Raped By My Boyfriend For Love


Sounds like a headline inquiring minds want to know, doesn’t it? But THIS really happened.

Randy and I had been dating a year before I went away to college. He was worried about me going away, and he had reason to be. I just wasn’t as into him as he was into me.

I’m Getting Really Uncomfortable Here…

It can’t have been a big surprise to him when I told him during his second visit that I had decided to end it between us. “No, there isn’t someone else”, I said in my usual tactful Asperger’s1 fashion (there wasn’t), “there just isn’t enough someone us.”

Randy took this much too calmly. In a flat, zombie-like voice, staring into my eyes as if he could convince me by using hypnosis, he said, “You’re wrong. You can’t do this. You’re making a mistake.

I’d seen enough old movies that I knew how to respond: “No, Randy, I’ve thought about this for some time. I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my mind.

Can’t You See Those Flowing Curtains? They Show I Mean Business.


 
No. You can’t!” Randy’s calm left him. His voice broke as it got louder. “I’m going to prove that you’re making a mistake!

Then he literally LEAPED on top of me on the bed and tried to thrust his tongue in my mouth. I turned my head away in disgust. He began unzipping his fly and pushing down my pants! I couldn’t believe it!

Randy, STOP!” I twisted my body and tried to arch my back to throw him off. I tried pushing his hands away. But, as I had learned during a rape attempt by a stranger when I was fourteen years old, boys are a LOT stronger than girls (most of them, more than most of us).

They’re Stronger Even When They’re Not Cheating Like This Boy (His Wrist Bent, Her Wrist Straight)


 
Stopping Randy was also complicated by two stupid, stupid facts:
 
(1) I felt sorry for him!
 
Yes! I really did! Because I could see that he was hurting so badly emotionally, I didn’t want to also hurt him physically–even though HE was hurting ME:

Randy always kept his nails long on one hand for guitar-picking, and these were now cutting into the small of my back as he thrust into me.

From That Time On, Guitar Nails On Guys Have Always Grossed Me Out.


 
I felt sick. I thought I might vomit.

But I still felt too sorry for my RAPIST to injure him to make him stop.

How effed up is THAT?
 

Pretty D#mned Effed Up–That’s How Effed Up.





(2) I was embarrassed.
 
I WAS TOO EMBARRASSED TO CALL FOR HELP.

At that time, seventeen years old, bony, skinny, not confident in myself or my physical appearance, I didn’t want the dozen kids out in the campus lounge to rush to my doorway and see me half-naked.

I preferred to be RAPED rather than be SEEN NAKED.

How effed up is THAT?



Effed up, but understandable:
 

Sure. Fine. Tell That To a 17-Year-Old After Males and the Media (and Some Females Too!) Have Told Her Otherwise For 17 Years.


 
What’s more, I didn’t want RANDY to be embarrassed, either.

I knew he was temporarily out of his mind. He was crying, even as he raped me. He was panicked, not just at losing me, but at the thought that he’d never have another girlfriend–I was his first.

And I recognized–even in the middle of being raped–that this pathetic boy–who was also at that moment a violent, selfish rapist caring only about what HE wanted–was a victim of our sexist culture.

Randy had bought into the media package presented repeatedly to us growing up:

  1. Man pushes his attentions on a resistant woman
  2. Woman gets turned on.
  3. Woman gives in.

Randy truly believed that if he could just force me to have sex again, I would “fall back in love” with him. How triple-sadly sad.

So I got raped.



I Didn’t Fall Back In Love With Him Afterward.





I still carry faint fingernail scars on my lower back to remind me of that very special afternoon–as if I could forget any of the many times males have been sexually abusive with me.

I think all women remember those times. Don’t you, ladies?



Addendum:

For years, I harbored a real fear that Randy, whom I considered unstable because of this incident and how it ended (I left that out), was going to show up at my door one day wielding an axe, blaming me for everything that had gone wrong in his life since that terrible afternoon. In reality, he probably healed and moved on, and never gave the rape another thought. He most likely did not even view himself as a rapist. Rapists can lie to themselves that way.
 
