Rape

That word has so much power. It makes me pause.

I'm so worried that I'll offend someone that I pause in using that word. But it's just a word. Just like 'fuck' or 'shit' or 'ass' or 'fluffanutter,' it's just a word.

The definition of rape in the legal sense has evolved over the years.

"
Historically, rape was defined as unlawful sexual intercourse with a woman against her will. The essential elements of the crime were sexual penetration, force, and lack of consent. Women who were raped were expected to have physically resisted to the utmost of their powers or their assailant would not be convicted of rape. Additionally, a husband could have sex with his wife against her will without being charged with rape. Beginning in the 1970s, state legislatures and courts expanded and redefined the crime of rape to reflect modern notions of equality and legal propriety.
As of the early 2000s, all states define rape without reference to the sex of the victim and the perpetrator. Though the overwhelming majority of rape victims are women, a woman may be convicted of raping a man, a man may be convicted of raping a man, and a woman may be convicted of raping another woman. Furthermore, a spouse may be convicted of rape if the perpetrator forces the other spouse to have nonconsensual sex. Many states do not punish the rape of a spouse as severely as the rape of a non-spouse.
Many states also have redefined lack of consent. Before the 1970s, many courts viewed the element of force from the standpoint of the victim. A man would not be convicted of rape of a competent woman unless she had demonstrated some physical resistance. In the absence of physical resistance, courts usually held that the sexual act was consensual. In the early 2000s in many states, the prosecution can prove lack of consent by presenting evidence that the victim objected verbally to the sexual penetration or sexual intrusion."

When I was 14 I was raped for the first time.

I was hanging out at a friends house, a friend I trusted with our boyfriends. Without going into gory details, my boyfriend and I went to her room for some 'alone time' and subsequently I was handcuffed and my virginity was taken against my will unprotected.

I never told her this. I blamed myself. I shouldn't of gone upstairs with him. I shouldn't of trusted him to be a gentleman. But I did.

About a month later it really sunk in what had happened and I asked my Mother to take me to the Doctors. I asked for one of my first HIV/AIDS tests. They tried to talk me out of it. I lied for my reasons, I didn't want to trouble them with what I had just gone threw. And so the bottling began.

I told them there was a girl in my class who had HIV and I just wanted to be safe. They told me how AIDS was contracted, even though I fully knew, and that I was being silly. And my Mother often brought it up about how silly I was being.

I knew the truth.

I needed to know.

It came back negative. All my cultures did. Even at 14 I knew the danger I was in. It was then I really started to eat. Maybe if I was fat and ugly I wouldn't have been in this position. So I hid behind frumpy mens clothing, hiding my body in cloth and . . ..wow. I almost wrote 'lard.'

By seventeen I didn't fit in with my peers even though I desperately wanted to. I had found a good boyfriend, it was a mostly healthy relationship, and when I turned 18 I did what any rebellious teenager would do, I modified my body.

The first thing I did was got a tattoo. I didn't put thought into it, I just did it.

The second thing I did was pierced my left nipple. This piercing was done incorrectly and needed a lot of aftercare. The piercer was an older guy, probably in his mid 30s. I can't remember his name, I remember his tattoos. He had a 'white tattoo' on his right arm. On his back he had footprints of his son and the eye of Ra.

After my piercing I developed an infection. I didn't know that the jewelry he placed in my body was too small and exasperating the problem. I had it done on a Friday. Two weeks later I went back on a Tuesday. I had called the weekend before and talked to him about my pain and problems. He wanted me to come right in but I couldn't I had to work. I had off on Tuesday. The shop was closed on Tuesdays, but he'd come in and check me out because he was 'concerned' about me.

I told my boyfriend this and he asked me to take a friend.

So I did.

She blacked out what happened that day.

We walked into the shop and he locked the door behind us. I asked why, but again, I trusted him. He told me for security. We went into the 'piercing room' and he checked my nipple. He said all I could do was put neosporin on it. It stayed infected until I replaced the jewelry two years later.

After he checked me out my friend and I said we were going to lunch. He asked if we wanted to hang and I told him no, I had to eat and get going. It was then he pulled the gun on us and told us we couldn't leave.

This is the bizarre part. He never touched my friend. He made her watch. My friend was a model. She was thin, beautiful, dare I say gorgeous. And he. . .

I need to redirect here.

So I have had many instances where someone I trust takes advantage of that trust. And that is why my therapist says 'even though your Midwife meant well, even though the surgeons meant well, you were raped.'

I trusted them. They restrained me and tied me down. They touched me without my consent, without telling me what they were doing. I don't know if I can call it birth rape. Hubs is furious. Hubs wants blood.

A week ago, for the first time I told people what happened in that OR. I know many people hear I had a section and that I'm hurt from it and they don't understand. A really good friend said 'I don't think other women experienced things like you did. They couldn't have. There would be an uproar, right?"

Why? Would there really be? Even now, there are people out there that think I'm making too much of this. There are people that don't believe me.

I guess that is part of the reason I'm trying to be vocal about this. I'm trying to save anyone from dealing with this, experiencing this. And as much as I hate it, it gets me to talk about it.