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Running With Bare Feet

Running, searching, running and searching for where I parked my car. I was in a black velvet Christmas dress and bare feet. The night before I had been happy to celebrate the Christmas season at a Restaurant/Bar in upscale Newport Beach, California. I was 28 years old. I met some really interesting and fun people that night and had been invited to go to an after hours party at a beach house of one of the men in the group. There were a lot of people there and then they were gone. Lost in conversation I hadn’t realized that everyone had left but me. He was on top of me. I said no. He said one way or another this WILL happen. He was strong and rough so I submitted…. Then I ran. Out of the house and down the street I ran leaving my shoes and purse and keys. I couldn’t find my car, where did I park. We didn’t have cell phones in those days. If I could just find my car. I had a hide a key under the bumper… Where is my car?? After what seemed to be forever there it was. Safety. But he had my keys. Keys to my house my life. Would he find me? I was scared but never reported it. I was after all there of my own free will. I had been drinking. No one would believe me over this handsome rich man from Newport Beach. How many others? I’m sorry I was weak and did not report it. That is my shame now. Not the rape. I’m sorry….. I had been molested by my mothers husband and a boyfriend when I was a child. No one believed then. No one helped me then why would they believe me now. Push it down, push it down, that’s what we are taught. Somehow we are to blame. Thank you for speaking out. I am 52 years old and just watched your documentary. I can be brave at 52 when I wasn’t at 28.

2 comments

  • Alissa Ackerman
  • Sara

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