The Perfect Rape Victim

24 Apr

Brute physical force – a “real rape victim” goes through it (courtesy of

A real rape victim deserves justice. Every other wannabe victim is just crying rape.

A real rape victim is female. She is pretty, pure, most likely heterosexual (maybe also middle class, white, and a born-again Christian) and she has never had any kind of sexual contact with anyone, ever, before she is raped.

A real rape victim’s rapist is a total stranger. The rapist is depraved, looks like Gollum, probably does drugs, probably is an ex-con, lives in the bushes and under bridges, and targets pretty girls who happen to be outside alone after dark. He never gets sex unless he forces women into it.

A real rape victim screams and fights back when she is attacked. She is not paralyzed with fear, or muted by a strong hand over her mouth, a knife to her neck, or alcohol/drugs in her system. Even if those conditions threaten her survival, a real rape victim perseveres and screams and fights as hard as she can, because she knows that this is how one determines the difference between consensual sex and rape.

A real rape victim is beaten viciously by her depraved stranger rapist. Her rape is traumatic because it’s physically painful.

A real rape victim knows to report her assault immediately after she survives being raped. She is not hesitant to tell her family and friends, because she knows she doesn’t have to fear judgment – she was a real rape victim, and she is entitled to support. She is not hesitant to tell the police any detail about her rape, because she knows she doesn’t have to be ashamed – she was a real rape victim, and her rapist is the only one responsible for her attack.

A real rape victim’s rapist goes to jail for his crime. He serves a long and hefty sentence, which is more proof that the rape was real, not just sex falsely reported as rape. A real rape victim is applauded for her bravery.

A real rape victim is supported all throughout her recovery. She is offered counseling and the best treatment for the nightmare she suffered. Her story is media-worthy. Her story may inspire books and movies based on a true story. All of society is on her side.

A real rape victim lives happily ever after … in a perfect world.

A “real rape victim” is insanely rare in the real world.

In the real world, rape victims are male, female, young, old, all skin colors, all ethnic backgrounds, all religious backgrounds, all economic backgrounds, married, single, divorced, LGBTQ … and so are their rapists. The rapes that these victims suffer are just as varied and nuanced. Maybe that’s why they’re overlooked, disqualified, and dismissed – they’re just too hard to classify.

Sigh. If only I had been a real rape victim.



My Rapist Added Me on Facebook

13 Apr
I haven’t been the most faithful blogger. I have a lot to catch up on here, and many loose ends to tie.
I thought I’d log in just to vent.
My idiot loser limp-d*** rapist had the nerve to send me a friendship request on Facebook an hour ago.
Every year he does something like this, maybe trying to be cute – who knows what goes through that animal’s mind. Last year he mentioned my birthday on Twitter. The year before, he sent me an e-mail notifying me about an apartment available in the area.
I will not friend you on a boat.
I will not friend you, f***ing goat.
I do not like your f***ing spam.
Go die in a fire.
Maybe do something novel, like move on with your life, forget my name, and marry the horse face that I hear you got engaged to since I exposed your rape confession, N. You could even end this legal battle we’re fighting and be gracious enough to settle so that I can move on with my life, instead of stalking me all over the web like you’re clearly doing. Tell everyone at your church to stop trying to contact me, too.
Who am I kidding? I know you won’t stop until I inevitably win the lawsuit and shut you and your rape sanctuary (I mean, church) down forever. Until that delicious day arrives:

Dating after Rape (Part 1 of My Ongoing Diary)

30 Jan

Guys and girls can be just friends… (courtesy of

The dilemma starts two nights ago, when I was formally, politely asked to be kissed by a man that I’ve known since university. Now let me backtrack, because it’s been so long since I’ve updated this blog that I’ll lose us both in the story if I’m not careful.

How far back into the past should I go? You may have read about the first and second time that I was raped already. I’ve also written about trying to move on from my experiences, but that was more than a year ago – talk about procrastination! I guess it’s best to tell you first about when I met this guy. There’s already a “J”, so I’ll call the new one ‘Jay’. Just keep in mind that, so far, he’s the good version. And really, he’s the first version – I met ‘Jay’ about a year or two before J.

