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Occasionally people ask if we would print their story so that it might help someone else. Here are a few stories…
Freshman Female
To Whom It May Concern:
Last year I was a resident of Towers. As a freshman, my recent taste of independence made me feel wonderfully in control of every aspect of my life. I had, like you, long since memorized all the safe sex, birth control and be “careful of rape speeches”. I considered myself relatively street-wise, having traveled alone in New York and Philadelphia and now I was in Morgantown, a safe little town.
The point is that, the week after Spring Break I was beaten and raped at gun-point. Please know that I wrote this letter not to invoke sympathy, but to make you aware of your vulnerability. I never imagined it would happen to me and in working with the police, I learned that rapes occur an average of 3 to 4 times a week in Morgantown.
I’m sure you’ve all discovered magical, glamorous Sunnyside. The night I was raped, I had been out with my friends; it was late and the PRT and buses had stopped running. Of course I knew it was stupid to hitch so I began that long trek back to the dorm.
Eventually, a truck slowed and two guys asked if I wanted a ride. I hesitated, they were friendly and looked clean-cut; besides it was raining and I was tired. What the hell! When we drove past the light at Towers I got nervous. When the gun came out my struggle was quickly ended. There I was out-numbered, confined and utterly powerless. Returning from the secluded area four hours later, they dropped me off at Kroger’s parking lot naked and hysterical but relieved to be alive. …If only I had kept walking or spend $2.50 for a cab. It would have saved me hundreds of dollars in investigative and medical fees but most of all my self-respect and faith in human nature.
It is sad that there are such twisted, demented creeps out there but we are not helpless and need not live in terror. We all can take steps to reduce our susceptibility. Keep in mind that although women are the most common victims of rape, males are vulnerable too. Rape is the 2 nd most serious crime after murder. The trauma induced is incredible and the long-term psychological effects are, for some, detrimental for the rest of their lives.
In addition I would like to say that not all guys are sadistic sex maniacs. In fact, with one exception, in all my nineteen years I have encountered only normal, fun-loving guys. The trouble is until you’ve spent sometime with someone in a safe (public) situation you can’t tell the good guys from the bad guys. What does a rapist look like? They aren’t always the tongue-wagging, beer bellied old men. In my case they were a few years older than me, all American types. They were repeat offenders and they were never caught.
I am not an especially pretty girl; I dress conservatively and there is nothing sleazy about me. IT CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE. I wish I could say honestly that I’m not trying to scare you… I am if it will keep you safe. If anything positive can come off what happened to me, it would be preventing your rape.
Do the right thing….please don’t hitch hike.
Thank you for your time.
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Acquaintance Assault at 16 years old.
I am 16 years old. I was raped by my (now-ex) boyfriend. I started going out with him when I was 15 and he was 17. My friends worried about him being older, but I never did because I knew about his “promise ring”…a ring from his parents promising he’d save sex for marriage, and it was so important to him, I thought he’d never break the promise. Well on July2, 1997 that all changed. We’d been going out for almost 4 months at the time. (I’ll call him Rich). Ok Rich worked at this farm, and he wanted me to come see it. So I went. At first it was a lot of fun, there were so many kittens, and cows, which are cute, and the other guy who was there, Jeff is really funny. So I had fun. I still remember everything about that day but I’ll spare you all the details. One thing though… Rich and Jeff kept going off and talking during the day, so I think he planned this. Anyways…when we were doing to leave, he told me he wanted to show me the farm house, first, because it was such a mess. So in we went, and it was, it was the most disgusting place I’d ever seen, I couldn’t believe anyone could live there! We walked in and he says “I wonder what it’s like upstairs”. So up we went. We got up there and he said “I wonder where he sleeps”. Of course I trusted him and didn’t expect anything to happen so I followed him into the room. We walked in and he closed the door and came over and started kissing me, which was no problem. Then he put me down on the bed. Then he was pulling off my shorts. That’s when I realized what he was doing and I told him to stop and he said “You’ll be fine”, and continued to say that every time I protested. I didn’t want to do this, I was a virgin, I was only 15, I wasn’t ready…. I tried to get him off but he just pushed me down with one hand while he took off his shorts with the other. He’s a lot bigger than me so what could I do? He just kept saying “you’ll be fine”. Then his penis was in me and it hurt soooooo bad, and I told him he was hurting me but he said “you’ll be fine”. He kept pushing harder and harder and I couldn’t take it, I was scared and hurt and started to cry. I just kept thinking “oh my god…I’m having sex…in some guy I don’t even know’s bed…and I don’t even want to…” Then the guy pulled into the driveway and Rich jumped up and pulled his pants on an threw mine at me and out we ran. We got in his car and he turned on the radio and started talking just like everything was ok. He dropped me off and kissed me goodbye and said he’d call me, as if nothing had happened. I ran into the house and got a shower, but it felt like he was still on me, I felt so dirty. