It’s taken me nearly a month to have a wholly good day, you know.
I can’t even begin to explain why I wanted to see you that last time, instead of just ending it over text. Or by phone. Not that I believed you deserved a great deal of courtesy by then. I guess I was nervous. Afraid. And part of me wanted to see how I’d react to being around you, whether what happened between us was forgivable.
It wasn’t, of course. I didn’t even want you to touch me, and you were so oblivious. Thinking the times we’d talked about it over text were enough. That you could do what you did and I’d just be able to move on.
I’m not even sure ‘rapist’ is what you are. I don’t know if it was a rape. I don’t even know if it was sexual assault. I didn’t ever say ‘no’ clearly.
But I did give you a series of soft no’s every time you pushed not using a condom. The first time you asked I explained why I couldn’t. The second, I said ‘maybe’ and invited further conversation. But you didn’t ever ask again, you just did it. You didn’t give me time to say ‘no’. And when I observed later that the ‘lack of consent was interesting’ all you could say was that I enjoyed it. You repeatedly acknowledge that you just weren’t listening to me. That whole weekend you didn’t put a condom on, no matter how often I said I was uncomfortable. The last time we had sex I felt truly disgusting. I didn’t want you near me, nor to be in my own skin. I believed, and still do, that I deserved more respect than that.
It took me a few days to understand my feelings, and understand why I’d turned off you so suddenly. But the realisation dawned, and as I began to talk about it with my friends and family I couldn’t help but cry. Because I felt truly violated.
About this time last year this happened to me in a drunken one night stand. I was much drunker than I realised, it hit me later like a freight train. But he entered me bare after I asked for a condom to end my complaints. It was in you see, we may as well continue.
So when you repeatedly did that to me I felt completely disarmed and absolutely violated. I still do.
As a result of your actions, I have become completely unbalanced. Every minor hiccup in my life, every stress, has been an insurmountable peak. I have entertained hurting myself, and have made only half joking statements about killing myself. The sorts of things I haven’t really seriously entertained in months, if not more than a year.
As a result of your actions, I’ve had to tell people and overcome a great deal of shame. I’ve had to listen to people judge me while I am made to justify my soft no’s. I’ve been asked why I didn’t say more, why I didn’t try to stop you physically, why I didn’t just say ‘no’. It’s been so uncomfortable to be judged by my best friend and my own mother before the depth of my despair reaches them and they too see the weight of your actions.
As a result of your actions, I am meek where I was once assertive. I’m afraid to trust and have hardened softening edges. I worked so hard to be who I was when we first met. And you stripped me, just like that.
It’s taken me a month to wake up and feel okay, happy even. To get up and be productive and do things that make me feel good. Today was my first truly, wholly good day.
I had brunch with you. I sat across the table from you feeling such an aversion every time you wanted to hold my hand, to touch me, to engage me. We ate the same food. I listened, I was so cold. I didn’t deserve what you had done.