Faking it, Making it.

So somehow I was able to not only survive but overcome my ordeal. I compartmentalize things in order to deal with them. I am ambitious and tenacious. I refused to allow what happened to me to control the direction of my life. I called the police. I made the report and left a contact number in case they needed me to help out a fellow woman. However, I refused to press charges or continue contact with the police. I had a plan for my life before that and it’s going to be the same after the rape. I refuse to allow some asshole dictate the direction of my life. It did not include going to court to repeat to the world the heinous things that happened to me. I drank a little bit more for a second. Then I grew some God Damn ladyballs. I sat myself down and had to really reflect on it. I got in touch with a rape specialist. I love her dearly. And I made the conscious decision that I was going to do everything in my power to keep this event in my life from changing me for the worse, damaging me and my family, my friends. I talked to my friends and my family. I let them know the grisly details. I didn’t want my moodiness or freak outs to affect them. I deal with everything in facts. It;s easier that way. Just state exactly what occurred. No more, no less. Then provide your opinions and feelings. This may not be the “right” way of handling traumatic events but I have found when you focus on the facts it’s easier to accept the feelings. I acknowledge my feelings but I can reason with facts. My boss at the time, right after it happened. Touched me. I freaked out. I knocked things over, started to shake, cry and panic. I felt better when I let her know the facts. It was not my fault but I was raped. Plain and simple. My reaction was clearly an autonomic response. I was touched. My body reacted with fight or flight. I had no control. Those are simply the facts. It was not my fault and therefore I hold no responsibility for my reaction. It’s the same as my heart beating quickly or my breath catching when running. My body thought it was in danger again. It was saving me. And for that I am grateful. It means my body is alive and working properly.

Since then I have devoted myself to my family and school entirely. I received an invitation from the college after Thanksgiving to join their Honors Program. I had achieved a 3.75 GPA in my first semester back after 10 years. My mother decided I should have sole custody of my daughter that I had at 16. We currently share custody and my daughter resides with her. It’s a story for another day. Monday was our first day back. I accepted a job at the school as a school ambassador for advising. I’m taking 3 Honors Program Classes and 2 program requirements. Today I was officially invited to join Phi Theta Kappa. For those of you who do not know what this is it is a Greek chapter for the National Honor Society. You must have a 3.5 GPA and be invited to join. I look forward to the many opportunities this should bring. My parents never graduated from college and I have a set of 3. 6 parents that never reached their goals. I reached one today by accepting my invitation to Phi Theta Kappa.

My post right now is for those of you going through any sexual assault, hard times or questioning life. You are strong. You are worthy. You can do anything you want to do. You can be anything you want to be. Your past DOES NOT make your future. And more importantly that you are WELCOME to deal with your life, your trauma, your obstacles in the way that best fits you. Professionals can say what they will, your family and friends can give you advice and society can push you into guilt for your decision but you do not need to do anything you do not want to do. You need to do what works best for you. I recognize that I need professional guidance. If I don’t connect with her I can find someone else I feel more trust in. She helps me find my zen. I don’t feel like a burden to her. However, if you’re not ready for that you’re not ready. Therapy only works when one is willing. Do not let anyone push you into anything that hurts. But I implore you, do not let drugs or alcohol become your solution because I’ve been there too and I’m still trying to recover while I drown.

Love .

Billie

The Dangers Of Tinder Dating

I came here because I became a brutal statistic Sunday morning. I went on a Tinder date Saturday night. It was wonderful. He was everything I was dreaming and hoping for. He said all the right things and made me feel all the right things. I was smart and told everyone where I was going and what I was doing. I even made arrangements with a girlfriend prior to going that if anything felt weird that I could call her and she would rescue me. Everything was set. I was confident. I had the best time. I was swept off my feet. I’m 30 years old. He is 21. What do I did I have to be afraid of right? I’m worldly and experienced. I’m very intelligent and pretty. I work hard and I’m going to school full time. I deserved this chance to blow off some steam. I have 2 kids ages 14 and 7. I’m a good mother. I’m a good daughter, sister, friend and co-worker. I was so excited. It had been a long time since I had accepted a date out with anyone but I had really liked this one. Ironically his name was name backwards. I was named after my grandfather, my grandfathers name was William Joseph. I was named Billie Jo. So the day of the date my sister, cousin and I rushed around and picked up things to get me ready.

 

That night he aligned himself with me when I panicked when I misunderstood the changes in our schedule. I thought we were just going out for drinks. He told me only I would be drinking. So I began to panic. I thought he just wanted to get me drunk. He assured me that it was because he wanted to take me to a tower out of town and needed to drive. So we went there. I’m grateful now that it was locked. It was a very steep tower in the woods. We came back for another drink. Then went mini golfing. And for more drinks. Then to meet his friends for a birthday. His friends had placed a bet on me. He had won apparently. At this point he convinced me to go home with him. I wish now that I had not. I did like him at this point but if I hadn’t I would have saved myself from the next mornings wrath. The whole night he is telling me how he is thankful I have decided to stay and that I am not like other girls and didn’t plan on planning on spending the night (he checked my car for bags). When we got to his house he insisted I take my hair out and remove all of my makeup and take all of my own clothes off. He prefers that girls are all completely natural of anything extra to “help” them. He was really scornful to find out that I work for Ulta and actually found out when he made fun of one of our commercials on the radio and I said I worked there.

 

That night he was wonderful. He kept begging me to promise me to come back. He couldn’t figure out why girls never come back. I was about to find out. At that point I couldn’t understand myself. Why wouldn’t anyone want to come back here? We watched a stupid funny movie together after having a great night. He paid for everything for me without me ever reaching for the receipt. I’ve gone out on dates with men a decade older than him than would have made me pay for half of everything the whole night! I just couldn’t believe my luck! This guy wanted me! I was ready to do whatever he wanted at this point. He was smart and handsome too. A double finance major with a few minor degrees sprinkled in. And I’m pretty sure he was living on his daddy’s life insurance money. He never mentioned a job. Just a lot of vacations and that his dad passed away a year ago. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry?

 

Skip to the next morning and the sex has turned to fun and consensual to omfg he’s going to rip my fucking head off. I don’t know what happened to him. It’s like over night he forgot he liked me and decided he really fucked hated me and himself and I was going to pay for that shit. He dug his nails into my back and my neck and my face. I’ve never had anyone dig their fingers into my face when trying to keep my “screams” quiet. Or grip their fingers into my throat around my windpipe to clench it shut. I told him he was scaring me and he was being way more rough that morning that he was the night before. At one point he dug his fingers into my left breast so tight and twist I cried out that he was hurting me but he just said I liked it. He would pinch and twist my nipples so hard I would tear up. Bite them beyond any pain I’ve felt. I’ve breast fed and even my children have not bit them that hard. There were points I would grab his hands and arms and yell at him to stop but it would just fuel him and it seemed to get worse each time I did that. The sodomy was the worst. I let him just a little to appease him but then he just slammed his way in anyway. Angry it wasn’t enough.

 

The continual blow jobs was annoying. He was constantly slamming my head into him and pulling onto my hair. Acting as if I owed him because he was some sort of God because of how good he was to me the night before. He kept reminding me of this. I felt obligated.

 

Due to all of this I wasn’t sure what happened to me. Was I raped? Was I assaulted? Was I attacked? I knew that something bad had happened to me but I just wasn’t sure what. I’m still not sure what or what to do about it. I just don’t want it to happen to anyone else. I pray that it hasn’t happened to any other girl out there but I’m sure I can’t be there first one. But maybe my story can help someone not feel alone. Feel validated because I’ve sure as hell felt lost these last few days.