I didn't asked to be raped.
But for a long time that is exactly what I thought. I asked for it. Not until I said the phrase: "I was raped" did I actually believe it.
One of my co-workers had become quite fond of me and I had thought he would be a good person to be friends with. And that is exactly what we started to be. Friends. And just that. He had a girlfriend and I knew that it could go no further than friends. One day, he had invited me over to hang out at his apartment and since he was my friend I thought it would be ok. When I arrived there he started to come on to me and then continued to rape me. I told him no. I screamed at him telling him he was hurting me. I tried to push him off. But I couldn't do it I wasn't strong enough to push him. I was raped.
At first I didn't think it was rape. I thought it was my fault because I had gone over there and because I had decided to be his friend. I didn't think it was rape because I knew him and he was supposed to be my friend. When I started thinking I may have been raped it was a few months after the actual act. Every time I would start to come to grips with the idea I'd make another excuse for him and place the blame on me. I started to think that I asked for it. I was wrong.
I didn't ask to be raped. I told him no. I tried to push him off. I screamed that he was hurting me. But I was raped. I was hurt and made to bleed. I can finally say with true certainty I was raped.
I read in a sociology book that many women are raped everyday that don't believe they were because they knew the person. A stranger can rape a woman. A friend can rape another friend. A brother can rape a sister. A husband can rape his wife. Rape can happen between any two people regardless of whether they know each other or not. I don't think enough women understand that, but they need to. Just like I needed to when it actually happened.
I was raped. By a friend. I was 17 years old. He was 22 years old. It was not my fault. I didn't ask to be raped.
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