Sitting around at home can leave a person a lot of time to think. Today, my thoughts drift to my experience being considered a "victim". I dont see myself that way. I cant recall a time when I ever did. Ill tell you my story. Its not horrific. Its not a cry for help. It is not a plea for pity. It is only my story, as best as I can recall. Some details have become fuzzy over the years but, I guess people could say I have learned to block it out.
I met Jimmy a couple of weeks before my 17th birthday. I was a junior in high school. Lonely, bored and tired of sitting at home every day without a boyfriend. I didnt have my license. I was having trouble with my friends. Basically, I was a typical 16 year old girl. It was February 1st. I was sitting at home, chatting online. I went into a chat room. Which one? I cant recall right now. I started chatting about nothing at all. Someone posted "A/S/L" which is the typical way people ask "age, sex and location". If you have ever used a chat room in your life, you probably know that already. I put in "16/f/vt" right after a guy posted "17/m/nh". Excited to find someone near my area of the country... I asked "oh really? where in NH?" He said Keene. Keene, NH was only about 25 minutes from my hometown of Brattleboro. I sent him a private message. We started chatting. Basic BS about school and friends and music and movies and so on. Trust me when I say, red flags never went off in my head. Thank you 16 year old mentality.
Anyone who has watched the news over the past, oh I dont know, 15 years (?) knows the danger of meeting people off the internet. At 16, I thought I could handle anything. We continued to chat. Even exchanged phone numbers that night. I remember my cell phone was shut off so I begged my mother to use hers. Faking that I knew this guy from mutual Keene friends I had met through other Brattleboro friends. We talked. The conversations turned sexual quickly. Right now I would like to say "SORRY MOM" because she probably doesnt want to read this, nor know what kind of person I was then... and I suppose even am, in part, now but this is the reality of it. I was obsessed with sex. What people liked. What they didnt like. What turned them on and off. It fascinated me in the same way a complex math equation fascinates a mathematician. Obsessed is the best way to describe it. I have digressed... I do that a lot but bear with me. Jimmy told me he liked to dominate. I told him I preferred submission. We made plans to hang out the next day. Now here is where someone may begin to judge me. Telling me I should have known better. Made better decisions. You are right. I should have. But that isnt what happened.
Jimmy came to my house after school the next day. February 2nd. My mother met him. Told me to be careful and we left. My mother wasnt aware of how I knew this boy, at least not the truth of it. It wasnt like he introduced himself as "Hi. Im Jimmy and Im a psycho who will attack your daughter at some point" I wasnt about to tell her the truth of how I had met this boy. I thought at the time that God had smiled at me because the boy who had come to my door was, in fact, 17 and a student at Keene High. My luck could have turned it into a 48 year old pedo with murder on his mind. So far, in my mind, I was a lucky girl. Digressing again... Sorry. Anyway... We arrived at his house, where I met his mother, sister and grandparents. We went to his room where we proceeded to have sex. Twice I believe. He was dominating but nothing bad that I could tell. At that point, I had had 5 or 6 lovers already. Fumbling, silly, almost completely inexperienced lovers but at 16, who was I to judge? We had dinner with his family. It was a typical date, besides the sex. We had sex again before we left to bring me home. As we layed on his bed, smoking cigarettes and doing the post coitus cuddle, he said he loved me. This should have thrown up big, huge, blaring red flags with sirens, bells and whistles, but my being as young as I was and in the afterglow, my heart swelled with affection. I said nothing in return... merely an "oh" but my thoughts went to... sure I could love him... sure... why not? He asked me out officially before he dropped me off at home and that was when I became "Jimmy's Girl".
Now I had to get the beginning out. That was the start of it. There were many questions I should have asked. Many things I never thought to ask. It all revolved around sex. What he wanted. What he liked. My obsession had taken me into this boys life and I would be damned before I figured out everything he enjoyed and then leaving him and going about my discovery of sexual awareness.
You have to know that growing up in my home, sex was pretty taboo still. We didnt discuss it. I didnt get the sex talk. My sister did, I remember overhearing it. I had learned about sex a long time before then though. I cant remember who first told me or showed me what it was, but I was curious and I suppose obsessed with how it all worked. I want to make it clear that I was NOT abused as a child. I never saw or was a participant in any twisted "Special Victims Unit" situation. I grew up normally. We moved a lot. That is about all that was really abnormal in my life. Every family has secrets. Black sheep in the family that everyone tries to ignore. Skeletons in the family closet or buried under the family tree. My family is no different. This isnt a place where I would divulge those secrets, but they do exist. Typical crazy American family, thats us. Until this situation with Jimmy, I wasnt close to my mother. Couldnt relate to her. Couldnt talk to her. Couldnt trust her. I feared retribution and retaliation from anything I told her so I kept it all hidden from her. Part of me wanted to prove I could handle the situation all on my own. I wanted to prove I was adult enough to make my own decisions and get out of a bad place without my mommy holding my hand.
