I was 14 years old.It was three of them. I knew them. Well. Under a false pretense they talked me into going somewhere private. I had no reason to think there would be a problem.... I knew them. I fought they won, even had the nerve to walk me home. My dad knew something was up because they had never done that before. I took a bath.
They bragged. I lost friends, left school, prosecuted, they got sent up. I've lived with it for 23 years. That's what makes me a survivor. I am still here 23 years later. I have endured the comments of people that claim there's no such things as rape. Anytime three people that are much bigger and stronger than you beats you till you can't do anything but cry..... you are being raped. I've accepted that people will make some benign comment and not understand why I reacted so strongly to something that they don't see that seriously. I 've come to understand that I am never going to be 100% free of that nagging little voice that tells me that I was stupid to go in the first place. I've cried because of the hopeless and helpless look I saw in my father's eyes knowing that doing what he wanted to do would mean he wouldn't be there to protect me. AND knowing that he questioned his ability to protect me in the first place as if he was the one responsible.
And lastly, I've gotten used to the sorrowful and pitying looks I get from people when and if I share this story with them. I am someone's daughter, sister, mother and aunt. I'm their baby cousin that they only see twice a month even tho they live right next door. I used to be a rape victim. Now I am just a woman who has earned the right to enjoy her life the best way she sees fit. I have also learned the wisdom of knowing that sometimes someone just won't understand all that. I also live with the horror of knowing somewhere out there someone can. . For all the true survivors.