I was raped.

I admit, I flirted.  I flirt with everyone.

The brother in law asked at one point to see my breasts.  I told him no.

The more alcohol I consumed the I lost my inhibitions and I continued to flirt and make my usual outrageous, shock value statements all for a laugh.  At one point I announced “I do what ever Daddy tells me.”  As anticipated my comment met with a boisterous round of laughter.

More and more wine was consumed.  Whenever I’ve been to this house, the wine tends to flow freely and I can honestly say, I am never as intoxicated as those time’s when I’ve been there.  This was another one of those times.

He continued his seduction.  I continued to turn him down.  I told him no.  I asked “what about your wife?”  I said “You’re married”.  None of this seem to deter his determination.

He finally found the opportunity to take advantage of me. He was having a smoke and said “Come here”.  So I went. It was an opportunity to give him shit about smoking. Did I flirt?  yes.  I asked him about his wife again.  Same as I had all evening. What happened after that is a blur.  I remember my dress being pulled down and his mouth on my breasts. He opened the basement door and lead me in to the pitch black darkness. I remember feeling the cold concrete on my back and moving my hand down and feeling his hair as his face was between my legs.  I have a flash of him penetrating me several times – again in a flash. I remember standing in a corner of the storage room where I assumed this took place, looking for the door to get out.  He turned on the light and said this way.

I walked out and found the stairs.  I walked up the stairs and was greeted by a woman I knew. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder scolding me “I can’t believe you fucked him”.  I was in a complete daze at this point.  She told me I was going home and I agreed, I just needed my keys.

She walked me to my keys and then to the door. I saw my friend on the couch in a huff.  They blamed me.  They thought this was my fault.

The next morning I woke up full of shame. What the hell did I do last night? How could I let this happen to me?

I received a scornful text message from my now former friend. She has cut me out of her life.

I am fortunate to have a wonderful support system.  My husband, close friends, and a wonderful therapist.  I have a friend in PA studying psychology and getting his masters to become a Licensed Professional Counselor.  As I outlined for him what had happened, he replied “that’s rape”.

“Really?”  My jaw dropped.  He explained to me that yes, it was indeed rape.  I turned the man down all night and he took advantage of me when my mental capacity was compromised.  I was raped. This was his fault. Not mine.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.  Oh my god I was raped. It was not like I had been taught.  I thought rape was a violent crime, not one of predatory seduction.  That was him.  A predator.  He couldn’t get what he wanted earlier so he waited until he had the chance, preying on an alcohol impaired woman.

Now it’s my time to heal.

It started with the decision to stop drinking.  I poured the wine in my fridge down the drain.

I’ve filed a complaint with the local authorities.  If he’s done this to me, he’s done it to others.

Now I am off to visit my therapist.  It’s time to work thru the details and cry through the pain.