I’m about to share a story that I haven’t told many people. I don’t know why I still hold on to this secret. Maybe there is still shame and embarrassment involved. I’m not sure.
My first sexual experience was when I was 15 years old. It was date rape, although we didn’t have a term like date rape at the time. I didn’t realize it was that until many years later.
I had met a boy, a fine looking boy, that I liked and thought liked me too. I don’t know why he would have though. He was gorgeous and I was... well I was me. Awkward, thick, insecure and the list goes on. I don’t remember how we met (there are many things I’ve forgotten) but I do remember him inviting me over to his house after school. It was December 15, 1983 - that I will never forget.
I took the bus to his house after school. We were alone in his room and we started kissing. One thing led to another and I was on his bed. He said he wanted to “do it”. I said no and he said that I wasn’t going to come over there, tease him and not give him any. He was angry but not violent. He undressed me and had sex with me against my will. I didn't scream and I didn't fight. I was scared - too scared to do anything but lay there and take it. It was all a blur. When it was over I remember getting dressed, him kissing me on the forehead and walking me to the bus stop.
I never told a soul. I held that secret for more than 25 years. For a variety of reasons, self-shame, fear of being accused of being fast and loose, being slut-shamed before slut-shaming was even a thing, feeling like I brought on myself because I shouldn't have been there, and the list goes on and on.
I revealed that secret to total strangers on Twitter one day several years ago. I can't remember why. Probably because it was a safe space to tell the story.
That's all. Just wanted to share my story. And too many of us have a story to tell.