January 17th was one year since I was raped. I wrote a prelude to my story, yet never wrote the full text. Now seems like the perfect time to close this chapter of my story. This year, on January 17, I was on a plane to see Profligacy. On January 15, I ran into The Redneck for the first time in over 6 months. I’m talking about rape culture on the blog. And I’m ready to get it all out of me.
I’ve run into The Redneck a few times since he raped me. But he was asked not to come back to The Bar over 6 months ago, and up until the other night, he hadn’t. His reason from being banned from somewhere that he had been a regular, and friends with the bartender, was partially because he owed money and partially because of what he did to me. When I went in on Friday night and saw him there, I yelled at the bartender. I had called before coming in. “You didn’t tell me he was here!” Her face was confused, and then she realized. “I had totally forgotten about that!” Funny how quickly other people forget about that stuff. Later in the night, a very good friend of mine came in, and when I refused to move to a table with him and The Redneck, he asked why I couldn’t just “get over that.” Other people forget easier than I do.
I’ve had people that I thought were my friends blame me for what happened. The fact that I dated him at all ruined any chance I had ever had for The Bruiser to get back together with me. I still have nightmares about it. I have flashbacks if people come up behind me the wrong way, or with the wrong tone. I don’t trust people that I’ve known for years to sleep in a bed with me and not hurt me. I’ve had flashbacks while fucking Profligacy. I’m affected by it, and I probably always will be.
I’ve been afraid to write the whole story down here for others to read, because I’m so afraid that people will blame me. *I* know it wasn’t my fault. But I also know that I made stupid choices that night, and put myself in a stupid situation. And after all the people that wrote posts about how Amy Dickinson had a point in telling the rape victim that she was partially at fault, that people should take responsibility for their actions, I partially expect(ed) the same response here. I *do* accept responsibility for the fact that I made bad decisions that night. But I will never blame myself for what happened. And anyone here to leave a comment along those lines might as well bite their tongue, because I’m not tolerating victim blaming on my blog.
And with that, here’s what happened.
WARNING: POST MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME.
**************************
Friday afternoon, I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t do the math to figure out that it couldn’t be The Redneck’s. He was my most recent partner; my overwhelmed and panicked mind assumed it was his. I immediately knew I wasn’t keeping it and I wasn’t having it. And so I coped the only way I knew how: I drank. I got drunk Friday night, and Saturday, too. Saturday evening, I was at my house, and drunk. The Redneck texted me, which was odd. He’d broken up with me the week before. Pregnant girl + drunk + text from person pregnant, drunk girl thinks is baby daddy = ill advised choices.
I called back. He said, “Come over! We’re all hanging out!” My mom knew I couldn’t drive, but knew who The Redneck was, and didn’t see a problem with me going over there. So she drove me there. Unbeknownst to me, The Redneck had spent the day on his boat, and was just as drunk as me. I found that out once I was already there. Drunk Britni didn’t see the storm coming, and instead of calling my mom to come back and get me, Drunk Britni did what Drunk Britni always does: asked for booze. And so, I got a bottle of champagne. And I drank. The Redneck was being cruel, brutal, and mean. I could only take so much verbal abuse before Drunk Britni yelled, “I’m pregnant, you asshole! I came over here to tell you I’m fucking pregnant!”
Cruel, mean, and brutal suddenly became caring and concerned. He tried to take my booze. I assured him I was getting an abortion that Monday, and didn’t need a dime from him, thankyouverymuch. I continued drinking my champagne, straight from the bottle. Classy broad, I was. Caring and concerned Redneck didn’t last long. He went back to being cruel, mean, and brutal. By the time I realized I needed to leave, my phone was dead and everyone in the house was too drunk to drive. So I was stuck. Then he spent over an hour on the phone talking to the girl he had dumped me for. And I got angry, as I sat inside with his friends, and we all knew who he was talking to. I felt pathetic. He came back in the house, and went on and on and on, in front of 3 of his friends, about how much better The New Girl was than me. He listed off reasons why she was better, and why I wasn’t good enough.
And that’s when I snapped. Drunk Britni put forth a challenge: “If you like her as much as you say you do, if you’re as serious about her as you claim to be, then you won’t fuck me right now.” Of course he fucked me! The sex was 100% consensual. Until he got me flat on my stomach, fucking me from behind. I felt him trying to enter my ass, and knowing he was drunk, I joked about him going in the wrong hole. He kept trying. I tried to get away. His forearm found the back of my neck, pushing my face into the bed. I tried reminding him that anal was one of my only hard limits, while trying to break free. I couldn’t move. He had me pinned.
