he was pushing me down on my bed. I shook my head and said no. He smiled and covered my protests with his mouth. He said I should not be scared. But I was. I didn’t want this. I didn’t know him except from our weekly class meetings. I tried to push him off of me but he was too big; too heavy. I tried to wiggle out from under him but I couldn’t. My hands were pinned under me; they hurt; they were twisted. His left had covered my mouth and I could not breathe. His right hand ripped at my white dress then at my underwear. I shouted and I shook my head but his mouth silenced my shouting. He was too big for me to fight off. Then there was more pain. My wrists. My chest as I tried to breathe. My head had banged against the metal bed frame. My legs were twisted. With the pain came the damp between my legs and from my eyes. He got off of me; fixed his clothes and left. He smiled at me as he was left. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t speak. I felt broken. I felt like I was dead. I felt like I didn’t matter. I felt like what I wanted was of no consequence.
The only good thing about it was that it was over quickly. Only the memories have lasted. I have squelched them but they seem to be coming more and more frequently now. I think some secrets have to be exposed. Maybe then the memories will stop.
You are so strong to share this story – thank you for sharing this secret — I hope it does help.
*Hugs*
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There are layers and layers of secrets. Really old ones. The fact that they are old secrets doesn’t make it any easier to let them go; it makes it harder. But I’ve come to the conclusion that I have to start protecting Me, even if it hurts others. The layers have to be peeled back.
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Reblogged this on Rose B Fischer.
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I am so sorry this happened to you. I hope sharing the story helps you!
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Thank you, Rose.
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I can’t conceive of the amount of strength it took for you to share this. It’s a secret too many women have lived, but you coming forward with your story will help someone today. I believe in that with my whole heart and soul.
Hopefully, it also helps you to heal a little bit.
Sending love and hugs.
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Thank you, Robin. I’m hoping it helps too.
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I can’t hit the “Like” button on this, although I do like, appreciate, and admire your bravery. I’m so sorry this happened to you, and hope that by sharing it healing comes. I’ve had memories surfacing, too, and have been debating what to share, how much, etc.
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It’s tough deciding what to share and where and how. I always tell people to “write it out” but I hadn’t taken my own advice on this. It’s tough but these things have to be let out of our souls, otherwise they will always be there; always hurt us; never heal.
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You are a very brave lady to share this and I really hope and pray sharing this horror will bring some healing. I’m so sorry this happened to you. xxx
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Thank you, Eloise. I have high hopes that it will help.
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Oh, Corina, I am so sorry this happened to you! You are a brave soul to release it. Many hugs!!
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I’m very sorry this happened to you. I hope posting it does help you to heal from it.
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Thank you, Trent. It seems that lately I am being swamped with all the things people told me not to say anything about…the things I was supposed to forget.
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❤ I'm so sorry this happened to you. Thank you for being brave enough to write it. I think sometimes we do have to tell our stories, to ourselves and to other people, as a way of healing–and as an act of defiance, too.
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It has taken a long, long time to tell this story. I never wanted my kids to know. In fact, when my son asked why I wanted a copy of Against Our Will, I said I was just interested in the stories of rape survivors. Then when I signed up as a Rape Crisis Counselor, again he asked. I said it was something I did because if something like that ever happened to one of my daughters, I would want someone to be there for them so I would be there for others. But it was really for me. They don’t read this blog so they won’t know. Which is probably good. Thank you, Diana.
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I can imagine it must be very difficult to approach a subject like that with your children. I’m glad you were willing to share with us, though.
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I applaud you for sharing your story, Corina… and I am sorry this happened to you. I am a rape survivor too, and I know how hard it is to tell your story, even years later.
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Thank you, Lori. It’s a tough thing. Even now, after posting this, I am second guessing myself. But I think the time for these secrets to be revealed is now. Last week I posted one secret. Then this one. And there are more, unfortunately. It makes me wonder if I had a big sign on my back saying “Hurt me. Abuse me.”
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My pleasure, Corina 🙂 Keep sharing. It is very therapeutic and you will discover that there are a lot of us out there with similar stories. I sometimes wonder if I had the same sign on my back *gentle hugs*
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I’ve read a few blogs where the blogger kind of hints at rape or sexual assault of some kind but doesn’t say it or make it obvious. I wonder if they want people to guess or to ignore it. If I know the blogger, I send a message/email but if I don’t, I don’t want to bring it up in case I am wrong or in case they don’t want to make it public yet. I always wonder and say a little prayer for them.
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Yeah, I’ve read some bloggers that do that too… it always makes me wonder if they are just waiting for someone to ask the right questions…
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