I have only told a hand full of people my story, and it has been years since it happened. Lately I've been thinking that not talking about it and not seeing any specialist after has caused me to be as messed up as i am. So I'd like to get my story out a bit more. Thank you for reading, it is much appreciated:

My story isn't dramatic and it isn't bloody, excessively violent, or any of that. And I think that's why I've always figured it wasn't a big deal. Until now when I realize everything that it has caused.

I was 13 years old, a young girl, my first year of high school. I hung out with my older brother and his much older and "gothic" friends. A very bad crowd. I started getting love letters passed on from a man who had graduated a year before. He was 19 years old, going on 20. He was very popular with a particular crowd and I fell hard and fast for him. He sent these long and romantic letter to me, and I ignored my schoolwork and wrote back. I began seeing him after school. We would hang out and talk. He would kiss me, and buy my cigarettes. My brother would be around sometimes and he never said anything. My parents could never know though.

We continued this for a month or so, I became obsessed. He told me he loved me, and talked about having kids someday. He talked about marriage too. He was always nervous of course, because I was so young. He would rarely go out with me in public. He brought me to a few parties and would tell all of his friends that I was 16. We got a lot of looks. I began sneaking out of my house at night to go spend a few hours with him at his friends house.

He kept wanting to have sex and I could see the struggle inside him as he worried about getting in trouble. I was so young and innocent that I didn't even know that a "blow job" didn't mean you actually blew air. I didn't know what a penis looked like before that. I didn't know that anything could go inside me. I was always nervous and scared. I didn't know what was happening or what we were doing. He went down on me and fingered me. He had me go down on him.

One night I didn't sneak back in the house. He drove me to school in the morning. My brother noticed I wasn't there in the morning and finally broke down and told my parents everything. The man was arrested right away and I was called down to the office to hear the news. After he got out on bail he had his friend give me one last love letter. He said all sorts of flattering things. He told me we would run away together someday, but that I would have to help make sure he didn't get in trouble.

We went to court. I had to talk to a counsolr and the judge and tell them what happened. When I was explaining it all, looking back, and thinking of their faces when they heard how innocent I was and I didn't even know what I was talking about. I had NO IDEA what had happened, physically, between us. But I was oh so convinced that this man was the love of my life. He took the plea bargin and was put on the sex offender's registry. My dad had to hold back not shooting him.

He had me trapped in this silly fantasy that we would be together again one day. I truly thought he loved me. Now I know that he is the type of guy that would say anything in order to have things go his way. He was with another young girl within a week. I wasn't told about this until years later. But a whole year went by where I was grounded (locks on my windows) and I fantasised about being with him again. A year wasted. I spent all of that time blaming myself for him getting in trouble. I attempted suicide because I hated myself for it. I thought that I "was not worthy" of him. I thought that he was so perfect and that my life would play out like a movie after I turned 18. I hated my parents for doing this to him. I despised them. I didn't say more than a few sentences to them that entire year. I bawled my eyes out every single night and wrote poems about him. It really does seem crazy but if you had seen the letters he had sent me, a young and foolish girl, of course I was crazy for him.

I got over him after I had my revelation. I found out about all of his lies and that other young girl he went to a week after he was arrested. I also learned about the other young girls that he had had sex with, some of them my old friends. (Now of wish and VERY messed up!) I stopped cutting myself. I stopped trying to kill myself. I stopped crying. I started hanging out with my old, nerdy friends. Broke his mix CD's into tiny pieces. I smashed the promise ring with a hammer. I tried to never think of him again and just ignored what happened.

When I turned 16 I met a 23 year old man. He was a charmer and he charmed his way right into taking my virginity. He told me all sorts of sweet things and took me to his house. I had just met him when I was getting a drink at Biggby's. And from there it turned into something. I found out that he was friends with the same guy that had been arrested "because of me."

I continued to see him. And then a week later I told him that I couldn't do it, and that my parents wouldn't approve. I started dating another guy. When my 23 year old ex found this out, he threatened me. He texted me telling me that he had access to guns. He said imagine what he could do with them. He mentioned my mom, my dad, and my boyfriend, and also me. He said that I would have to break up with this guy and start seeing him again. I was so scared for my family that I snuk out at night to go see him and talk to him. It's like that awful moment in a scary movie where the girl opens the door when she knows there's a killer on the other side. I jsut wanted to talk to him.

He parked in a church parking lot and talked more about how angry he was that I was seeing someone. I had just recently found out that he had a kid on the way and that he was having sex with another girl, who was 14. He leaned my chair back. He had sex with me. I didn't do anything. I didn't say no, and I didn't try to stop him. But I was scared and I knew that I didn't want to do it. To this day I don't feel like I can call that moment rape, but I still felt it inside. He would slap my face lightly and call me names. He had stepped out of the car for a moment before that, and I think that he had grabbed my cell phone and called my house with it and set it on the floor. Either that, or I had done it and I just blocked it out or something. Either way, my parents knew I was gone after that call and all they had heard was some static. They were so worried. It was about 2 am.

