So I came on here before and posted a story about the date rape I endured last June. And now the result of my rape us that I seem to be a target for every fucking asshole in the trip state area. Maybe it’s the piece of me that was stolen, maybe it was the tough fighter on me that disappeared idk but when I finally started dating again I met every kind of jerk you could imagine. Well none were quite as bad as George. When we finally met I had already been having my doubts about him & I’d started having feelings for someone else, a contracted marine in Iraq who I’d never actually met. But he told me not to put my life on hold for him. So I didn’t. I thought it would keep me from getting too excited so we had drinks & he barley talked. He was nervous & weird & skinny and I didn’t want to be there. I wanted my marine. So George insisted on driving me to my car, which was not far. He practically forced me in to his car. Saying it’ll be nice and warm when we get to your car. Well it didn’t take him long to say that I looked tired & I should lie down. He grabbed my seat & laid it down flat. He climbed on top of me and started kissing me & biting my neck, he was gross and I pushed him away buy he became all feverish and started pulling at my clothes & biting my neck harder. All I remember after that is seeing the moon between the buildings in the sky. I know eventually he stopped because I was crying.
Then he insisted he wasn’t an asshole & took me to my car. I had bruises all over my legs & I was foggy and couldn’t think clearly so I just went home. I couldn’t remember if something happened or not. 2 days later I had a UTI from hell & started peeing blood. I had to go to the ER & my marine walked me through the whole thing without flinching. He was amazing idk what I’d of done without him that day. As perfect as he was to me I still ended up sabotaging the relationship because I was terrified of sex. Even from thousands of miles away. And now I miss him so very badly it’s killing me.
About a week after we stopped talking or rather he stopped talking to me this creepy guy who works in the hotel upstairs from my work stalked me. He found out when I was working and forced his way into the office. He went through this whole psychological game trying to probe me for info on my sexual history he would demand answers even after I said no multiple times he would laugh at me & say but we’re friends you can tell me. I said no we are not friends I don’t need any friends leave me alone & I was terrified. I lied & told him about the marine, I said he was basically a hired mercenary and he has lots of guns so he better not mess with me. He just kept laughing like it was all a game. He had told me first about his entire sexual history, it was so disturbing. Then towards the end he started talking about jerking off and why men do that and how my marine was cheating on me. He even made the hand gestures, right in front of the camera.
Though there was no sound there was that. Which I hope the cops will use to persecute him. He us dangerous very dangerous. I sensed it the day he cornered me by the supply closet. The time he brought me “special” coffee. The time he came again to bother me and Mark was there. Mark the big scary gay guy who seemed to have scared him off.
I think worst of all was the fact that I’ve repeatedly been told I’m paranoid, by bosses, by the marine, by Co workers, by my sister, by everyone. And I’ve never been wrong. Never. Society needs to stop victim blaming and stop telling women not to trust themselves. Maybe if I did none of this would have ever happened. Maybe u could have spoken louder could have fought. But everyone just tells me to be quiet, they just tell me I’m wrong. They say “he’s a nice guy he wouldn’t do that” or “that isn’t rape” why do we make excuses for bad men? Why do we treat rape so differently from every other crime? I don’t understand someone please explain it to me because I just don’t understand.
— Survivor, age 32