Sophie's Story

I met a guy in Navy ROTC at a college party when I was 19. He was handsome, charming, and so respectful. Having met at a party, I expected he was looking for a drunk hookup and I told him right off I wouldn't do that. He never pressured me or anything. He bought me dinner a few times, invited me over for the superbowl, we'd watch movies, go to parties, hang out. Occasionally he would start to get physical, but every time I said I wasn't ready he would stop immediately and just hold me and sing to me and tell funny stories. Eventually I let him get more and more intimate. We started sleeping together, consensually. But after a few months of him refusing to be exclusive, I had enough. I wanted a relationship, not a hook up. We got pretty distant.

 

One night he's at a party that gets busted. The cops were letting underage people go if they had someone sober to take them home. Knowing I lived close and I hardly drink, he called me and I took him home. Once I got him in the door he started getting physical, and the more I resisted, the meaner he got. He called me a tease and a slut and said no one would care what happened to me. He got really violent, every time I would make a noise or resist he'd hit me harder. He raped me. It was my 20th birthday.

 

A few days later I went to my pastor and told him everything. I asked for help, or advice. He changed the subject. So I didn't tell anyone else for a long time. I knew what happened to me was wrong, but I didn't think anyone else would see it that way. After all, I had a sexual history with this guy, he'd always been so kind, my pastor ignored my cry for help... it all added up to me burying the truth for years.

 

But I couldn't bury the rage and guilt and self hate. All my relationships - boyfriends, best friends, parents - suffered. I was reckless and suicidal, and so so angry. Eventually I was hospitalized for my behavior, and finally told my family.

 

There's so much more to my story that I can never seem to tell expect in bits and pieces. He threw money at me when he was done. He stalked me and would send texts like "Love your hair today". A good friend from high school was in his unit, and knew who had raped me without me ever giving a name. I have never, since that night, said his name. I moved and left my school and friends to get away from him. I constantly feel like "I'm doing this wrong", but is there a "right" way to recover from something like this?

-Sophie