The Story

Jay and I were introduced through a mutual female friend, and my one and only “hippie summer” followed after that. As I remember it, Jay along with three other friends of ours and myself ended up spending every single day together, going to outdoor concerts and festivals, hitting the clubs at night, and being wild, carefree and crazy in general. (I think most people have one of those epic summers during their high school years, but I told you I was a late bloomer!) It was strictly platonic between us all. Though I found Jay attractive, I knew he had a girlfriend spending her summer outside of the country, and I enjoyed Jay’s company so I rarely thought of him beyond that level. I taught him to dance; he taught me to play pool.

After the summer ended, it was back to business as usual. Jay and I said hi when we ran into each other outside of classes, but being in separate programs of study, that didn’t happen often. He kept up with me on Myspace first (remember Myspace?!) and then Facebook, he sent me an e-mail or text message now and again – and  he gradually fell into the background of my life. I lost my stepfather to cancer, got kicked out by my mother, got involved with J, ran away to a different city, got involved with N, and have been picking up the pieces of what N did since then. My college days weren’t exactly at the forefront of my memory.

Jay kept writing, however, and when I told him that I had moved back to my hometown (after reaching my limit with N and the church’s torment), he started to call. When he found out about the second rape (he had deactivated his Facebook account, but one of our mutual friends told him about everything I posted online), Jay was supportive and wanted me to pursue justice – like my good friend B. But sometimes I would get inexplicably irritated by Jay being optimistic when I just wanted to be left alone and miserable. I fought with him a few times over stupid things – I know they were stupid because I can’t remember what they were now – and then we had a big blowout where I called him everything but sincere and cut Jay out of my life. I ignored his text messages some times, and other times I would be civil but distant. I felt like no man could be trusted, and going forward I thought I didn’t want any “friends” at all – male or female – just the family members that I could trust. That was around the time of this post.

Okay, So … Explain the Kiss?

In September (2012), Jay called me out of the blue asking if I wanted to see a movie. I figured that was harmless enough and went. Jay paid for the movie, we had some upbeat conversation on the way home, and the fight never came up. I didn’t think about him again until a few months ago, when Jay called again to see how I was doing. Long story made short, we went out for coffee (well, lattes in my case – I don’t like coffee). We hung out a few more times, and slowly began to talk about how dumb we both felt we acted in the past – me for fighting his friendship, and Jay for assuming that I could heal myself in a day. Two nights ago, before Jay took a trip overseas that he’d been planning for a year, he invited me over to watch movies, he made us dinner, and that was when Jay asked if it would be okay with me if he kissed me. Normally, asking permission would be strange to me, but in context of what’s happened in the past, I thought it was the greatest courtesy he could give me. So I said yes. And it was … nice.

Now What?

In a way, though, I’m relieved that Jay’s going to be out of town until March.

  1. I realize that I had big, BIG issues with trust. Though I met Jay before life started going haywire, I’m having a hard time not wanting to dock him several points just because he’s male. I know Jay, but I don’t know know Jay – does that make any sense? I don’t know what’s truly in his heart, and how to know that he’ll be different from my experiences.
  2. I think that because Jay is single, has been single for about a year, and has been acting sort of ‘date-y’, that his intention is move us out of a platonic relationship into a dating one. I’m not sure how I feel about that, if that’s what’s going on. Jay is still attractive, we still get along terrifically, I used to think it could be nice to date him, but … yeah, I’m not sure that I’m excited to try it now. I’ve gotten very comfortable with being alone, although I know that nobody can hide from civilization forever. Somebody somewhere out there is going to try to get to know you, somehow.
  3. The kiss was nice, but I was excited and uncomfortable (by Jay’s closeness) at the same time. Maybe I’m not ready to be kissed even after all this time – or maybe it’s a normal reaction to physical intimacy after going through rape?
  4. Is Jay going to look forward to kissing every time we see each other now? I can’t figure out if that’s good or bad.
  5. What if sex comes up? I think I’d run and never look back. The idea of having sex again turns my stomach.
  6. I’m comfortable with Jay and hanging out at his place, but I don’t want to let him into my place for some reason. And I don’t want to be hanging out at his place all the time – just in case.
  7. I kind of miss Jay’s company, already.

