Naive and Vulnerable

I was working in a hotel in a remote holiday village where he was the bouncer on the nights that the night club attached to the hotel was open. He was not the stereotypical bouncer. He was relatively small, average build and not threatening-looking. It was obvious he was there because he would know the kids from the local area that were too young to be there.

I was 16, he was in his mid-twenties.

I was young and believed I was invincible, as so many that age do. I begged my parents to allow me to stay working there until the end of the Summer, while they returned home with my brothers. I wish now that they hadn’t given in to my demands.

Young, with money, feeling invincible yet socially insecure, I hung out with the others that I worked with and usually ended up drinking too much to compensate for my insecurity. We would all go out as a group, including him, on our nights off.

I knew he fancied me and we ended up “dating”, which was just a few kisses in the night club and nothing more. I had absolutely no experience at that stage, apart from kissing.

I was quite drunk that night so when he suggested we walk home, I accepted. I had no reason to believe he was anything other than being nice to me because he liked me. On our way home, we passed a garage that did not have any door at the entrance. We started kissing at the doorway and then he pulled me inside. I can remember being hesitant about it, but went along with it as I wanted to pretend I was more mature than I really was. There were 2 cars in the garage at the time and he tried to open the doors but they were locked. So he lead me over to the bonnet of the car and backed me up against it while he stood in front of me.

I honestly do not know what I thought was going to happen but before I knew it I was lying back over the car bonnet and he was at my jeans. I was trying to get up but I couldn’t. I could feel him inside me and him saying “it’s only my finger, it’s only my finger…” As if that would have made it ok. In any case, I could see that neither of his hands were down there. I registered what was happening but I was too drunk and didn’t know what to do. So I did nothing. I don’t understand why I did nothing. It was over quickly anyway and I brushed it off afterwards and even though in my mind I was screaming and my mind was reeling I let him walk me the rest of the way home.

I wasn’t asked did I want to have sex, I didn’t give consent to have sex and I was underage and completely incapable of giving consent. Yet I can’t seem to call it rape. I think my upbringing that made sure that I was always polite made me unable to tell him to get off me, or was it that I didn’t want to appear frigid, or cause a fuss? Or face what might happen if I did fight?

I continued seeing the same person for another few weeks as I didn’t know how to deal with it and tried to normalize it, that we were “in a relationship” so to speak. Similar things happened another 3 or 4 times. Once when I had my period. I was so embarrassed and couldn’t stop it. It was like I froze and could not make myself say that I didn’t want to be there doing those things.

I am 36 now and it still haunts me. I have done a lot of counseling and it has helped a huge amount. I also told my mother about 5 or 6 years ago and she was very understanding, even of the fact that I stayed with him. We haven’t spoken about it much since, but her understanding was a great consolation to me and she never blamed me for one second.

I wish I had roared and screamed and kicked and I hope that I am raising my daughters to be stronger than I was and be able to tell a guy to get lost if they try anything they are not ready for. And I hope I am raising my son to be a gentleman and have respect for women.