Honestly, what I am about to recount was an experience that my body withstood while my spirit floated helplessly overhead. It was the first time that I ever willingly put myself into a situation that I literally had no control over. I was 17 and I knew it all, I had just broken up for the third time with my manipulative now ex-husband; at the time we were dating. My way of getting back at the ex was to do everything that we did together but with other people – the drinking, partying and rebelling against my parents. I remember I had roped my best friend at the time into coming with me for a night that truly influenced the woman that I am today. My misery so desperately needed the company. At this point of my rebellious 17th year, I began hanging around a family member who was then and is still to this day fighting many demons of her own, we’ll call her la prima. La prima was even more disconnected from her sense of self than I was, every single weekend she’d lose herself to drugs, alcohol, parties, men and whatever else she was lured into. I was drawn to her though because she was evil, and that was my way of rebelling. Enough introduction, I want to talk about that night.
My bestie and I at the time drove all the way to Yonkers, NY together to meet up with la prima. Once we got together, the first thing we did was buy a bottle and then we headed over to one her “boys” house. On the front porch of his house I watched her wash down some pills with the bottle of Patrone we had just got and this is how our night of “fun” started. Inside this dudes apartment, the liquor started to flow and the blunt began to burn, music was playing as loud as the speakers could tolerate and everyone was feeling loose. Drink after drink I began to lose my sense of consciousness. Hours went by and I had flashes of being in a jeep, throwing up in it, being somewhere outside dancing and more driving. I had no clear recollection of any of the events described. I had no sense of time nor of location, just flashes of memories. It was like I was watching a movie of myself I had glimpses of my physical body engaging in all of these activities but no say so of what was going to happen next. I had drunk before, sure, and I had even smoked before but what I was feeling this night was not a typical drunk or high. I didn’t realize it at the time, but after the fact, I was certain that I had been drugged. Yeah, the bad shit that I remember learning about in health class as a teen with sympathy for those poor unexpecting girls happened to me. The last snippet of this evening that I had was being in a bed with no pants on, music was playing, my best friend was messing around with a girl and a dude was about to get deep into me before his friend reminded him to put a condom on. In the fuckery of this situation – these strangers that literally got me fucked up to take advantage of me had protected me. But they were set out to take a piece of me and they did. I got fucked by him and then his cousin took a turn; I was aware of what was happening to my body but my spirit was severed from my physical self without a doubt. In a sober state, I would have never consented to this madness; I would have never let my temple be tainted in this way.
My bestie and I drove home in the early hours of the morning after, la prima went home to her kids and the bestie and I did a drive of shame back Jersey. We both obviously regretted the night and talked about it for some time after. I had not talked to la prima after that weekend and when I finally decided to do so I explained to her my point of view what had happened - even though she was there the whole time. At first, she was on my side and told me that she was so sorry, and that she didn’t realize what was going on because she was so fucked up too. I would say that a month or so went by and I get a phone call, it was la prima and she had one of the two dudes on a three way call. One of the dude1 ( because I have no idea what either of their names were) gave me a chance to say that I feel like I was raped and his rebuttal was that I consented and immediately threatened me with a lawyer. I was threatened and coerced into fear by a person who clearly violated me and I stayed silent.
My silence stemmed from fear of those pieces of garbage in New York and what they might have tried to do to me if I was to make public what went down. My silence also stemmed from shame and embarrassment. Society has a sick way of making both women and men who have been raped believe that it was their fault in some way. I think there is even a name for it: rape culture. Rape culture is a real thing and will continue to flourish until victims of this disgusting lowly crime use their voices. Our voices are not meant for screaming helplessly, our voices are meant for speaking up for ourselves and encouraging others with strength to follow suite. When I say #MeToo, I mean it.
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