I’m trying to get back into counseling, I know I’ll need the support – but for now I only have this blog. What has been your experience with dating after being assaulted? Does anyone have any advice to share?

I’ll post updates to my story as they come. Thanks for reading, and happy belated new year! I wish you all a recovered and revitalized life in 2013!

A Letter to My Rapist

20 Aug

Dear N,

I’ve been missing in action for so long that I know you thought I was gone for good. You never hesitate to tell the world when you think you’ve won. I’m sorry to disappoint you this time.

It took me quite a while – almost 2 years to be exact – but I’m back. And just like I promised, I’m armed with the truth and ready for war.

Remember when you were driving me home, after you held me in place and got your sexual jollies out of me on that cold cut of wooden table, and I screamed that you should have killed me? I meant it, but back then it was for a different reason. Because of what you did to me, I wanted to die. I used to pray every night that I would go to sleep and stay that way. I kept breathing, every day feeling angrier than the day before because my prayer went unanswered.

Today, I’m so glad I told you those words, because I’m alive with blood boiling in my veins, and you are finally, finally going to be made to regret the terrible things you did to me. You’re going to remember my name one more time. When everything is said and done and your life and reputation lie in ruins around you – just like you did to me – you will sorely wish that on the day you raped me, you used some of your perverted strength to put me in the ground. That instead of handing me my skirt and driving me home, you beat me to death or drove me off a cliff. Because you left me alive, God has avenged me.

I would do anything to be around on the day that you get the sheet of paper that tells you I’m back – but you can imagine me sitting at home with a bowl of popcorn and a smile instead.

Thank you for giving me the most satisfying moment of my life.

Until we meet again,


Moving On from Rape is Easier Said than Done

6 Dec

Remember this girl from season 5 of American Idol? It was the one where Taylor Hicks, the one who bore a slight resemblance to Jay Leno, won. About a month ago, you couldn’t tell me her single below wasn’t my theme song:

and not because of the music, but the lyrics:

I’m over your hands,
and I’m over your mouth.
Trying to drag me down,
and fill me with self-doubt.

Moving on, it’s my time,
you never were a friend of mine.
Hurt at first, a little bit,
but now I’m so over.
I’m so over it..

Don’t call,
don’t come by,
ain’t no use,
don’t ask me why,
you’ll never change,
there’ll be no more crying in the rain.

I took a break from my new blog back in September for an emergency trip I had to make, got lazy, and weeks after I returned I missed blogging. To be honest, though, I wasn’t in a hurry to come back. :-s

Hear (Read?) Me Out

I mentioned yesterday that I was struggling with time management, which is true. A lot has changed for me between September and now. I got involved with an attorney. I did some more “spring cleaning” down my list of friends and got rid of a few so-calleds who claimed to support me, but really were just loving the E.A. is Falling Apart Show. In October I found a new job that I actually like, where I get along with my co-workers and the pay is great. I’ve even started creatively writing again, something that I used to love and lost interest in after the incidents of last year. Thoughts of being raped didn’t take up so much of my day. Compare this all to, say, July 2011: nursing wounds from my church community, running with not much more than a suitcase and the contents in my wallet to my mother for support and getting none, dumped by the criminal justice system, nowhere to go, no hope for the future, lots of rage.

Finally, I’m through with this shit! I had myself convinced. I’d come back to the blog from time to time to approve comments, but I put off replying to a few. I thought, “well…I’m kind of in a different head space these days. Things are looking up for me. It wouldn’t be genuine of me to keep posting when I’m pretty sure I’m over being raped.” But I noticed while I was away that my number of blog hits really grew. People were typing terms like “i was raped” and “fran drescher rape” into search engines and reaching this tiny unfinished blog. They reminded me of when I used to wake up every morning already in tears. I felt guilty that I had nothing to say.

