Needing Some Support
Hello, everyone. I never post on reddit, but I’m in desperate need of some support and reassurance and encouragement lately, and I don’t want to go to anyone in my personal life about it.
I think (22F) was assaulted over a year ago on my birthday. I think I know now that it was rape, but even now I struggle with blaming myself and downplaying the experience. I’ve only told two people in the entire world about it, my current college roommate and my therapist (and I would deflect every time she tried to get me to talk about it, so they both just know the very basics). I struggle a lot with not wanting to burden my friends and family since they’ve all gone through terrible things, and I want to be there for them instead of making them worry about me.
Anyway, what happened was I was studying abroad in a foreign country for the semester, and I got to the point of the year where I was just homesick and lonely. It was my 21st birthday (which would’ve been a huge deal had I been home in America, but was not so much in the country I was living in at the time). I was really missing my friends and family, so I sought out other attachments in this foreign country. I got ridiculously drunk and downloaded Hinge and was messaging random people in the middle of the night (midnight to 2AM, probably). This much older guy asked to meet up, and feeling lonely and sad, I said yes. I know it’s stupid to do that with a stranger, but everyone makes mistakes.
I invited him to my flat, since I didn’t feel comfortable traveling across the city to a random man’s apartment at night, and my building had good security. He was completely sober when we met, which I already think is an iffy situation, but that’s not where I felt weird about it. We had sex, and it was not good. I told him to wear a condom, since I wasn’t on birth control (in a foreign country) and he was a stranger (who knows what he could have), and he seemed very reluctant, but he did it. It really hurt, which was weird, but I found out literally the next day that I had a yeast infection which made penetration very painful. When I said “ow” or told him to slow down, he just continued and told me it shouldn’t hurt and I would get used to it (not a virgin so I found it rather condescending).
He finished and whatever it was fine, and he realized I hadn’t finished yet, so he tried to do something nice by eating me out to get me off, but I was so turned off I couldn’t manage it, even after a long time. And apparently doing this to me got him going again because he asked me to return the favor for him, and I didn’t really want to, but we were way into the early morning hours, and I was still very drunk, so I did it anyway. Every time I tried to steady myself or him with my hands, he would slap them away, and he grabbed my head when I tried to pull away.
The big thing that happened that makes me feel uncomfortable to this day was a few hours after. We fell asleep in my bed, even though I wanted him to leave. I just felt trapped and drunk and tired and scared, so I let him stay. Then, at 7:30ish (we probably fell asleep around 4:30 or 5AM), I’m woken up by him turning me over and spreading my legs to fuck me again. He’s on top of me, and I’m still drunk and half asleep and scared, so I don’t do anything. Before I know it, he’s pulling out and finishing on my stomach, which sent chills down my spine because he knew how adamant I was before about him wearing a condom. I felt really violated and scared. He helped me clean up and then went right back to sleep, but I was wide awake for three more hours until he left.
After he left, I freaked out. I opened all the windows and stripped my sheets and showered and cleaned everything. I wanted to get a morning after pill and/or tested for STDs, but I didn’t really know how to navigate the healthcare system in this foreign country, and the international insurance I had went through my parents, so they would’ve gotten notified about it. I was also freaked out for months because he knew where I lived. I would stare at pregnancy tests in the store, horrified that I was pregnant by freak chance. I slept until at least noon every day until I went home in the summer, and I got the sickest I’d ever been for two weeks literally two days after it happened.
Logically, I know what happened was bad and probably not my fault, but I am constantly beating myself up about it. It’s still affecting me to this day, which feels icky because it wasn’t violent or anything, but it really affects the way I interact with men now.
TLDR: I think (know) I was raped over a year ago, but I’m really struggling with wrapping my mind around it still. Please be kind.