Jimmy and I fought for the first time the day before my birthday. February 11th. He told me about how he had had fights with his ex girlfriend. How he had tried to kill himself in front of her. How she had made him angry and broken his heart. We talked for hours. I dont remember what we fought about. I think I said something that didnt seem supportive or in his defense and we had a screaming match. It was the first of many. On the phone and off. He screamed that he would kill himself if I didnt love him. He would hang up on me and not answer for several minutes. I was frantic and delirious with fear and panic. Terrified of what he would do to himself. Something I knew I would later blame myself for. He would finally answer and we would talk and sometimes continue fighting. This is how every argument went on the phone. In person, it was a different story.
Jimmy's need for sex was insatiable. Sometimes 6 or 7 times a day. If I said no, he would scream in my face. Ever defiant, I would scream back. Tell him to please himself and leave me be. That never went over well. He would force me down. Hold me there as he pulled off my jeans or skirt and force himself into me. I didnt think rape at the time. He held me by my throat. By my shoulders. By my hips. I was usually already shaking from being angry and the adrenaline rush from that. I would cry. Scream. Hit him. But I never ran away. I never walked out. I never asked or begged someone for help. I remember the first time I slapped him, he slapped me back so fast and so hard, my ears rang. Instead of dealing with that, I tried not to fight him after a while. Just said "no" over and over. My body could not handle sex that often. After 3 times in a day I would cramp up. After 4 or 5, I got sick to my stomach. 6 or 7 and I was in agony. He would have sex with me as I cried. When I begged for him to stop he would just say "Just let me finish". If I refused him adamantly enough before bed, and he didnt feel like fighting me, he would wait til I slept and violate me then. I would wake up in the middle of the night with him inside of me. After a while, I didnt even make myself wake up. I would try to sleep through it. I was officially in way over my head.
When I had first met Jimmy, I was a casual if not social smoker. I smoked about a pack a week, maybe 2 weeks depending. By April, I was smoking 2 packs a day. After he would force himself on me, he would lay back and hand me a cigarette like some cheesy, horrible 70s porno. Like I said, I didnt think rape or abuse. I thought force. I thought aggressive. I do remember that a couple of times a day, he would pinch me as hard as he could on my breasts. He would laugh that it left heart shaped bruises all over my chest. I remember showing a friend of mine. I suppose that was my only cry for help. All she said was "thats not right..." and left it at that. Never allowed me to talk about it. Never offered me help. I figured if she didnt offer help, it wasnt that big of a deal.
I started doing worse in school. Sleeping through Biology because I couldnt stay awake because of the fighting on the phone all night. Jimmy would pick me up from school almost every day. If he ran late, and I started my walk home. He would pick me up from home and scream at me once in the car. Wondering what I was doing walking. Why I didnt wait for him. It was winter in Vermont. Waiting outside was cold. I would rather walk home and get warm than wait for him. That was the truth of it. He hated that. God forbid I catch a ride with my friends. All hell would break loose.
When it turned to spring, I started my seasonal job at a BBQ place. It was a great reprieve. I got away from him from 3:30-9:00pm. He hated that I was working but, it paid his bills. I paid for everything. Dinner, lunch, his fines from before he met me and he had stolen things from KMart. We went to lunch one day with his brother. They both got food poisoning. We had been in the middle of a fight later that night when he sat down on the floor and wouldnt speak. I asked him what was wrong and he screamed at me "NOTHING" and pushed me over so hard that I bounced my head off the floor. I waited for my vision to clear and stood. He told me to go get his mother so I did. Ever the good girlfriend I was. I waited in the living room where his sister and brother were resting and they asked what that banging noise was. I turned and said calmly "That would be my head bouncing off the floor" They asked if I was okay and I told them it was their brothers doing. His sister repeated my friend's line of "thats not right" and didnt do anything about it. They knew it was happening and did nothing to help me. After one fight I remember his mother coming out after I had gone to the bathroom and was going to his bedroom and she asked me "What did you do to upset him" I was shocked and said nothing. She told me just to try not to piss him off. I had breathed too loudly that day. He kicked me in the head. I am not clear on where I was wrong there.