Rape: The Gift That Keeps on Giving

Then, yesterday happened. My half-sister C, one of the relatives who lives in the city where I met N, called to say hi. We had always been close, and C stuck by my side when she found out what happened. At one point in our conversation, C mentioned my uncle and his wife at my former church, living as though they never heard of me. I was okay until C told me that she was disgusted that, even after I posted pictures of proof on Facebook, no one in the church cared, everyone still supported N and his family, and N’s career was really taking off. I’d always suspected that was the case (after all, to this day only 1 member of that church reached out to apologize for the way she treated me), but hearing it confirmed from an eyewitness hurt me more than I thought it would. I actually spent the rest of the night crying.

I pulled up this blog, re-read the posts, re-read the comments, and realized that on the outside, my circumstances are improving, but internally not much has changed. Some things like this post (Chris’ e-mail) still make my blood boil, and questions like this (where’s God?) are still on my mind. I wanted to “get to the finish line” in the beginning, and tried to rush through the recovery process. But if outward success is an accurate way of measuring inner healing, then why are accomplished celebrities like Tyler Perry still finding it necessary to get on “Oprah” and pour out their bitterness? Because 1, 5, 10, 20 years down the line, the effects of rape still pack a pretty mean punch.

You Have to Pass “Go”, But You Don’t Need All Properties to Win

A reader’s comment I read yesterday really helped bring the truth back home to me. It can take days, and it can take years. There really isn’t any way to run from the healing process, speed it up, or take any short cuts, and thinking you’ll be the exception is one way of denying yourself some sorely needed and deserved TLC. Because of the heavy sense of shame that came with my experiences, I put pressure on myself to get free. But in one of my earlier posts I compared being a rape victim to going through the death of someone you loved, and there’s nothing shameful about losing someone you’re close to. When people find out you’re grieving a death in the family, most will instantly give you the benefit of time and sympathy to recover. Should it be any different for a rape victim: someone who suffered a debilitating violation of their body and spirit through no fault (or invitation) of their own? Even if no one else is sympathetic to your needs because of rape stigma, you should be sympathetic to yourself. It’s incredibly hard to heal, but when you make yourself identify the rape as the obstacle, and not the wounded self that you want to escape, your efforts will be concentrated in the right direction. This is a distinction I want to start making for myself.

The other thing about the healing process I’m learning is that there are no rules in terms of what you need and need not to do to help yourself recover. By that I mean, what works for one victim may not work for another, and vice versa. Based on experience and studying several cases, counselors and survivors may suggest things that have a known record of being helpful, but that doesn’t mean that you have to take those suggestions in order to heal, especially if you feel you’re not ready or that the suggestion would make you uncomfortable – such as praying if you’re not religious. I tried a few unconventional things that helped me, which I’ll definitely share in the near future. I’ll also share my experience with suggestions that I tried and found unhelpful, even though they’ve been great for other rape victims.

Back to WTS

The long and the short of it is that I still have a lot of (admittedly scary) work to do to get to the point where I see being a rape victim as just another part of my past. I’m just really glad that this blog is still here for me to do it in.

Back For The First Time

5 Dec

Props if you could tell (from the title) that I’ve been listening to a certain Southern rapper’s first LP recently!

I’ve really missed blogging, but I’ve also been terrible with time management lately. Has it really been almost 4 months since there was an update?!

I just wanted to thank you for continuing to read, comment and subscribe, and extend a big welcome to everyone who started reading since the hiatus! I’m working on a few posts tonight and hope to have something new up for tomorrow morning.

How have you all been? Send me a comment, an e-mail, or a link on Twitter and fill me in!

Until tomorrow,

E.A. 😀


Short Hiatus

13 Sep

Hi everyone! I’ll be away from my blog for most of this week tending to some urgent matters, but I’ll be back to posting hopefully by Thursday or Friday! Until then, take care and stay safe 🙂