So I am fairly bold about what I share here. why? Because what would have been the point of enduring a hardship if you cannot reach out and help someone else who now sits in crisis?
I also run a blog regarding abuse... empoweringwomen88.blogspot.com
So what is on my mind tonight? Rape...why? mainly because it bites...and I have been there. And people who have been raped and felt they couldn't open up about it, need a forum to openly share.
My parents are social and friendly with a man who raped me. How is that supposed to make me feel? It is not bad enough to have someone exert power over you...leaving you to feel helpless, shamed and wounded...but to have him be a good ol' boy who everyone seems to like, well, that bites.
First we have to get into the gnarly aspects of defining rape...because 200 years ago it was thought to be impossible for a husband to rape his own wife...after all she wasn't much more than property...but today she is not thought of as property...she is a human...who, even in God's eyes, has free will...and I am not suggesting that shrews who withhold sex as a form of mental abuse to lord over their husbands are any better...but that wasn't my case.
On average we had sex at least once to twice a week. So I wasn't withholding. And within the framework of the first 2 years of my marriage I enjoyed sex with him. But then it started to be about only gratifying him. It started to feel like rape, even long before he took advantage. I have no idea if he was raped or abused as a child...it stands to reason that he probably was...when a person sees others as merely objects designed to service them, abuse is usually the culprit. But being abused as a child...or being sexualized too early...is still not an excuse...because we also live in a society where we can get therapy...we can get treatment...we can flush old tapes and re-write our emotional hard drives as needed...so it isn't merely a question of him being abused and acting out...it is a question of him not getting help as a grown person and then inflicting his bent, selfish will upon me...and honestly on other females as well.
At this sitting I do not know if he has gotten help. If he has yeah!!! but doesn't it stand to reason that if he had he would somewhere deep inside feel as though he owes me an apology of some sort for violating me?
Yeah...except he doesn't.
In fact he low rates me at every opportunity. He tells people I am crazy, supposedly just like my mother...yet sadly my mother has nothing to do with his abusive nature.
But what always amazes me is that he is a friend of my dad and step-mother's. I am am the butt of jokes and put downs because they are friends. Does my family want to acknowledge him as abusive...or as ever having been abusive? Nope...in their eyes he is just that famous good ol' boy.
This is so painful...the drive you too drink and do drugs kind of pain...the scream your head off because its insane kind of pain...the what in the hell is wrong with my family kind of pain.
Denial is a tool that is only supposed to be used for a short while until our real coping skills kick in...in my family denial is on overload...because 20 plus years is not a short while.
So to those of you who have been raped...either by a stranger, by a friend or even by a husband, I understand. Rape is about control. Rape bends and twists its victims. Fortunately we do not have to stay victims. We can post, we can blog...and we can be bold about what we faced...hopefully so that when others read it they know they can raise about their situations as well.
I used to cry into my pillow when he would touch me; I felt like someone else, namely his mother, was in bed with us; and if I said "no" I would be coerced, not romanced or seduced, but just coerced; and if I dared to pretend I was sick or asleep, well, he would take it...and controlling another person with fear, intimidation or violence is...rape...taking someone against their will is rape.
Did I mention I share two incredible kids with this man? Bites for me...and them.
So family ...you are breaking bread with, and thinking the world of... someone who raped me...what on earth do you want me to think of you...for not wanting to hear about it...not wanting to face it...and not doing anything to support me???
Only God can offer the kind of forgiveness needed to ever have anything to do with either of you this side of heaven.
Let me know how you are doing.
The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother; it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.
Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.
Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children.