He also liked to slap me if I showed his brother any affection. His brother had come to live with them after his girlfriend had beaten him across the chest with an aluminum baseball bat. I hugged him while they called the police. He was bawling his eyes out. I kissed the top of his head like a child, and told him it would be okay. Jimmy thought I was flirting. Obviously NOT but I received the slap for it anyway. The very last straw was when his aggression went outward and effected those around me.
I wanted to go to my Junior Prom. Jimmy told me he would not go with me. It was late May at this point. I had bought the tickets off my friend whose boyfriend had to work that night instead of taking her to prom. She just wanted some money back and I wanted to go to prom. I paid her for the tickets before I even asked Jimmy to go with me. I thought as my boyfriend and someone who was hurting me all the time, maybe he would do something for me instead of to me. We fought for hours about it. I told him to fuck off and that I was going with or without him. He said fine that I could go. So I did. I asked my good guy friend to be my date and a good girl friend of mine to hang out with me that night. It was a boring prom for lack of a better word. Not very fun but I tried to make the most of it. When the night was over, I invited my friend and my date back to my house to hang out and watch some movies and just be silly. In the morning, I regretted that decision.
Jimmy knocked on my door at 8 am the next morning. My parents had gone out shopping and he was calling and pounding on the door all morning. Yelling my name and banging on the door. When I answered the door at 10, I told him I had been sleeping. We had a fight, right there in front of my friends. He screamed and I told him it was over. I couldnt take it anymore. My friend told me I was being rash and not thinking right. That I had to talk it over and not just let it go like that. My friend had no idea what was going on. My date from the night before had some idea of what had been happening but he said nothing. My friend invited us all back to her house to drink a little and hang out. So we went. The 4 of us in Jimmy's car.
After drinking a little, Jimmy was always a bit crazy. A little more quick to anger. A little more quick to push. But we did our best to keep the situation light and happy. My guy friend, we can call him C, and I were talking. My female friend, K, was flirting with Jimmy. I didnt really care, she was a flirt anyway and I had been drinking and was done with him mentally anyway. I told them to do whatever. I didnt care. No sex though... they said fine and started making out. C and I walked to the other side of the room and continued our conversation. I turned my back to them, didnt want to see them flirting. It wasnt until C stopped mid sentence and was staring over my shoulder that I paused and heard the distinct noises of Jimmy's excitement. My first thought was SHIT... my second was are you fucking kidding me. I began to cry. Im not sure why, even now. I told C to hold me. That I couldnt think about that happening. It was hard to ignore the sounds though. I heard Jimmy's voice. I heard K's breathing. Or what I thought was breathing. I heard him finish. I got up and walked over and saw that K was bawling. I thought it was from guilt. I told Jimmy that this was ridiculous and I said no sex. He told me he didnt hear me. I hugged my friend to stop her from crying. I was angry but I wasnt going to let her feel that kind of guilt over someone I didnt really care about anymore. Thats when she told me she said no... over and over and he didnt stop. I saw red. I screamed at him. Got in his face over and over telling him he was awful and how dare he when she had been through enough in HER life. In front of me. To rape my friend. How dare he!? He screamed at me that we set him up. That she never said no. If she had, he said he didnt hear her. I didnt believe him. I handed K to C and continued my fight with Jimmy. C was in shock. He didnt say anything. Just sat next to K while she cried. I was angry... we were all angry. I told Jimmy that he had to take me home. C didnt want to leave with him. I told him it was okay... that we would be fine. We dropped off C after a few hours of fighting and screaming at each other and Jimmy dropped me off at home. I couldnt take any more force or aggression. I had to get out.
I waited a few days and then I broke up with him over the phone. I couldnt forgive him. Couldnt see past what he had done to my friend. What he had done to me. Because if it was rape with K, it was rape with me too. So on June 1st, I called it quits with Jimmy. He asked me if he could drop off my things the next day. I told him I had to go to work and I didnt want him just to drop them off because I had to give him his things too. He offered to take me to work so I wouldnt have to walk there. Again, I should have seen the bright red flags and the big blaring sirens but I didnt. I thought I could handle it if he got upset, I had so far.
