In light of one public figure, Mr. Akin, who is completely misguided, I am going to write a story tonight that may be a little difficult to read.
It was October. I was eighteen, a freshman at the University. My friend Shana needed a date for her boyfriend's best friend. She asked me. I was excited because I had not been to a semi-formal event yet. I had to borrow a dress. It was black with little pastel colored roses on it. The size was one up from my petite frame so it hung to the floor if I took of my pumps. Being used to tops being too big, I carefully pinned the deep V-neck so it wasn't too revealing.
After puffing out our hair, it was the early nineties after all, we walked over to the fraternity house. The air was cool and fresh. The anticipation of the first snow, real Colorado snow, hung in the air. We passed through the guest list line and up the steps. The house was warm and loud. Music pumped from every room. People were smashed against walls until we squeezed towards the back of the house where the catering was. I met my date. He was tall and okay looking. He had course brown hair and wore a plaid shirt. Attractive, I guess. He definitely wore his ego on his shirt sleeves, and I felt really small. It was too loud for much conversation as the four of us danced a bit in the front room. Then we went back to the back room where this guy, they called him Duckie, gave me a glass of wine. This was a wine and cheese party. I didn't like it so I just took little sips. Duckie spent most of his time chatting up anyone who walked by. Apparently he was very popular. Or, at least e thought he was. He noticed I wasn't drinking and took my glass. He returned with another glass. It was better tasting.
So the night progressed. We danced with our friends. They eventually disappeared. It was late. I wanted to go home. I was feeling a little fuzzy. Duckie wanted to show me a CD or something in his room. I wanted to find my friend. He told me that since Shana's boyfriend was his roommate, I would find her down the hall. I followed. We got into the room. He put on the song. He grabbed my waist and started slow dancing. It was nice. Then we started kissing. It was really nice.
Now, I will save you the details, but you can guess what happened next. I have gone through it many a times and not knowing if I could have stopped it. It wasn't violent. It wasn't what I wanted to do. I wasn't asked. Did a kiss mean yes? Not when you are fuzzy in the head and pinned to the couch. It hurt. I cried. I heard my friend's voice in the hall. He quickly dressed and went out of the room. I sat there feeling sick and dizzy. What had just happened? I wanted to go home. I was embarrassed. My dress was still on. It was ripped where I pinned it. Smoothing down my hair, I waited until the voices in the hall to die down and snuck out of the house. It was cold outside.
Back at the dorms, I showered and went to bed. The next morning, Shana calls wondering where I went the night before. I can't remember what I told her. I remember I dressed in the baggiest overalls I could find in my closet. I wanted to hide. He took away my virginity without even asking. I felt confused. Was it my fault? I shouldn't have drank that wine. I didn't have but a few sips because it tasted so gross. In the hall, I joined the girls to walk to the cafeteria for breakfast. Allie was going on and on about her wild night filled with love escapades with her Marice. They were the most beautiful couple in the dorm. He was a dark Mediterranean Ken, and she was an green eyed, freckled, Irish Audrey Hepburn. As I listened to her excitement over his romance, I asked myself, was this what it was supposed to be like? The girls roared and snickered at their previous night's love affairs. I felt sick. I went to the restroom. I felt weird down there. I looked in the toilet after going, and there was the condom. Apparently, it got stuck when he quickly exited. I was horrified. What if it leaked?! What if I was pregnant with this horrible person? I couldn't believe this was happening to me.
The next couple of weeks I waited for that blessed drop of blood. It came. I prayed great gratitude. During the wait, I ran all the scenarios through my head. Would I keep it? Could I keep it? I don't think I could. I would hate it. Could I carry it and give it away? One time. One ugly time and all my plans for my life could...snap...be gone. I never quite answered these questions. All I knew is that I was glad I could choose. I had a choice.
A month later, not pregnant, not a virgin, and getting over the profound burden of all that, the dreams stopped. My friend talked me into going to a party at the same fraternity. I told her to promise to stick with me this time and I would go. We walked up to the front and guess who was at the table with the guest list? He looked up and said, "Oh, let me guess. Heather, right?". My heart sunk so low in my belly that I wasn't sure it was still beating. My head got hot.
"No, it is Sara, and I am on the list," I say stomping up the stairs behind my friend. The music was louder. The dancing great. Shana kept feeding me red jungle juice. I was angry. I was hurt. I was confused. So I drank it. Stupid, I know. A male friend from my psychology class offered to walk me home. I felt even sicker then that night it happened. Outside, it was snowing. I didn't have a coat. It was slippery. I was crying. I couldn't see the lines on the street. They were jumping. Josh carried me across the street. I walked the rest of the way to the dorm. Amy down the hall was home and agreed to help me. So he left and the night proceeded as expected. I got so sick that I thought I was bleeding. It was red from the juice. It burned because of the Everclear.
In the end, I found some really good friends who I am still friends with today. Several of the girls have the same story to tell. They were given drinks, started making out, enjoyed that, but then it went too far before they could figure out what had happened. Needless to say, it was legitimate rape. There, I said it. I lost my virginity to a rapist. It was all horribly unpleasant. It was an act of violence. But, the fact is I did not want to have sex. I was given too much to drink, pinned down and never asked. The point is that my story, and those of my girl friends, are fact. They are truth and legitimate. I am so glad I had a choice if I became pregnant through this act. I was never the same after this and have never truly gotten over the experience even though I am married and have two lovely kids.
Well, every good story has to have a happy ending. These new girls I met through Amy from down the hall formed a sisterhood that became our survival through those fun, although trying, years. We had one girl out of the five who was Designated Mom for the weekend. As designated mom, your tray was cleared for you at meals, your room cleaned, and basically you were treated like a queen. In return, you couldn't drink more the one beer. Your job was to make sure all the other girls were behaving themselves, hold their hair back if they didn't, make sure no one got cornered in a room by boy, and everyone made it home safely. Designated Moms is the absolute number one tip for a young lady. So make a smart choice when you are way from mom and designate someone to be your DM and get you home in one piece.
The best choice is freedom to choose. Just put yourself in my shoes. Play the scenarios in your mind. What would you do? Se there, you made a choice.
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