Second Addendum

If you feel like angrily commenting to lambast me, and tell me that rape is always and only about power, save your keystrokes. If you understood my piece, you know that I DID say this rape was (also) about power. Further, what I wrote here is MY reality. It was MY rape.
 
Footnote

(1) Asperger’s syndrome is considered a high-functioning form of autism. One common feature about people with it is that we are typically not very good at reading social cues (facial expressions and hints–the things other people use to learn how to be tactful, to take turns in conversations, and to generally get along with each other).
 

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54 Comments

  1. No your right – it wasn’t real love of course as that kind of love doesn’t harm but it was a twisted love and belief that you were his and he was going to prove it to you. Never ever let anyone tell you to feel badly about what happened or your views on it.

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    • Thank you, Jenni. That addendum was a “just in case” (and most likely not needed since this blog is so lightly read–which is why I’m so thankful for lovely followers like YOU : ). Most women are wonderfully supportive of survivors of rape, but a few feel it is their duty to “re-educate” to their way of thinking, or to what they feel is appropriate language.

      It is interesting to me that most women, I have found, are NOT supportive of survivors of emotional or physical abuse. Unless they’ve been there themselves, they buy into the “You could have left SOMEHOW if you’d really wanted to” myth. Really disappointing.

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      • If you haven’t felt true fear and the feeling of being utterly debased then it isn’t possible to understand a person who has and their choices. But worse they think they do and it is as you said really disappointing.

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      • I left a much more detailed comment but I do hope you get more traffic because you have a very powerful voice

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  2. Oh, OB. I get the multiple emotional responses that you write about – the compassion for your attacker, feeling embarrassed. I also get that it took you years to let go of the worry he’d show up one day with the axe. I’ve been there. My first husband, during the dying days of our marriage thought that a little afternoon delight would solve all of our problems. I did not. Resistance, however, as they say… yeah, futile. He was crying, too, as I recall. This is a wonderful horrible post.
    Was it difficult to write? Or did the difference in time and space help?
    I must apologize for not responding earlier – I only now found your post. WordPress made some changes somewhere that screwed with my reader. (bad choice of word, screwed. Sorry about that)

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    • Hey, Maggie, first to your apology–Rejected! (Not owed.) Good grief. Are we who read other’s blogs, or admire their writing, as I do yours, expected to read every piece? Or comment on every piece they admire? I certainly do not have time to read every post of every writer I admire. I wish I did. As for commenting, I’ve stopped myself often from commenting as much as I’m by nature inclined to do because: (1) sometimes there are many comments already, and why do I think I have anything so precious to add? OR (2) sometimes I’ve read and commented on several posts in a row and it feels egotistical to keep spewing, OR (3) I’m tired, and can’t think of a coherent or interesting way to say anything, and aren’t comments supposed to enhance the site–not just comment? At least, I think they should.

      Next, sorry you, too, went through a similar experience. I think the majority of women have had at least one horrible experience with a man or men, haven’t we? And that’s a lot of men who’ve been abusive.

      Yes, distance has made everything easier to write about, but also, I am at a place where current issues are easier to deal with, too. I am just “out there” now. The devil take all.

      Last, you are naughty and smart, emphasizing “screwed” with your specious apology. I laughed, as you guessed I would.

      Liked by 1 person

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  3. I’ve been down the exact “to comment or not to comment” path as you. So, thanks for letting me off the hook, but I am miffed that I missed your post. You put yourself out there and I missed the chance for timelyfeedback. The kind that that matters most. But, it sounds like you are in a good place, and for that I am glad. Glad you got a chuckle out of the last line. I’m a stinker. :p

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  4. M-R

     /  2014/03/30

    Been there. Done that. Well,to be honest, not EXACTLY … because the blokes I allowed to get away with raping me were definitely not doing it for love, but because I’d been given a meal … taken out, you know ? On both occasions as we neared my front door I experienced a sinking feeling comprising detestation of the bloke and fear that he expected his fee. And I was so fucked up that when each turned out to think he had the right, and I’d said no sorry I don’t do that, the brief struggle that ensued didn’t lead to my screaming for help. I’m talking back in the ’70s, mind: Things Were Different Then. My peers would’ve been ashamed of me for screaming for help. Go figure.