Once he realized this call was made I was scared. So scared. He drove me to his cousin's place and we went into the garage. I was convinced I was never going to go home and that my parents would never forgive me for sneaking out. So we "slept" there on the floor. He got on top of me and I told him that it hurt and was getting painful. He asked me if I wanted him to stop and I said yes. He kept going. For at least another 10 minutes. I rolled over on my side and didn't say anything. In the morning we went inside his cousin's place and told them everything. We slept in his bedroom on the floor with him in the bed. I was so nervous about my parents and the guy I was with that I was shaking. I think deep down inside, not wanting him to get in trouble was because of the guilt I felt for letting the first guy get in trouble, like it was all my fault or something. Even though I knew this guy was sick and I was afraid of him. His cousin said if he heard anything going on that he would kick us out. But he had sex with me anyway underneath the blankets. I didn't want to say anything because I was worried that we would get kicked out, but I didn't want to have sex and he knew that because I had told him that it was getting painful. I was glad when it was over.

After the nap I said I wanted to shower as an effort to get away from him. He followed me into the bathroom and closed the door. I was already half undressed when he came in. He pushed me down on the counter face first and had sex with me. I didn't say anything. I didn't make a sound. He could see my pained face in the mirror, I'm sure. I took my shower, shaking. There was too much going on. I was in a strange place, afraid to face my parents. I thought this guy was helping me, I was convinced of it. I think I was also afraid that he could hurt my parents. I'm not really sure what I was thinking at all actually. I think I was just in shock. I wish I hadn't been, I wish I had been aware enough to have told him "no" so that to this day I could at least believe myself when I say I've been raped. But I feel like a liar when I say that.

Long story short, the cops came and he told me to hide in the woods. When the dogs sniffed me out I got put in the police car. My parents were crying and wouldn't let go of me. When the cop asked what happened I didn't say much of anything. I didn't want to get him in trouble, I suppose. Now, I wish I had said something. I didn't tell my mom for 2 weeks. Then one day I walked into her bedroom, sat down next to her and said "mom, I think he raped me." I told her what happened and she cried more than I've ever seen her cry in my life. I cried too, finally. I finally felt like some sense had been slapped into me. I didn't want to go to the cops, but my mom and dad insisted. It didn't do any good, it was far too late. He now has a child, and I've heard stories that he has raped other woman.

I went off to college three years later. I had just gotten out of my first actually good and long relationship. I hadn't been single since the rape. I got heavy into drinking and became very unstable without my boyfriend. I drank every single day, in no time. I got slipped ruffies at a frat party. The guy I was talking to was sitting right next to me and had a cup in his hand. I was already very drunk, and crying because a guy upset me. His frat brother walked over and said that he was done with his drink and poured it into his. He said that he didn't want it and offered it to me. I drank it. I don't remember much after that except bits and pieces of taking off my clothes and being in a shower. I woke up in his bed, scared. Didn't confront him I was still drunk and was thinking that I had just gotten too drunk. I stumbled home. In the morning it all hit me. But I never confronted him, even still waved to him nervously. I knew I had been raped even if it wasn't ruffies, because I was blacked out. But in all my time drinking I have never felt like that and had that much time be gone from my night and then just wake up almost right after. That wasn't a normal drunk. I told a couple of people and mutual friends called me a liar and I lost some friends over it. I told my MMA instructor and he wanted to go to the police, but I said no. I was too afraid to. I didn't want to get him in trouble.

I have been played by guys more times than I can count. I have had sex with a lot of guys after these incidents occurred. I confuse sex for love. I have been cheated on over 7 times. I can't seem to have a healthy relationship. I have turned all parts of my life around 180 degrees, yet my love and sex life is completely messed up. I cry a lot. I have lost all faith in my ability to find a guy that won't hurt me. I have trouble accepting that I have been raped, and mulitpule times. I don't trust anyone but I let people walk all over me. I have come to finally accept that I am not a *****.

The first man taught me that sex was love. Crazy, unrealistic love, and that a guy getting in trouble for unacceptable sex, that it was my fault.

The second man taught me that if a guy wants to have sex with me that I need to do it. That if a man has more power than me then I can't really say no.

The third man taught me that if I went to a party and got drunk and wound up in someones bed, not remembering more than a few bits, that it was my fault because I was the one that decided to drink.

I am a victim of statutory rape, violent rape, and date rape. I have not delt with any of these incidents in a healthy way, I just push them down inside. But I am hopeful that I now that I realize my mistake that I can get help and support, and slowly work my way to the person I want to be. In a healthy, happy, romantic relationship with a real honest to god, man. But I don't know if I can trust anyone again.
(Also, my brother hangs out with the first guy still and he blames me for what happened to him. My brother and sister don't believe me that the second man raped me because I didn't say anything right away. I have not told my family about the last one because I am embarrassed.)