But he didn’t rape me

Image from KellyP42 at Morguefile.comI know I wasn’t the only teenage girl who had older guys who liked to ply them with alcohol.

One guy in particular, a football player, who should know who he is but probably still doesn’t want to admit it was really on the give her alcohol until she consents plan for sex.

We had known each other since we were in kindergarten, and in high school, he asked me out, so I started dating him. Of course, the dating generally took the form of me going over to his house when his parents weren’t there, and we’d spend the night drinking. Most of the time, it was the two of us, but sometimes there were a few other people around. I’d get drunk, we’d make out, I’d sober up, and I’d go home. The drunker I got, the more he tried to do.

The final time we hung out, we were making out, and he whipped it out. Even though I’d said no repeatedly. I laughed and told him to put it away. I don’t have a totally clear memory of what happened next, but I do remember kneeing him and then going home shortly thereafter.

I was safe.

I had escaped.

Fast forward a few months. I didn’t have anything to do with him. But one day, a friend (male, let’s call him B) came up to me. He had another female friend (let’s call her C). C had been raped by my ex-boyfriend. She hadn’t been given permission to date, and she felt like she couldn’t tell anyone or do anything, so she told B.

I couldn’t convince her to do anything – she thought she would get in trouble, that he would make her life more miserable, that her parents would punish her for dating.

She only wanted one thing: for him to leave her alone.

Ever since their “date,” he’d been acting like nothing happened. He’d talked to her, wave at her in the hallway. All normal behavior. He wouldn’t leave her alone, and she didn’t know what to do.

I’d like to think that I was a badass way back when. Maybe I was.

I found him in a local public hangout, and, with my new boyfriend hanging behind me), I went up to my rapist ex-boyfriend and told him that if he ever bothered her again, even talked to her, I would kill him.

I need you to get the full picture in your mind.

At the time, I was five feet tall and 100 pounds. He was a football player.

The next day, his father (who happened to be a Marine) called my mother. His father told me mother that I should stop threatening his son and leave him alone.

After that, he didn’t talk to me. He didn’t talk to C. Life went on.

Twenty-five years later, I got a message on FB.

From the rapist.

It said, “Remember me?”

I blocked him.

One thought on “But he didn’t rape me

  1. Wow, I had almost the identical experience to your first description with that guy, although I don’t think my guy had raped anyone, he was just a complete dick.
    This guy just pulled his genitals out in front of me when we were out in a park one night and grabbed my hand and put it on his bits.
    I reacted pretty similarly to you too. Except I used the approach my mum taught me as a teenager. I pretended to be ok with it, and go along with it, then told him to close his eyes. When he did, I took a step back and then kicked him in the balls as hard as I could. It turns out that works pretty damn well, cos this guy collapsed onto the floor and started crying.

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