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    • Those f#cking entitled pigs. They put out, now you must put out. The cost of a meal given willingly equals the value of a forced f#ck. Interesting math, that. They likely excused their actions as their rightful due, but even for that time, they actions would have been seen by “decent” males as unacceptable. Pressuring you would have been seen as definitely okay. Forcing you? On a first date? Not.

      But I totally get that about your peers. Back then, and plenty often now, “girls” shouldn’t try to shame any guy, or bring shame and attention on themselves for ALLOWING THEMSELVES (always our fault) to get into such a situation!

      I am so very sorry you suffered through this twice, while those pigs went on, most likely to become bullying husbands and fathers. I hope you feel whole and well. We always think we are long healed, and then something brings it back–like when reading your comment made my eyes tear in empathy.

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      • M-R

         /  2014/03/30

        Oh, I had the incredible good fortune to meet and marry the best man I ever knew: the cleverest, funniest, wisest, kindest … shan’t bore you shitless – you get the idea. 31 years together. And then he died. I wrote a book about us; but touched only very generally on the part before we met. 😎

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        • A happy ending! How marvelous! Thirty-one years with a wonderful man. (That takes a wonderful woman, too.) There are so few of those men, I sometimes begin to suspect they are as mythical as unicorns, until someone like you reports otherwise. I am giddy with delight. And to be so pleased with him and your life together that you wrote a book about the two of you. He must be smiling often at you (in my belief system).

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          • M-R

             /  2014/03/30

            I like to think so. 🙂
            I’m delighted and slightly alarmed to see some of the other bloggers here with whom Maggie interacts … Do we sense each other’s backgrounds ? How is it that we group together ? Have you been lumbered with us in one big indigestible lump ?
            Never mind: you’ll cope. [grin]

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            • Far from indigestible, you-all are my fan base, and a lovely, warm bunch of folk (just far too talented and speedy a bunch of writers, dang your…oops–was my envy showing?) I originally gained a related cluster of Canadians (is that the proper term–a murder of crows, a cluster of Canadians?) and residents of some nippier U.S. states due ENTIRELY to Michelle at the green study, who not only featured my blog in one of her posts, but gave it blushworthy praise.

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            • M-R

               /  2014/03/30

              I’m Australian,and so is Barbara. 🙂

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            • OH, MY GOODNESS! HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN! and yes, I know I’m shouting. I forgot to give 100% of the credit to Michelle at The Green Study!!! SHE FEATURED MY BLOG!!!

              THAT is what drew people here. That and that alone. I think I had 1 or 2 readers until then.

              And this is why I should never be online after 5PM. There’s a reason they call us lupus people loopy. I’m going to edit that other comment now out of shame.

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            • M-R

               /  2014/03/30

              :green:

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            • i’m just going to slink off to bed now…

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            • M-R

               /  2014/03/30

              Sleep well ! 🙂

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  5. Maggie brought me to your site, and I’m so pleased she did. Your writing is brilliant, your experience horrific, but probably shared by many women.
    Even my first experience of sex at 19, and he was 45, was rape! It is wonderful that you can write and exponge such memories.

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  6. Your very first experience! What a nightmare! And the bastard was that much older! Once again, as with M-R, who commented above, reading this brought tears to my eyes. I also wanted to go back in time and KICK the f#cker, HARD, where it would do the most (permanent) good.

    I think for many girls and women, the first experience is often disappointing–sometimes also a little scary or painful–and that is when we are WILLING. I don’t know how you brought yourself to ever try again. You are much braver than I. What steps did you take to heal?

    I agree that many women–far too many–have experiences like mine, or even yours. I volunteered on a rape and battering hotline for two years and heard some horrific stories from some amazing women survivors.

