Let me be frank. Shit got Weird Saturday night. And not in a good way.
As some of you might know, there have been a few times over the past couple of months that I have been sexually assaulted, with the worst offense being (raped but I really hate that word so I would really like to never say it again).
Before the first offense occurred, I was beginning to feel afraid. I felt something was off, things were…different and more inappropriate than it ever had been with this person. I voiced my concerns to my husband. He agreed that he saw my initial concerns but it was just “talk” and “looks” and that “I’m the most attractive one there, so it makes sense that people would look at you”. Ugh. This was in early July.
I have voiced my concerns on multiple occasions, but I never thought it would escalate the way it did. One night when I completely didn’t see it coming, shit hit the fan. He came into my house, into my bathroom, and did some messed up stuff to me that I just still don’t even know how to talk about.
I tried, again, expressing to my husband that I’m not okay and that I need to not be left alone when this person is around. Those conversations really never went well, and I just don’t think my husband understood the extent of what I was trying to tell him.
Anyway, last night, I saw this person again. (In case you’re wondering why I see this person so often, well, that explanation deserves its own post. But it isn’t my choice, obviously.)
We were outside, a few people were in the pool (but I have learned my lesson there, so I refuse to get in when he is there. I was sitting next to my husband with my feet in the pool, engaging in conversation with him and other non threatening people. Giving absolutely no attention or look or conversation to him.
He is in the pool with a few other people, and eventually invites himself into the conversation that I’m intentionally excluding him from. I feel him get closer to me, I can see him trying to be near my physically, but I don’t turn around. I’m not acknowledging him. So I keep going, completely turned away and willing him into nonexistence. I feel him touch me, grab me, getting aggressive and inappropriate with me. With any part that he can touch without “being seen” (I’m sure was his thinking).
I kept moving away, repositioning myself, jerking away whenever I felt him touch me. But I’m not looking. I’m not turning around. This goes on for a while. Remember, I’m sitting next to my husband on the edge of the pool. If I get up and leave (like I did last time) the person I’m trying to escape from will just follow me inside and I will become much more unsafe.
As uncomfortable as I am, the safest thing for me to do is to stay where I am.
I don’t know why exactly, but at some point my husband took notice of the situation. He began texting me (because we really can’t make a scene about this) urgently telling me to move away. Telling me that it’s time to go inside now, etc. Finally, he is paying attention. He finally saw something that I’ve been trying to tell him.
The next morning when we wake up, my husband says “we need to talk”.
Okay…about what? He asked if I knew what happened last night. I said yeah…he was grabbing and touching me and I kept trying to move away.
He says “yeah, but do you know what he was touching you with?”
I admit that I didn’t…I assumed it was just his hand. But I was putting SO much effort into escaping the situation mentally… It wasn’t his hand. I’ll leave it at that.
So I felt pretty gross the whole next day. Since then, my husband seems much more in tune with what I’m going through. He has been more present, more helpful, things like that.
I’m glad he saw something. My words weren’t enough, but at least now he knows what I’ve been desperately trying to tell him. Even if, once again, I had to pay a price.
The night took an ugly turn with this person, but I’m honestly too emotionally raw to think about it. I’ll spare you the gory details.
It was a bad night. I hate that this person thinks he can do whatever he wants to me. I’ve fought, I’ve yelled, I’ve said no (repeatedly), I’ve told a few people…it just, it feels like a hopeless situation.
But now my husband knows. The silver lining in a fucked up night was that now I at least feel validated. My husband can’t be with me all the time. But at least when he is, I know he’ll stay a little closer. At least if he is around, I might have a chance of feeling just a little bit safer.
I honestly can’t take any more of this. I think the post explaining “who” it is might be due soon. But I need to tell someone out loud first. I’ve never told anyone who it was. Not my therapist, not my friends…
I’ve never admitted it, never said the words. I don’t even know if anyone knows the “who”. I’ve alluded to it, I’ve implied it, but I haven’t confirmed or said it.
That part does make me feel incredibly lonely. I think I’m almost ready to talk about who this person is. Keeping that secret to myself is making me feel too isolated. And I just can’t take any more of this.