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all evening, I thought for sure my parents would know! But they didn’t. that was the first incident in a long line of them. All in all, we had sex more than 20 times (all I know is I quit counting at 16) and I can only remember 1 where I really wanted to. At first I was very resistant to him, I did not want to have sex, but he would make me, anyways. Then I went through a period where I didn’t care anymore, I could care less what happened to me, and at least someone wanted me for something. So I would let him do whatever he wanted. Then we broke up for a day. That night my friends found out we’d had sex, and I got several lectures. So I told him I didn’t want to have sex anymore. He said ok… but he did anyways, whether I cooperated or not. Then came a scare…we thought I was pregnant. I was scared to death and told him I’d never do it again, and he said he understood. But then I got sick at marching band practice so he drove me home and no one was there. He said he’d take me to my room, so he carried me up and put me on my bed. Then he raped me. I told him to stop because we’d decided not to do that and I might be pregnant, and I was sick. But he said “you’ll be fine”. Then, we found out I wasn’t pregnant, I told him again I wasn’t going to have sex. But he came over one day and begged and said it’d be the last time, he promised. Was it the last time? No. one morning he calls and says he’s coming over, it woke me up. So I jump in the shower and when I get out, he is laying there on the stairs looking at me. He used the key and got in. I was only wearing a towel so I said I’d get changed and then go downstairs…but instead he followed me into my room…there were so many times! Other times he would make me have anal sex…he’d keep pushing my head down and shoving his penis further down my throat, I’d be choking, but he’d say “You’ll be fine”. I’ll stop rambling now. That is my story.
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David’s X-girlfriend
To My Best Friend: David,
Although, it was unquestionably the right thing to do, I had not planned ahead of time to break up with you on Friday night. Therefore, I handled it relatively poorly, having taken no time to organize my dissatisfactions into a coherent explanation. However, my mistake in no way justified yours.
On Saturday, you came over and demanded an explanation of me. You forced me to put on my contacts so that I would have to look you in the eyes as I explained to you why I’d “really” broken up with you. As I tried to explain more thoroughly, you several times forced my face back towards you as I would glance away in thought. You said, “Half of me wants to smash your face in, but the other half wants to be as close to you as I can.” You started to kiss me. I repeatedly turned my head away, breaking off your kisses. I was crying, sometimes sobbing so that I had trouble breathing as you were kissing me. I said “no” several times, but you persisted in kissing and touching me. I stopped you from taking my shirt off about five times, saying “no” and still crying. You told me that you had to be as close to me as you possibly could, or you would hate me and make me hate you. I was confused—I love you but I kept telling you that I didn’t want this, that I couldn’t be in a relationship right now. You said you understood but you still needed to be as close to me as you could. So we had sex. I cried, physically trembling and shaking, throughout most of it. You did not use a condom. After you pulled out and had an orgasm on my back, you tried to rub me into an orgasm, too. Finally I explained that I was too upset, and I knew I would not have one, so that you should just stop. You stopped. Within two or three minutes you raised the possibility of pregnancy to me. You said, “if you find our in a week or two that you are pregnant, TELL ME”. And then, “if you have an abortion, I WILL SEE YOU BURN”. I asked “here, or in the afterlife?” You said “both.” If you abort my child, I will see you burn in Hell.” Shortly thereafter you left. I took a shower. I was so angry I was shaking, then I went straight to find you. I asked you to come to my room because what I had to say was something you would want kept private, and I would prefer it that way also. After briefly telling you what you’d done was wrong, and that you could in no way excuse it just because I had done a poor job breaking up with you last night, I told you to GET OUT. Then I went downstairs to lunch. My legs were shaking so violently that I had to hold on to the stairway railing, and still fell once as they gave out under me. Since this occurred, I have not been able to get any homework done. I have had a migraine headache and a sinus headache so badly that I’ve had to take both Midrin and Tylenol-5 (codeine). I have not been able to concentrate on anything, not even just watching TV or a movie, let alone reading. I start crying at odd times and cant stop. I have been sick at my stomach and taking antacid to relieve some of that pain. I am exhausted but it has been very hard to fall asleep, and when I do I keep waking up.
