t was my freshman year of college and I had just broken up with an emotionally abusive boyfriend from back home. I was upset and angry and also feeling liberated because I could finally do what I wanted. So I went to a party with a couple friends.
While I was at the party, I drank a lot. I remember doing a lot of shots and kissing a few people, being flirtatious. Then when I was getting ready to leave the party, I looked down at my phone and the previously mentioned abusive ex was calling. That was probably around the 5th time he’d called within the last two days and each time I answered, he made me feel horrible and tried to manipulate me. So when I saw that he called, I got mad, declined the call, and started drinking even more. One of my good friends was my designated driver for the night and he was getting mad that I was staying much later than we’d agreed on. He finally talked me into going home but he was so mad at me that he didn’t walk me to my room. (I lived in a dorm) I managed to get up to my floor and when I walked past my friend’s room, she was with a couple of other people, including one guy that had liked me for a while.
This guy was someone I had known for a couple of weeks and we were friends before he started to be attracted to me. He’d told me that he wanted to be with me before this event, but I told him that I was not comfortable being more than friends and I was not interested in him like he was with me. But I thought that we were still friends, and when I arrived at my friend’s room drunk, he told them that he would walk me to my room to make sure I didn’t drunkenly wander off somewhere.
When we got inside my room and got in bed, I wasn’t even aware that he hadn’t walked away yet. When I noticed that he had walked in with me and shut the door, I told him that I was going to go to sleep so I would see him another time. He came to the side of my bed and said that he wanted to stay and leaned in to kiss me. I was laying in bed drunk so I didn’t do much except tell him I didn’t want that, that I wanted him to leave. He told me that he knew I wanted him and he stuck his hand down my pants. He put his fingers inside me and wouldn’t stop even though I kept asking him to, he just kept saying that I wanted it and since we both wanted it there was no use acting like we didn’t. When I tried to push him away and sit up, next thing I knew he was on top of me, He ripped my pants off and I realized that he had taken his off too. I was saying no and pushing him as hard as I could but I was drunk and it was hard to move and then he started choking me. I remember feeling his penis against my skin, but I don’t remember anything after that. But I wasn’t in any kind of pain the next day, so I hesitate to say that I was actually raped.
The next day, he apologized to me for what he did. I told him I couldn’t be friends with him anymore, but I was too embarrassed to ask him if we actually had sex or not. I got tested after that but that was the only action I ever took. I told my older sister what happened and she told me that I was probably “giving off the vibe that I wanted sex” and since I was drunk and had been acting promiscuous that night, it was my fault. After that I couldn’t tell the rest of my family for fear of what they might think of me. I told myself that he didn’t really rape me and that I’m not scared of him, but when I see him on campus I get nervous and jumpy. Even while I’m writing this now I’m shaking. But I don’t know if I can even call what happened to me rape, and that guy was a very nice guy before all of this happened, and everyone still thinks he’s a nice guy, AND I was drunk while this happened. It’s a very strange feeling to be having.