I don’t know how people are going to take this blog, or whether they’ll think I’m only trying to get attention or anything of that sort. The thing is, I lied about why I created this blog… well, partly. This year something really bad happened to me, I was very innocent and naïve and it basically destroyed me for months and months. Now I want to talk about it, not only to help myself (being able to tell the story for some reason feels like this monumental step for me) but also hopefully to help anybody who went through something similar.
I was with two of my girlfriends and some friends of theirs I had only met the day before (male). My friends had the kind of jokey-relationship with the guys to where one of them, Sam, was their adoptive “father” (he was older than us). After I met them, they wanted to “adopt” me too. Later that day however, while we were hanging out and joking around, it changed. Sam hugged me and told me that he thought I should be the wife and not the daughter. We went on to kid about his arab descent and held hands pretending to be the mother/father of my friends.
This all seems so stupid now, but I feel like I need to tell the entire story.
Later, I needed to go and catch a taxi to leave. Brittany and Heather were going to walk me to the street corner, but Sam stood up and said he would walk his wife to the taxi. We all laughed and I went with him. Thus begins the long trail of my mistakes. Instead of walking me to the street corner, he walked me down this side street where there were a lot of cars parked. I don’t really know why I followed him, or what exactly I thought we were doing in the alley. He turned around and I said, “What are we doing? I have to go home.” “I just want to talk to you for a second.” He said, “So… what do you think? Do you want to be my girlfriend?” I was completely shocked because I thought that the whole thing had been a joke. I muttered something like “I… I like someone else… I was only joking, Sam, I’m sorry… I didn’t know you were serious.” He looked at me for a while in a way that made me feel really uncomfortable, but I didn’t try to get away and he was holding my hands and I didn’t let go.
“Kiss me.” he said, and I tried to keep it a joke. “Arab women don’t kiss their husbands in public.” I said, and he replied “No one can see us now.” I knew something was really wrong, when he said that, and I started to get really scared but still didn’t try to get away. He kept asking me to kiss him, I continued to refuse until finally he said “Just on the cheek, then.” I wanted to go home, so I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and he grabbed my chin and made me kiss him full on the mouth. He kept kissing me (without me trying to fight back) so I started crying. He stopped kissing me and tried to calm me down.
“Sh… look, I’m not kissing you anymore. Shh.” Then he pulled me in between two of the cars. He was pressed up against me… I can still remember the door handle of one of them was right in the small of my back. I couldn’t get away anymore. He tried to shush me some more. “Please, Sam, I have to go home.” “Sh… it’s okay, I just want to talk to you for a bit. Now, why are you crying?” “Because, I like someone else. And I don’t want you to kiss me anymore.” “I’m not kissing you.” We were silent for a couple of minutes, and I kept crying a bit. “ So… you like someone else? Why aren’t you with him?” For some reason I answered in the worst possible way. “Because he doesn’t like me anymore. He broke up with me.” Sam looked pleased and said “In that case you’re free… and I think you should be with me. You’re really pretty.” I said “No, Sam. I’m not like that, okay? I don’t like you like that.”
He started to get a little angry and tried to kiss me again, I turned my head. “I’m not going to let you go home until you kiss me.” he said. I was truly frightened, so I turned my head and let him kiss me. “A REAL kiss.” He said, so I started kissing him back. Telling this still makes me feel so sick… I can hardly believe it was me kissing him back… doing what he said like that. The rest of the night was a little hazy, it was completely strange. On one side, I was there feeling all of this… kissing him –and on the other I could almost stand there and watch all of it happening from the side… as if I had left my body. It’s very hard to explain, I’m sorry if this all sounds stupid. After a while, I tried to turn my head again saying “that’s enough, let me go now.” Instead, he got really angry and bit me. I had a bruise on my lip for a couple of days after, but not many people noticed because it was on the upper inside part. He was so angry, he started to touch me and every time I tried to push his hands away he would throw my hands down and start again with more force. He touched me everywhere, and when I kept resisting he continued to hurt me. I didn’t try to hurt him or run.
He took my hand and made me touch him. I tried to pull it away so he pinched and bit me. He kept putting my hand where he wanted it until I complied. He gave me instructions, I obeyed. Afterwards, he leaned against me and stroked my hair. “You’re not going to tell anyone about this, are you?” “No, Sam.” I said. “I won’t tell anyone.” “And, you won’t be mad at me, will you? I don’t want you to be angry with me.” “No, Sam, I won’t be angry.” “Good girl.” This will always strike me as one of the most disgusting things of the whole event. The fact that I answered him like that –so quietly and meekly. It makes me feel as if I sold a part of my soul. Afterwards, he walked me to the street corner, and I got in a taxi and left.
He didn’t rape me, for which I am eternally grateful. But this… affected me so much. It still makes me cry to talk about it, even on an anonymous blog to people I will never meet. I think it’s necessary to tell the story, though. For my own health –and also for those that it could potentially help. I want to make a difference in the world, and I can use this experience to help people who are similar. That’s why I’m trying my hardest to move on, to get “better” –to not let this ruin my life like it ruined the past couple of months. Even some of my friendships have fallen apart as a result of this.
I felt so guilty afterwards, and I still do partly. I read a lot about survivors of sexual assault, however, and one of the most common emotional reactions was a feeling of guilt and shame. I’m trying to combat it, although I still wish so hard that I had done things differently –that I had not been so naïve and trusting. That I had fought back instead of participating. I don’t think it will be easy to get through this, but one of the most important things for me was that I’m not alone. So many women go through this –and much, much worse –daily (including my sister, years and years before). I found some websites that have really helped me, not only deal with the fear and the nightmares, but also with the loneliness. Some of them are what convinced me to tell this story, to create this blog in the first place. If something like this has happened to you, I really hope you visit some of those sites (listed below) because they really help. One of the most important things I think, to heal, is to not absorb what happened and never let it out. Trust me, it will consume you. If anybody would like to talk about it, my email is phoenix_alias@hotmail.com, and I’d love to listen or talk or whatever anyone would need. I hope this helps someone.
http://www.survivingtothriving.org/mainpage
Oh hunny, I thought I was following your blog and that you hadnt posted anything but I figured I would come check on you and see if I was wrong, Im sorry I didnt realize this post was up. I would have responded alot sooner.
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