Jimmy showed up at almost 3 the next day. He seemed okay and my mother asked me if I was alright. I said it was fine, that he was taking me to work and that would be the end of it. We started out for my job and its about a 15 minute drive up there. Jimmy grew more and more upset as he drove. We stopped to get him gas and he was shaking. He started yelling at me that I couldnt leave him. I stayed calm. Told him it was better this way. He had taken the highway to avoid midtown traffic in the middle of the day so we had to circle back to get to my job. He stopped at McDonalds to get a drink because he was getting more and more upset. We were parked in the parking lot at McDonalds when he told me he wasnt going to take me to work. I told him yes he was. He locked the doors and started driving. I tried to open the door over and over, figured Id take the pain of flinging myself from a moving vehicle rather than anything else he had planned for me. He stopped me. Started driving too fast on the roads meant for 35mph. I saw the speedometer at one point and it read 70mph. I was scared. I tried to open my cell phone to dial my mother, all the while screaming for him to let me out. He wouldnt. We passed my job and sped down towards Newfane. Suddenly he slowed down and found a place to turn around. I asked him if he was taking me to work now. He said no. I said than what are you doing? He said "Im going to take you home, and Im going to kill you." Thinking i misheard him or that he was being dramatic I said "You're going to kill me?" Ill admit, I sounded skeptical even to myself even though my heart was beating out of my chest. He said "Yes. Im GOING to kill you." I found my courage and said "OH HELL NO!" and managed to get my phone open. I started dialing and he fought me, swerving the car all over the road, almost killing us both, trying to grab my phone. He finally said "fine, Ill drop you off:" and he did. Across the street from my job which was on the busy road. After he drove off, I started crying. My fear finally catching up with my tears. I waited for what seemed like eternity for the cars to stop to let me cross. I ran into work and was hysterical. I just remember saying "He tried to kill me... he wanted to kill me. He wants me dead..." over and over. I called my mother... I told her he tried to kill me. She had me walk over to my aunt and uncles restaurant which was up the road and she called the police.
It was a terrifying ordeal, but I lived through it. I was fine. I had "survived" a psycho wanting me hurt and or dead. He was arrested. He was convicted of unlawful restraint and was sentenced to 39 months of probation. No jail time. They couldnt prove the rape or abuse. I had no marks. I hadnt reported him before. There was no proof but I was fine with it. I was scared. I really was but what could I do? All that I could do was done. I lived and that was the best I could do at that time.
I told you this story from my life because of this, I refuse to be called a victim of rape and abuse. It was something I experienced. It was something I went through but it is not something I still go through. I tell myself every day that if it hadnt been me, it would have been someone who may not have been able to live through it. Who may not have gotten away. Who he may have actually succeeded in killing. I tell myself that I am stronger for it. I am NOT a victim. Maybe I was when he was hitting me. When he forced himself on me every single day. I am NOT his victim anymore. Not since that day. I have perfectly fine relationships with the men in my life. Though maybe I am promiscuous by some peoples standards, I was to begin with. I was before Jimmy. I dont walk on the other side of the road when I see men who look like him. In fact, at one point a couple years ago, I saw him while I was eating breakfast with my best friend and her then boyfriend at a Friendlys in Keene. He sat almost directly across from me at another table. I looked at him the whole time I was there. It made me sick to see him but I wasnt afraid of him. He saw me. I know he did. He looked dead at me. But I think he knew I wasnt afraid. I am still not. He did his worst. He tried to break me but I am still here. Still living my life and he lives his. I believe he is married and has 2 children now. I wish them the best. I believe he has been in therapy. I hope he is better than he was.
It has been 5 years since then. I dont live as a victim. I enjoy my friends. I enjoy the men I date. I have had good relationships and some not so good relationships but they are always mine. He is not part of them. He doesnt sneak into my mind at an intimate moment. Memories of his abuse do not keep me awake at night or make me struggle against a new lover. My life is completely my own. I am my own person. I dont call myself a survivor, and I dont call myself a victim. I experienced the hand of an abusive and mentally messed up guy and I lived. It was an experience. No better or worse than anything else. I took what I needed from it. I learned a lesson. I have moved on.
I dont want people to think that I dont feel any regret for my part in the abuse. For not walking away when I could have a million times. I made my mistakes but I try not to let them be the driving force of my life. Jimmy is not my tormentor. My advice to other people who share my experience is keep living. The best revenge is moving on. The best therapy is being happy. Forcing yourself to change who you are completely because of something that has happened to you keeps you a victim. Letting them haunt your every experience allows them to hurt you over and over. It isnt easy. Im not saying that the day after he held me in that car I was completely fine and skipped off to school, but I lived. I know many people who have lived through abuse and they live so I took from them and live every day my way. You have to keep pushing. Keep going. I dont mean avoid it. Talk about it. Do NOT be ashamed of what they did to you. It was NOT your choice. You can choose how you live your life. You can choose how you let it effect you. Face your fears, step out of your front door, take a deep breath, and tell yourself "I lived. I am NOT a victim. I get to choose from here on." Fake it til you make it.
But I am NOT a victim.
~Lily
