This is not a blog post i want to write, but i know it will get the poison out of my brain.
I was having 5 minutes to myself on the wall outside work this afternoon, browsing Instagram and squinting at the glaring Sun. I decided to check Timehop (i’m on a 56 day streak currently).
There wasn’t anything of interest for the most part. Old selfies, photos of my dinner at Coast to Coast in 2014, a status about my dream 4 years ago about being in an Olympic Toast Cooking competition (i am pretty good at making toast).
And then i scrolled down to a status from 6 years ago that said “could do with a cuddle plz“.
I’m very lucky in the sense that i don’t suffer flashbacks very often. I wasn’t so lucky today.
My blood was ice in my veins, my entire body froze and i swear it felt like my heart stopped for a few beats.
Such a vague status but i knew exactly what 16 year old me was referring to.
6 years ago was the first time i had sex with a boy.
6 years ago was the first time my ‘no’ was ignored.
Even now i think it sounds a lot worse than it was. I don’t call it rape because it started out consenting (although i didn’t consent because i fancied him or i wanted to have sex with him, i did it to try and make somebody else happy).
He wasn’t a horrible old man who had groomed me, or a terrifying guy using threats and physical strength.
He was a skinny teenage boy who had a crush on me.
I came across his Facebook about a year ago. He has a long term girlfriend and they both seem very happy. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had told her the story of how he lost his virginity, if his version was different from mine.
I’m positive he never thought anything of it. I can’t imagine he went home thinking he had just sexually assaulted somebody.
He didn’t rape me and yet i feel sick when people share their “losing their virginity” stories. But he was just a teenager like me.
He didn’t rape me and yet my stomach clenches and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up whenever he comes up as a suggested friend to add. But we had both consented to have sex.
He didn’t rape me but i told him no and pleaded with him to wait for a minute because it hurt so much and he snapped at me and reminded me of the whole reason i had agreed to it and carried on. But he was right that i was supposed to be doing it for a reason and that reason was important to me at the time, important enough to disregard my virginity.
I’m still making excuses for him even now because rape is such a strong word and i don’t feel like i can categorize what happened to me as being the same as women and girls who get dragged off the streets or abused by family members for years.
6 years ago i lost part of myself.
6 years later, i’m still not sure that i’ve found it.