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Bad Date

Date rape is ugly. It makes me wonder how to better protect myself.
My apparently sweet boyfriend of 5 months once said he hated rapists and would injure or kill anyone who committed rape.
Then we went camping in a remote area, 26 miles off the main road. I love camping under the stars. We’d been camping before. He said he was excited to share this spot with me because it was so isolated and tranquil that we could stargaze.
He’d bought a 6 pack of beer and offered me some, but I don’t drink. I have epilepsy. He knows that. I prefer music as pleasure. He drank all 6, which was unusual, and then surprised me by opening the cooler where I thought our dinner would be, and brought out more beer.
He said he was looking forward to really drinking tonight and to trying some new “med-ible” weed cookies. I asked how we’d go hiking up the ridge to star gaze? I said I’d love him to sing to me. He has a pleasant voice and plays guitar. He laughed and drank more. At first he was goofy and happy watching the campfire’s shadows dance on the trees. He made up funny songs. One was so funny, I laughed harder than I’ve ever laughed.
We didn’t hike up the ridge but went to bed in the tent and had sex once. Altho it was unpleasant being with a drunk, I agreed to it. I thought he’d fall asleep. I pegged this as a bad date. I sang him a little lullaby, as he enjoys that and we both fell asleep.
He woke me with profanity and violent sex, controlling me by coiling my hair in his fist and dragging then pinning my head to the ground. I told him “Stop!” and called his name. We’d no history of “rough sex” and I didn’t want it. He became more violent.
The pattern of assault, rape and him napping on top of me with my hair coiled within his fist continued until morning, when he rolled off me to pee.
I left the tent, he went back in. I walked down the hillside to the lake and bathed.
I was missing chunks of my hair and bruised all over my body.
I swam to the other side of the lake and began walking along the dirt road towards the main road. I didn’t have my purse or phone.
No vehicles came by, but I hoped for one, especially a Ranger.
In the afternoon, my boyfriend drove by. I was on a rock embankment.
He stopped and opened the truck door, he was sober and upset that I’d left. I said I want to go home, he agreed. I got in, he put on music and drove me home. I was silent the 3 hour trip. When I got home, I told him that what he’d done ended us. He said he didn’t remember doing it. Maybe he is telling the truth, maybe not. My doctor told me that all rapists fantasize about power and control over their victim, it’s not sex. It’s a disease of the mind that the alcohol and drugs freed.
Rape kits in my country are often unprocessed for years, then disposed of. My best interest seemed to be in silent recovery. I didn’t tell anyone. Including girlfriends because I felt ashamed.
I didn’t see him again.
I don’t ever go to remote locations now.
I haven’t dated in the year since.
Thank you for your story. You show that it is possible to date, marry and have a family. I’m just not there yet.

1 comment

  • Alissa Ackerman

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