That’s when he leaned down and growled into my ear, “It’s going in your ass, whether you like it or not.” He’d made his intention clear. Consent was no longer a concern to him. And he entered my ass, his forearm on my neck, me crying into his bed. And it hurt. No lube, no consent. It hurt more than just physically. After a few thrusts, I managed to break free and curled up into a ball on his floor, sobbing. “What’s the matter with you?,” he demanded.
“You just RAPED me! Don’t you know that?” Well, that angered him. He yelled. How dare I accuse him of rape! My phone was dead. I had no car. I walked out to the couch, laid down, and tried to sleep. I was too numb to cry that night, I think. I drifted in and out of sleep. A few hours after laying down, I woke up to The Redneck jerking off onto my leg. Apparently, that was what “[I] got” for not “finishing [him] earlier.” I didn’t move, just praying he would finish quickly and leave me alone. He finished, I washed off in the bathroom while sobbing, feeling even more violated then I already had, and went back to the couch. That was like rubbing salt into my wound, and the jerking off onto my leg upset me almost as much as being anally raped.
The next morning, he acted like nothing had happened. He gave me a ride back to my house, stopping to drive through McDonald’s on the way. I cried myself to sleep that night. And the next day, a very good friend took me to get my abortion, and paid for it in full. Without his help, just like I’d told him. And it’s a good thing, since it turned out not to be his, anyway.
Yes, I made some bad decisions that night. Yes, I was drunk. Yes, I had consensual sex with him. But what ended up happening was NOT what I consented to, and it wasn’t my fault. And by telling my story, I officially go from rape victim to rape survivor.
Hopefully, this chapter is now closed, as much as it ever will be.
Photo sources.
I'm Britni, a snarky bitch and generally awesome person. I write about sex, love, and bullshit. If sex-positivity, discussions about BDSM and kink, queer issues, and topics that are completely inappropriate by society's standards make you uncomfortable, then this blog is not for you.
Good Vibes 
22 Comments
Speechless. Breathtaking, powerful truth.
Hugs.
E
I'm speechless, too. I'm so glad that you're moving from victim to survivor, and that you are no longer involved with the Redneck in any way.
You are so strong.
And I'm glad you're not allowing victim-blaming, at least on this post. That has NO BUSINESS here.
I'm so sorry that you had to experience such a violent crime.
Am I very naive to find this surreal? It is so far outside my experience, outside of any of my intuitions about how people act.
But I thinks its very good that you both accept responsibility for what you didn't, making you more than "just a victim" and do not blame yourself, for while you might have shown bad judgment, it was him who transgressed the moral border. It is him with whom the blame lies.
And I can imagine the difficulty in talking about this. So you deserve that those who love you be proud of you. Including you.
I don't know what else to say except that I'm sorry this happened to you, and I think it's brave & productive that you told the story here and continue to educate your readers on DV and rape.
But your saying that you would have gotten out of there had it not been for a dead cell phone prompts me to want to tell every woman to have an emergency cell phone battery with her. One of the battery companies makes this instant charger that's essentially another battery I guess, you just plug it into your phone wherever you are and you have a working phone.
You are so amazing for writing this.
I hope this helped you while you were writing it and also that it will help other women who have been victims of rape.
Thank you. I have finally come to terms enough to talk about what happened to me, but I have yet to write it. Somehow that turns the memories from 'reciting a movie you know by heart' to 'reality', and that is something I am not ready to do. I admire your strength and your decision to not back down, and not to be blamed. Thank you for speaking out where so little can begin to speak up.
Hubman, criticizing me for not reporting it is victim blaming of another sort. The number of rapes that go unreported is staggering.
Let's see what kind of case I had to take to the police:
I was drunk.
The sex was consensual.
We had been dating.
It would have been a he said/she said case. And I'm the slut, for getting drunk and fucking him, so who can blame him for thinking he could do that, right? Because that's what the case would have come down to. His lawyer making me out to be some drunken slut.
There was no basis to file a case on, and why fight something that I have virtually no chance of winning, and that the police wouldn't have taken seriously?
Don't criticize victims for not reporting our rapes.
