PART 3 (last part) She already had people convinced I was different. Even my mother said I was too quiet. The one time I did try to talk to the junior high guidance counselor about it, she called my mother and said I was having sick fantasies. I heard her tell my mom that they needed to keep me quiet so I didnt ruin Maries reputation, because she was such a nice girl. Mom took me to a psychologist, who spent a year of very traumatic sessions curing me of my delusion until I gave up trying to get help and went along with what she said to me. My last session was writing a letter of apology to Marie. Even though I never had to give it to her, the helplessness and wrongness I felt was bad enough to give me nightmares about the whole town finding out and coming down on me like the shrink did. I was always afraid after that, wondering who the guidance counselor had told and which teachers might see me as a lying freak with lesbian rape fantasies. Sometimes the thought would hit me in class, and I wouldnt be able to look at anyone. It made me very awkward sometimes when teachers called on me for questions. I got yelled at a lot for not answering loud enough to be heard. Ironically, Marie was the one who would commiserate with me between classes about what a bully the teacher was when that happened, and even though she was the one causing the problem, she was the only one I had to turn to for comfort. The abuse continued for years. As we got older, she escalated it into other stuff, making me wear things that hurt, making me go down on her, slapping me when I gagged, mocking me when I cried. It stopped when we were in high school, when my moms job transferred her out of the area, and we moved. Finding out that we were leaving was the most exciting day of my life. We would be far enough away that I would be free from Marie. I was scared to start over in a new school, but I decided that Id rather just not have friends than face another night at her house. I also decided I was never going back to that little town again. In the end, I had some friends. I did okay the last years of school. I even have a friend who has been through something like what Marie did to me. We are each others only moral support. Im not writing this to make you feel sorry for me. Now that I am older I feel stronger and am starting to recover. Im taking classes and moving on with my life. I just wanted you to know that sometimes, rape has nothing to do with men, and the anti-rape campaigns that only talk about men help keep victims like me from getting any outside help. I wanted to say it someplace where maybe I wont be shouted down or shut down for talking about it, and where I would get a chance to explain why I was saying it.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 15:25:26 +0000
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