I don’t think I’m ever gonna put this out but if you happen to be reading this, it means I did and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
I think I’m writing this in a bid to let go, to get some kinda closure. I’ve been holding unto these things for a very long time and I’m tired of everything that comes with it.. the pain, the insecurities, the fear, the trauma.. I’m ready to move on but i don’t know how so I’m trying this. I know I’m not ready for the consequences of writing the things I’m about to write, but I’m sick and tired of remaining stagnant and hurting so here goes.
At the time of writing this, I’m a 21 year old girl (“girl” cause i haven’t really gotten around referring to myself as lady or woman, it feels really weird).
This, I’ve been thinking about writing this part for a long time now. I don’t know if it’s harder because I’d be reliving it or because I’m writing this cause I just really want to let go of it all and well, what if I still can’t afterwards. Anyways, I won’t know if I never write it so here goes..
For anonymity sake, let’s call him Chris. We met at an inter-house competition back when I was in secondary school. We probably wouldn’t have even met if I’d been a ‘good’ girl.. My friends and I skipped school to go to the competition. One of my friends introduced us, we exchanged numbers and that was it. We’d text every day, he was fun and I wasn’t bad either so we never ran out of things to talk about. I started falling for him. Our conversations gradually became sexual and that was when I should have stopped talking to him but it just made me like him more. Oh, did I mention that he was older? He was 20 and I was 14 at the time. He’d have me come out to see him at night.. I said “he’d have me” like i didn’t want to see him too lol, I actually did.. at first, we’d just talk for a while then he’d hug me and I’d go back.. I can still remember the hugs vividly. Then one day, he kissed me. It felt magical.. describing it as that now feels stupid, but that’s really how it felt. I was shy and didn’t know what to do with it so I ran back home. We talked about it and I told him I liked it.. and eventually, that I liked him too. He asked me to be his girlfriend and I agreed.. I was scared, mostly of what I was feeling but also because i knew i shouldn’t be seeing him, but I said yes cause I was in love with him and I didn’t know how to say no, lol.
All we did was make out. Well, sex chat and make out.. his place, our spot, by the road side at night.. I was too foolish and blinded by love to see that what we had wasn’t a ‘relationship’. He hid me.. he never introduced me to his friends, never wanted us to be seen in public… I mean, I hid him too.. I couldn’t tell my friends I was “dating” a guy 6 years older than I was so it was a secret relationship.
I didn’t want sex. I’d just turned 15 and I’d never had it and it was a big deal and it seemed scary so I didn’t want it. But he did, badly. We talked about having it almost everyday and he kept going on about how he’d be gentle and whatnot. We finally reached an agreement. We agreed to wait until I was 18 before we started having sex.. before I started having sex. So we’d make out but not fuck, that was the plan.
Sunday, 1st March 2015.. I was supposed to be in fellowship.. but I was also supposed to go see him. I couldn’t tell my parents I wouldn’t go to fellowship cause i was going to see my boyfriend, so I went to fellowship then left from there to his house. We were making out.. I was having a good time until he started unzipping his pants.. I pulled back a bit and was like “you know we’re not having sex right.. I don’t want to”. And he goes “but i want to”. He pulled me underneath himself and pinned me down.. which wasn’t difficult for him to do cause i was sort of under him already and i was small, he was more than twice my size and buff. Next thing I know, his dick was out and he pulled out my panties.. i was wearing a skirt so that too was easy for him to do. I kept begging him to stop, kept telling him I didn’t want to. He pulled me closer to his waist, leaned on me and thrusted his dick inside me.. i remember exactly what that first thrust felt like, I still feel it when I have flashbacks and panic attacks.. it was mind numbingly painful. I screamed but it didn’t do much cause he had his hand over my mouth. I kept begging him but it seemed he was deaf cause he kept thrusting, violently. By the 5th thrust, I was drunk with pain and all I could do was cry and hope that he’ll stop. Not too long after, he stopped and started apologizing. I wasn’t hearing it though, I just wanted to go home. I stood up, picked up my panties and that was when I saw that I was bleeding. I put them on, rolled down my skirt, found my phone and left. I got home and went straight to the bathroom. Wanted to clean up but I was told my aunt wanted to see me so I had to go to my grandma’s place to see her. She wanted to talk to me about how i should keep my virginity for my husband and how i shouldn’t defile myself and all that crap. I know, the irony right!. I was broken. After the pep talk I went home, took my bath and cried myself to sleep. I was super sore for days. I couldn’t tell my parents cause that would have been drastic. Couldn’t tell my friends either cause well, that would have been drastic too. So, I shoved it down and moved on…
He’d been calling and texting and explaining how it was the devil and whatnot. About a week later tho, I forgave him and we got back together, lmao (clown emoji*). He promised to not ask for sex again until I was totally ready.. lies. He came begging with the “just this one last time” line and he pestered until I gave in. Foolish me thought “it’s already broken, what difference would one more time make”.. and “one last time” happened a couple other times until i got hitched and didn’t want to stop. I really hate saying “I got addicted”, but I got addicted. I won’t get into how frequently we did it but it was literally all we did for about a year and we were never safe, not once. I was really stupid, lol.
At some point, I got tired.. not tired of the sex cause the sex was good, tired of the relationship. I think I finally grew a mind of my own. I was going to turn 17 and I was just tired. He told me he cheated, that he slept with some girl.. which i figured he was doing btw cause he’d asked my friend out earlier, she was a bit older so i kinda understood. Anyway, that was my out. I broke up with him. I wanted him to come after me or something but he didn’t and I don’t know which hurt more, that or the fact that I fell in love with someone who didn’t love me at all and just exploited me.
I’ve ran from the pain and trauma this guy inflicted on me and even after 6 years, it’s still the hardest thing I’ve had to deal with in my entire life. I’m not all fine yet, my heart still skips a beat when I say his name, I still get really scared when I see him and I don’t know exactly why I’m writing this.. it might give me closure, might not. Writing this was really difficult for me to do.. the time between when i started it and when I finished is a lot.. but the fact that I’m able to write this is just proof that it gets better cause about 10 months ago, I wasn’t even able to talk about it.
Disclaimer: This is a true life story.