mesix (mesix) wrote,
mesix
mesix

Staying Silent hurts

Staying Silent hurts.

My university is participating in The Clothesline Project this week --a project designed to bring attention to the prevalence of sexual and domestic violence (especially against women).

I want to make a shirt. I'm still working out exactly what I want to put on it --"You said if I loved you, I'd fuck you. I say if you loved me, you wouldn't have forced" only more eloquent, better written --I am a writer at heart, and not writing well irritates me. Things go through constant rewrites in my mind.

But, to return to the point of the post, I haven't. I haven't tried to make a shirt. I've paused, ever so briefly at the table, tried to think through my words, but to no avail. I know I shouldn't keep being Silent --hell, staying so Silent hurts.

But I'm not strong enough to speak out.

And part of it is just social fear --it's not like CrazyEx *actually* raped me, it's not like he ever tried to use physical force against me, or hell, ever got his penis into me. The term rape? It can't possibly apply to me, because he never forced me into sexual intercourse, and that's what all the dictionary definitions seem to focus on.

I haven't *earned* my right to use that term.

But...

But he did force me. He used his words, to get me to do ever so much more, guilt and coercion and even when I asked to stop, to take a step back, he refused. He yelled at me, calling me a prude, implying that there was something deeply wrong with me.

And yes, he told me, in so many words, that if I loved him, I would have sex with him. He pushed and pushed, and when I told him I wasn't in the mood for sex, he asked if he could just press against me, essentially use me as a sex toy, his cock pressed hard and rough against my ass. He knew I didn't want anal, fine, that didn't stop him from being so rough it hurt some times.

And on that last morning as his girlfriend I woke up with his finger in my ass, and I just knew it was over. Pushing me further and further to intercourse, grooming me to enjoy it, fuck him, I was no longer having it. I was strong enough to break up with him.

Eight months later, I was finally strong enough to completely remove him from my life, when it proved from his comments and IMs that he was just so very not healthy for me.

It was a little over a year before I was strong enough to take back my livejournal as my own, talk about relationships and people and things that had happened.

But here we are now. It's been a year and a half, almost. And I can't talk about it. My Best Friend, the girlfriend I would marry, if I thought marriage was a reasonable concept, the boy I've given my heart to, the boy I've given my *self* to, none of them know.

Part of it's charity. I know we had mutual friends, I know many of them are still mutual friends. I don't want him to be thought less of by then. I don't want to hurt him --his life has been so hard and so rough and I'm not willing to just push it over the edge.

Part of it's love. Rereading old chats --I really did love him. I cared about him. I wanted him to be happy. I don't fall out of love easily, to the point where I start to wonder if I ever really loved him at all. But regardless, he's human, and I love him for that.

But most of it?

I think it's fear. I'm scared of what people will think, of him, of me. Of what they'll say. That they'll think I'm an idiot for staying with him so long or letting him go so far. Because I am an idiot, I should've been strong enough to not get involved with the man who fucked up my brain more than anyone else there ever was has or will. If I had the strength to escape him all along, why did it take me so fucking long to stop letting him hurt me?

I'm ashamed of my weakness. I'm ashamed of my past.

And although I still don't feel I've earned the "right" to say it, maybe doing so's the next step. Even if it's just in an anonymous blog, that nobody reads, that's supposed to be about happy warm fluffy sex positive things.

I was raped.

I was raped.

...And I'm still too weak to stop being Silent.



(((I apologize to anyone reading that this is my first post in a month or something. Life has been kinda blah, and I haven't felt much like writing. But this wanted to be said, and it was so hard to hit the post button in the first place, that I refuse to negate it by hiding the entry away.

I will find the strength. It's just gonna take me a long long time.)))
Tags: badstuff, crazyex, links, rape, sex negative, silence, storiestrue, strength
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