In 1971, I was a 19 year old college sophomore. I had been dating my boyfriend for about 4 months. He was only the second person with whom I had ever had sex. One night, he had a party at his apartment. He had invited his older brother, who was there alone. They were not twins, but had a very strong resemblance. After several hours of partying, I decided to go upstairs to bed. I undressed and got into bed. Awhile later, I awoke to someone on top of me having sex with me. I assumed it was my boyfriend and when I looked up, I still thought so because of their resemblance and the darkness of the room. Only after looking over his shoulder at the figure standing in the doorway did I realize that the person in the bed with me was the brother. My boyfriend just stood there. I don’t remember anything after that until the next morning. When I woke up, the place was completely quiet and I was alone. I had to call a girlfriend to come and get me and drive me back to my dorm. I never heard from my boyfriend again and I never told anyone what happened. I felt so guilty about what I thought I had done. I carried that guilt around for 42 years. About 2 years ago, when rape became a topic openly discussed by the media, it began to occur to me that maybe what happened to me was rape. I realized what happened had probably been planned by my boyfriend and his brother as a way for him to break up with me. What a coward! I have become very angry since then because I know it has shaped the way I have lived my life. It has become difficult for me to stop thinking about it, which is why I am so glad to have a found a place to share my story. I am 63 years old and I want to tell all the young women out there that have been raped, IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!