    Thank you so much for the compliment about my writing! Maggie, who manages to write interesting posts daily, the irksome woman, was a doll to send you my way. I am so glad you came here!

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    • Thank you so much for your sympathetic, thoughtful response. I guess I was just grateful that I wasn’t pregnant and had to admit what had happened! It was something I didn’t admit to anyone, as I thought it must be my fault for putting myself in a position where it could happen… So there was no therapy, just get on with it! Later in life I did a LIfe LIne course, telephone counselling, (like you), and heard amazing stories. I felt one of the lucky ones to have survived as I did.
      Keep writing, it’s a wonderful purgative!

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      • Oh, I’d forgotten about that pregnancy worry…jeez. Well, we both moved on, didn’t we? Interesting that we both worked the phones for others.

        Your profile says you’re a “budding” writer, but you’re already published–that sounds pretty well flowered, to me. Good grief, and M-R got published immediately on her first try. Must be something in the Australian waters (besides everything venomous under the sun)..

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        • A children’s book doesn’t really count! But I did send in another manuscript today, so keep your fingers crossed…. It’s not as easy as it sounds! Those venomous critters are spoken of just to scare people away, we hardly ever see them!

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  7. “a murder of crows, a cluster of Canadians” – I like that – crow is one of my favourite critters, so to be “clustered” with works for me! I’d delighted to see my friends here. And sorry to hear of the same history at the hands of rapists.

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  8. Amy peppermintsea.com

     /  2014/04/19

    Wow, only just seen this… you were not “effed up” but young and inexperienced. I understand your reaction. Take care.

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  9. And I’m catching up on missed comments–thank you, Amy. I hope today’s young women would feel secure enough in themselves to call for help, but just don’t know.

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  10. Yemie

     /  2014/04/28

    Awww! This is so sad! Dunno when and how forcing oneself atop a female’s a romantic show of ‘love’?! To make her change her mind ’bout calling it quits?! That’s downright vile! Randy’s so naïve, or so I want to believe and needs a re-orientation. I’m just so glad he didn’t go ‘psycho’ on you, and just as easily moved on without turning a stalker. So much for ‘love’, eh? I think puling the plugs off of a relationship should be done in a much public place, overflowing with a lotta people to avert an ugly incidence such as this. Loved the writing, the illustrations and even the humor, albeit strangely because this aint funny at all. Oh no, Jose! But thanks a lot for sharing.

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    • Yemie, what is it about your comments that I miss them for so long? And they are always such interesting ones? I had never even thought about what you said, but you are right: IT is sad to have to do this for such a private matter, but girls SHOULD be advised to break up in a public place. It encourages quiet voices and best behavior. Alternately, perhaps we should rethink that whole thing about “Never do it by mail or over the phone.”. There is something good to be said, after all, about a “Dear John” letter or email. It gives the man some dignity, and the woman some safety.

      May I write a little post about this, and refer to you and your comment in it?

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      • Yemie

         /  2014/08/07

        Wow! I’m totally humbled and bowled over O.B! Please by all means, do write a post ’bout this, I’d be mighty honoured! Will be looking forward to reading from you and I’m pretty much waiting on you for the ‘tattler’ piece! I hope you’ve still got that in your ‘to do’ list as far future posts are concerned. Thanks for this dearie, you just made my day a whole lot brighter! hugs LOL

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        • I will add this one to the long list (it will be a short post, I think, but a meaningful one).

          I know why I’ve procrastinated on the last parts of the bullying series. Talk about putting one’s head in the sand:

          (1) I suspected the tattler piece was going to be tricky. Ugh. But I hadn’t even begun! Now that you’ve raised the issue, I’m going to start my research tonight.

          (2) There is some bullying issues personally difficult for me to face. But I need to face them, and writing is the best way for me to do that. It helps me put my past in perspective and learn from it, and walk away from the worst of it.

          Thanks for the gentle “push” 🙂 I will move completion of this series up the list.

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  11. Wow. That’s a painful and honest look at a subject no one ever wants to discuss. Even with a friend, it has such a taboo. We’d rather be seen naked than ask someone whether they’ve been sexually assaulted. Thank you for posting and for giving people a place to open up about their own experiences. Sisters unite.

