What a strong strong story for a strong woman.
I was raped.
That’s actually the first time those words have been strung together anywhere but in my head. And that’s not because I am ashamed. No, it’s because society and myself have had me convinced for so long that it wasn’t really rape. I don’t want it to be true because it’s such a nasty, hurtful word, and I know there are women and girls out there who have been raped, and suffered so much more than I did. In fact, I didn’t suffer anything during the actual act, because I was blackout drunk.
I was in a phase. This phase started after I had finally broken up with my verbally, psychologically, emotionally, and physically abusive ex. I was on a power trip, on an attempt to take back the power he had stolen and manipulated from me. I did a pretty good job of proving to myself that…
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