![]() Self-harm can be in the form of cuts on your thighs or orgasms on your rapist’s futon. We deserve it even when we try to heal by hurting ourselves, no matter what kind of hurt it is. We don’t always find it, but we always, always deserve it. Sometimes people sleep with their rapists. Some of us hate our rapists, and some of us can’t. The relationship had disintegrated and disappeared from memory as if it had never happened.Įvery single person experiences rape differently. Our fling had ended without any pain or grand gestures. Another part of me felt relieved - I didn’t have to sleep with him anymore. There was a part of me that felt rejected. For me, sleeping with him was the ultimate denial that he ever raped me.Ī few weeks after our last sexual encounter, he started dating someone. I constantly thought to myself: What if I could relive the first night? If I went back in time and consented, it would have been a great story instead of a tragedy.Įvery time I said yes, I was trying to consent retroactively. The way he looked at me made me feel like I was worthy of everyone’s love, including my own. In the month that followed, I was all over him, my hands running through his corkscrew curls. When I scrubbed away my memories of the assault, what remained was the attraction I’d felt toward him before. In some ways, those feelings were a form of denial. Maybe this is why I didn’t expect to feel human feelings for my rapist. Looking back, I realize that choosing to sleep with my rapist was a part of another self-destructive pattern. This time around, I thought I was doing well because I wasn’t doing those things. I cut into my thighs, took painfully hot showers, and scratched my skin open. Like many others, I self-harmed to deal with the trauma. This time, I found myself in the eye of the storm, calm and numb, while my body twisted and turned around me. I always thought of orgasms like a hurricane, with all my nerves twisting and turning and rising up out of my body. I closed my eyes and found myself halfway between pleasure and confusion. If it was that bad, I wouldn’t be able to sleep with him now. It wasn’t that bad, I told myself as his face disappeared between my thighs. ![]() We ended up having sex for the next 6 hours. This means he’s different, right? This means it’s OK. None of my other rapists had ever asked for forgiveness. What more could I ask for? I thought.Īs he tearily begged for forgiveness, my heart broke. He apologized to me profusely, and he told me he’d never do it again. He sat at my desk in my dorm room and started crying. I was completely without a blueprint on how to act and feel. While I waited for him to arrive, I frantically googled “what to do if your rapist apologizes.” No good results turned up. I allowed him to come to my residence to speak to me. “I need to know how to fix things,” the text read. Later that week, he texted that he needed to see me. He texted me an hour later to apologize, and an hour after that to tell me he’d stop texting me if that was what I wanted. It was the beginning of what would be months of apologies. “I’m so sorry,” he said, as realization crept into the lines across his forehead. Trust us when we tell you these are 10 Things You Should Never Say to A Woman You're Trying to Sleep With.As soon as I got up and left my rapist’s bed, he realized what he had done. Help us help you avoid getting your game shut down before it even begins. Listen to our tales of woe and learn from our mistakes. Hopefully, our trials and tribulations were not all for naught. We have said things that have gotten drinks thrown in our faces, backs turned to us, and have even earned us a slap our two. In our never ending quest for the perfect thing to say to a woman, we have made a lot of mistakes. In fact, we aren't sure if that El Dorado of getting loquaciously laid even exists. Unfortunately, we can't give that to you because we still haven't found it. We've all dedicated immense amounts of time and energy to finding that perfect pick-up line, the precise phrase that grants immediate entrance into a lady's pants.
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