    Liked by 1 person

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    • Hi, Kiri,

      Thank YOU for heading over here and checking out my pieces.

      I do feel like we women, many (or most) of whom sadly seem to undercut each other often, thanks to our oppression (the result of competition), are more and more uniting and remembering our sisterhood–thanks to our–oppression!

      Until your comment, I had been thinking that the body self-consciousness I’d felt so painfully then–so much that it helped me be raped–was of course a thing of that past that would NEVER cause me a moment of thought were there a future sexual assault.

      But I just realized that’s not true. Oh, I would yell for help. But I would STILL manage to possess enough body shame, thanks to the visual pornography of lies about women we live with (advertising and film), to be aware of every exposed part that didn’t measure up to perfect skin and proportions.

      Do you think for one moment that a male who is sexually assaulted would give one second’s thought to whether he had stretch marks, sagging breasts, cellulite, too flat a backside…

      What a number the “they” have done on us from birth!

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    • This powerful story will help others talk about their own experiences.
      The complexities told so well!

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      • Thank you, Barbara! I just commented on Michelle’s llatest post at The Green Study that, basically, she is a master at this: Examining all sides of an issue and laying them out for the reader.

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      • yes, very well presented.

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      • Amy

         /  2016/01/22

        Case in point. See the crazy lady’s (me) comment below. I really ought to exercise some more “Post Comment” self control. Maybe it’s because when I finally do get around to writing that I’m desperate for it to count so I can’t help myself but post Every. Thing. I. Write. Even self indulgent replies. Edit much, Amy? (Sorry. And, no.)

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        • Ha ha ha! My comments on the blogs of others go on for days, even when there is no good reason, which you DID have, here. Do. not. worry!

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  12. umm…lots of times I skim entries and perhaps leave some well meaning comment…not this time…most victims are angry with unresolved issues and left sniveling blobs of flesh…so all the stereotypical comments don’t fit here…still, it’s real sad you went through this…it’s the Asperger’s syndrome reference…I have problems reading cues…frankly I gave up even trying…i’m single, and ain’t looking. my last relationship I flat out told her, “hey, you tell me when you want to…this worked most of the time and once I got to know her I did relax a bit…still, if I heard “no” i’d stop…even mid-stroke. she split; went gay and has a wife…she is so much happier now…we are still great friends…we’ve known each other for 14yr now…but is Asperger’s related to ADHD,bipolar, and dyleslia ? tests indicate I’ve got issues with the 1st 3 and maybe that’s where my lack of social skills comes from…(bipolar tends to make me sexually hyper)…hell, i’m 52yr old now and it’s mostly moot now…I can use lotion and be just fine…sorry to dump all this on you…blame it on my bipolar.

    Liked by 1 person

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    • ADHD and Asperger’s mix is not uncommon. Dyslexia can happen to anyone, regardless of the rest. Bipolar? Yikes. I hope you are in not only some support groups, but social groups targeted for Aspies. I’m not, ’cause…I’ll blog about that.

      I am lucky. My remaining Aspieness by now is undetectable to almost everyone–except me. I still have difficulty keeping a conversational flow going with normal pacing–I don’t know how to time pauses and appropriate places to come in–same trouble I had with Double-Dutch jumprope. I am better about knowing when to stop talking: When all hope dims from their eyes. Think of the gift of joy I spread by the simple act of saying “Welp–gotta go–Cheers!”

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      • sorta like rapid-fire speech? I blamed my bi-polar for that…no support groups or drugs because I can function and I have pretty decent impulse control…I kinda wonder if all my symptoms are actually some yet undisclosed issue…anyway I don’t qualify for SSI and I don’t like the “disabled” label…yes I can sometimes stop talking…never could jump rope…blind in my right eye…and that’s what I blame. lastly, my mother nearly killed me as a infant…and maybe all that head shaking mixed up the gray matter…oh well, i’m 52 and ain’t gonna find ms. perfect now

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        • There are a d#mn lot of 45-60 year old single women looking for men who are not total jerkwads. Depending upon your drop-dead criteria, you have a chance, sir.

