I said no.

I said it more than once.  I said it quietly, to a man who said he loved me.  I choked it out louder, through tears as he ripped into me, and then the pain made me mute. It took everything I had for me to say it again.


There were a lot of other words then.  Stop. Get off. You’re hurting me.

And the man, who said the sun rose and set with me, who said I was an angel, who said I was going to marry him and give him babies, replied, NO.

And he didn’t stop.

When it was over, I called the front desk for new sheets to replace the blood soaked bedding.  When the boy working room service came fifteen minutes later I smiled, so he wouldn’t  know I had just been raped.

The man and I went out for food because he was hungry. It was hard to walk. It hurt to sit. I was ashamed of myself because I had allowed him to take my virginity, and now I was ruined.

He was proud.


Today I read an essay about rape.  I wept, and I wrote.

I’ve never used the word rape before.  Not really. I always said “a kind of date-rape thing” when asked about my first time and then I changed the subject as fast as I could.   I always felt horrible about it, and I tried to forget. 

You don’t forget.

6 thoughts on “~1990~

  1. So sorry this happened, Ginger, especially as your first sexual experience. What was your “take away” from it?

  2. ((HUGS)) Dear…no woman or man should have to endure that. Never feel ashamed of what you didn’t want to give and couldn’t stop. And YOU are never ever ruined. Never. You are beautiful person who deserved better treatment form another human being and didn’t get it. Simple as that. Much love xoxo

  3. 1987 for me. I was too proud to tell my friends what really happened- so I just told them I lost my virginity and was convincingly enthusiastic. My body betrayed me when I went to Planned Parenthood for the pill and had a full- scale freakout the minute the nurse touched me “down there”. Bless those women who let me scream and cry – but I never told them what had happened. I don’t think about it very much at all- the boy (unknown to me) had brain cancer and died a few years afterward. What I do dread to this day are those tipsy girly chats when the conversation turns to “how did you lose your virginity?”. A good time to head to the ladies room. Big hug to you- thanks for writing this! Xxxoooo

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