It sounds to me that you were in an incredibly vulnerable position…wanting to prove yourself valuable and desired by this "man". And he took advantage of it. And then he raped you. Of course it isn't your fault. I'm very sorry this happened to you, I'm very sorry people try to blame it on you, and I'm very sorry you were so taken advantage of, it was a rape of not only your body, but your emotions and your trust. I'm….just so sorry.
Good for you Brit.
And I love the top photo you used in this post. It’s brilliant.
I've not commented before though I've been reading sporadically for a little while.
Beautiful and powerful post. And everything you say is true. I made stupid choices, too, also alcohol-fueled. I also went to his place willingly, did other consensual sex acts with him. I also was emotionally messed up due to my pregnancy, though my abortion was already complete (this first time I had sex afterward ends up non-consensual… Nice.)
But like you, I cannot blame myself. And like you, I don't regret not reporting it. If he raped again, that's on him, not me. I took care of myself the best way I knew how.
I can tell you that though I've never forgotten the rape, the triggers and memories are far less frequent now, 19 years later. Good triggers and memories have replaced them. I can count the number of times I think about it in a year on one or two hands instead of not being able to count the number of times per day. It's then I thank the alcohol for somewhat numbing my memories.
I commend you for speaking about it, for telling the story and for standing up for yourself as a survivor.
You are incredibly strong. And you know it. ((you))
peace…
I think you are brave for putting this story out there and so strong to be able to be a survivor.
As for people who can't understand why you aren't over it – that is the most ignorant thing I've ever heard and I'm sorry that you have to put up with that attitude.
(big hug) – thanks for sharing and the courage you have to move forward in your own way. I dated a girl in college that had been raped as a teenager (by a teacher no less). I have experienced first hand the courage required. May you continue to grow and heal and find happiness Brit!
I'm glad you are able to talk about this finally. No one deserves to have things happen to them, and they especially don't deserve to be blamed for them. It does no one any good to go over the shoulda, woulda, coulda's because it doesn't change what happened.
*internet hugs*
Hearing other people say that it's the victim's fault in rape is truly disgusting. Especially when they start pulling in other things to classify it as rape (ie. drunkenness, where you were at, etc) If there's no consent, it's rape. Simple as that.
Glad to know that you are so strong and fighting to keep your head high
kitty<3
Hubman, the criticism was implied in a not-so-cleverly disguised question.
You did fine a police report, right? Otherwise he gets away with rape and just might do the same thing to someone else.
And your "defensive much?" isn't helpful as a response to this serious topic. She shouldn't have to defend either her actions during or after to you or anyone else.
Britni, as you can see, I deleted my prior comments. I failed to state what I was trying to say properly and it was misread, understandably, as a criticism of what you did after the rape.
Hey. Just wanted to echo the general consensus that you rock for writing this. I know that I have gone from horrified and embarrassed to able to talk about certain fucked up experiences I've been through, and I believe that it helps not only the person it happened to, but the people who hear it and become less ashamed and self-blaming about what happened to them. So kudos, my friend.
Sometimes it takes me a while to get to blog posts I know deserve my full attention. I starred this one and finally read it tonight. I'm so sorry for what happened to you – and you're right that you are not at fault. Regardless of your state of drunkeness, regardless if the sex began as consensual, this was rape and he had no right to continue after you told him to stop.
I can relate to not reporting – I was sexually assaulted at a play party with a speculum (by the party host, a sex blogger no less but one whose sun has set). How could I go to the police with something that started off consensual – and at a sex party? Thankfully the counseling I finally sought out a couple of months after was given by someone who wouldn't victim blame at all.
Nadia
I’ve never commented on your blog before, and I feel weird to comment now on something you posted almost half a year ago, but I want to thank you SO much for sharing this. Something extremely similar happened to me during a fight with my boyfriend at the time. For years I convinced myself that while it was cruel and it was horrible, because it was not vaginal, it was not rape. I still get nauseous when people approach me unexpectedly from behind and I haven’t been able to bring myself to have sex in the 8 years since this happened, but still, when it happens in a situation where you’ve given socially implicit consent, like in a relationship or during consensual vaginal intercourse, not many people are willing to treat it as rape. Thank you for sharing this incredibly personal story and helping women like me acknowledge and accept the fact that what happened to us WAS rape so we can face it, deal with it and hopefully one day move on.
One Trackback
[...] I’ve shared the story of my rape. [...]