I was raped a few years ago, but I've never told a soul nor been really angry at the dude, because I honestly feel like it was my fault.
We were both drunk and I was young; I was making out with him at the bar and in the street, we were fooling around in the taxi, I ditched all my friends and the person who was hosting me to go stay at this guy's hostel. He paid for all my drinks and the taxi and I was feeling great.
By the time we got into the bed, though, I was sobering up, and he wasn't. I offered a bj and he accepted, I hoped it would be enough to cool him off and possibly lead to a passing out situation. I tried to see past the sex-hungry drunkard because we had met earlier in the day and he was telling me a slew of things about his ex-girlfriend, their bad breakup, his recovery process, etc.
It wasn't until he refused to use a condom that I was like "no, I don't want this anymore." And he was like, "oh, come on...just a little!" and I was like, "no, seriously." But he did it anyway. I just sort of sighed and let it go, because I understood in that moment that I let things get out of hand, and I shouldn't have gone home with him.
To this day, I still believe he is a nice guy (now married with a kid) and was just a bit too drunk to realize there was no consent. I forgave him, and I actually feel bad that I put us in that situation but being a young, drunk, slutty girl. I wouldn't blame him, in this situation.
|