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  13. Amy

     /  2016/01/22

    One week after my 14th birthday (age of “consent”) he wasn’t quite 18 (couldn’t be tried as an adult) left me high and dry for any charges to be pressed. (Not to mention that my parents couldn’t bear the embarrassment; I think this may be what it came down to.) So, humiliation, no counseling, and YOUNG resulted in decades of self loathing and a terrible inability to wrap my self healthily ’round (tee hee) this sex thing. So many of these comments – and your piece notwithstanding – left me teary too. At 42 I feel like I ought to be all properly healed up from so many victimizing experiences. Not to be a poster child for post rape self-destructive behavior, but that experience paved the way for countless more like it. I’m married to a wonderful, patient, caring man… But I still struggle to not lump him in with the rest of the men. (Probably because he is a man.) And I don’t mean to air my laundry here, other than that just yesterday all of this manishness trouble and appalling sex business came back to haunt me in an unexpected moment. No, not a replay of a rape, but just my stupid inability to view sex and it’s companion intimacy as a sensual, sexual, healthy willing-to-be vulnerable woman. How? Ugh. More prayer, more time, more posts like this that force me to take another look and be willing to be honest and face the monsters and so beat them back. Here’s to redemption and hope and solidarity and forgiveness and understanding. Thank you for writing from the other side in such an unapologetic (finally!), authentic, caring, candid voice. I get you and you get me and I’m so much better for the getting. Here’s to love: true love, fleshed out love in all the right expressions of it. (And here’s to fun, right, healthy, not second-guessed sex…) Oh – and I’m so very sorry for you. Sorry for us, but happy for pain and for looking at it in the rear view mirror instead of it coloring an otherwise sunny road ahead.

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    • Oh, Amy…

      “…I don’t mean to air my laundry here…”
      Why the heck not? You are one of us! Your thoughts and feelings are welcome here. We welcome them! I am so sorry for what you suffered. Only 14 years old. There’s a world of difference between 14 and 17. And no support for you from your parents, either. Shame on them–even though they were victims of their time, and upbringing, too, you were their DAUGHTER.

      “I still struggle to not lump him in with the rest of the men. (Probably because he is a man.)”
      Perfectly understandable. I just wrote to
      balletandboxing
      to the effect that 99.9% of men are sh#ts, or, when not, incapable or unwilling to form an fair partnership with a woman. For someone who has had your experiences, you have even more reason for caution, or even fear.

      I loved all your “Here’s to”‘s. Wonderful! I will raise a glass to them, tonight, which is a special night for me in two ways. You have made it a special day for me, too, by making me feel that my words have helped a bit, just as your words have helped me. Thank you, Amy. I will say a prayer for your continued strength.

      –O. Babe

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    • Amy, I’d like to add: Thank God for that small percentage of men who are wonderful, caring, and FAIR partners. Please give your husband an extra hug from me.
      🙂

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      • Amy

         /  2016/01/23

        Good morning, Outlier Babe. You told me a while ago that if ever there was something I felt worthy to share with you that I ought. Worthiness aside (I’ll leave that to you to decide), I did write something last night that relates, I think, to your post and the ensuing conversations it generated. Thought maybe you’d appreciate a teeny bit of closure. (at least for my part) I very much do NOT want to feel hopelessly bitter toward men – especially not towards the one who’s put up with me all these years – for the rest of my life. Don’t want to be bound to bitterness and a lack of intimacy. Anyway, check it out if you have time or the inclination and thanks again for bringing hard things to the surface to be dealt with, looked at, and most hopefully, redeemed by the light that exposes them. “Light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” YES! Oh – I posted it today (I don’t know if that helps) and called it Marriage and vulnerability: together at last (I think that’s what I called it…) Thanks again.

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  1. Intermission | The Zombies Ate My Brains
  2. Snail Mail, Witch Doctor Sex, and Vigilance | The Last Half

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