Unexpectedly he showed up at my apartment. I was 22, he was 55. I was 110 lbs, he was 250 and 6ft seven. He had a six pack of beer. I don’t drink. He told me I owed him because he had allowed me to buy his son’s car for $500 when it was worth way more. I was a whore and he was there to prove it. Something inside of me died.
After several weeks I changed jobs, and completely repressed the memory – I never told a soul and I know it’s because I blamed myself. Several years later I went to work for him again, never once recalling the rape. I had even stayed at his house, broke bread with his wife – and not once did those memories surface.
I finally remembered 9 years later and that too was devastating – it still is – to know I let him get away with it, and that it’s probably happened again and again and I did nothing to stop it. It has destroyed my life – now, I never leave the house – I trust no one!
Tell! Shout it from the rooftops! They say it is the only way to heal and live a ‘normal life’ – I think they are right. She is right there is nothing to be embarrassed about, but I was devastated – destroyed. I still am!
I am so sorry to hear these horrible stories. Yes, I have a horrible story as well, but cannot sit alone to write about it. I just know that my life is unmanageable and after 47 years I started having rape flashbacks. I am now 62. I recently met a woman who was also raped and told her about this website. We are going to sit together and write our stories at this website in the hopes of healing ourselves and helping others to heal. Thanks for your courage to speak out.