I am extremely angry at you. You hurt me so much. You were my best friend, and I don’t know how I feel toward you now or how I ought to feel. It is especially hard to go through this alone, but I don’t feel I should tell anyone, because I am confused. I called the Sexual Assault Crisis line to describe what happened, because I feel violated and like control has been taken away from me, but I don’t want to call this rape. They said that this is acquaintance rape, because I told you to stop in many ways and you didn’t. even though I eventually consented, I did so under coercion. You told me you wanted to smash my face in. you used our friendship. I love you—or, I did love you—now I don’t know. But regardless of now, I know that I did love you and I couldn’t “make you hate me.” I had to sleep with you. Then, after you CHOSE not to use protection (a condom), you brought up the issue of pregnancy, and threatened to kill me if I had an abortion. You know from many past discussions that I am not ready to bear a child at this point in my life, and that if I get pregnant now, I think I will abort. Therefore, that was not “just a statement,” as you claimed, but a Threat. And if you are so concerned about the possibility of pregnancy, why didn’t you use a condom? You know they are sitting in my desk drawer. Your size, even, so you can’t complain about them being too tight. You may be thinking, “But I pulled out.” So what? You and I both know that small amounts of semen are released in pre-ejaculatory fluid. It’s as if you decided to play Russian roulette with me--- having unprotected sex with me, so that maybe I’d get pregnant, knowing that if I did I would abort, and then you would murder me. It doesn’t matter HOW angry you were at me or HOW badly you thought I broke up with you, there is no way what you did was right. It was wrong I am hurting. This morning I woke up at 5 am, unable to sleep. I was so upset. I shredded the towel that you used to wipe yourself off with after sex, and then I cut my arm three times with the same knife. I left my room and wandered around so that I would be away from razor blades, knives and pills. I do not feel I can talk to my family about this, and I do not feel that I can talk to my friends because they know you and because my feelings about you are all mixed up right now, I am not SOLELY angry enough to vilify you to your roommates, even though they are some of my closest friends. I cant talk to anybody about how depressed, helpless, and angry this makes me feel – you are the one I talked to. I want you to admit that you were wrong to coerce me into having sex with you yesterday and then threaten me. I want you to apologize. I don’t know if I can forgive you. Part of me wants to, because I know that although you make a serious, hurtful mistake, you are a good person and have in the past been a good friend. But another part of me just wants to lash out at you and myself. I keep thinking that I shouldn’t have let you do it. BUT THIS IS NOT MY FAULT. I want you to apologize.
-Lorien-
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Jack M., Rapist
By Jack M. (An excerpt from the Manhattan Spirit)
I raped a woman. I do not believe that I am a pathological sex offender, but all the same, I raped. I don't think I am a bad guy. I have a college degree in the arts from a prestigious school and I get along well with my parents, who are still married. I do not hate women or the world, or myself, for that matter. My female friends, as well as many of my ex-girlfriends, think I am a bright, caring, understanding person. But all of that did not keep me from raping. I did not understand that what I did was rape until about a year ago. What made me finally recognize my crime was the recent surge in media cover about date rape. I went to a New York City bar, scamming‹ looking of someone to bed for the night‹ with some of my friends. We had already been drinking steadily and by the time we got there, we were still coherent but basically numb. Through the entire night, even though I was drinking, I remained in control of my body. The booze made me feel invincible, immune to rejection. That night, whatever I wanted I was going to take, and nothing was going to stop me. I met her at the bar. She was from England and had come to New York for a short time to tour with a musical revue. When I walked in I knew I wanted to bed this girl. I wanted to have sex that night, and she looked like an inviting prospect. That was a period in my life when I was "slutting" heavily. I would pick a woman up at a bar and sleep with her the same night. I started to think I was entitled to sex. After talking a girl up and buying her a few drinks, I would do everything I could to make her go to bed with me. Usually she was willing. Sometimes it took a little more work to convince her. She had only recently arrived and did not know much about the city. We talked for a while and a mild seduction took place. It was clear she'd been drinking before I arrived, and we had three or four drinks together. As the alcohol made her less guarded, I convinced her that I was interested in what she was saying and was beginning to really care about her. Our thighs rubbed together, my arm brushed against her breast. I was getting to her. We drank some more and I grew confident that I was not going home alone that night. She was staying at a friend's place downtown, and I assumed that when we left together, it meant she was going over to my place. I always had a secret agenda with women. I would do anything I could to seduce them. I would use empathy, understanding, humor, even my deepest secrets to get them on my side. I would show that I was a sensitive guy and use that for the sole purpose of bedding them. This time I used a woman's drunkenness and unfamiliarity with the city for my purposes. Once I had her out of the bar, she had no friends to help her, no one to call, nowhere to go except where I wanted her to go. We started walking and she asked, "Where are we going?" and I said, "Just walking," knowing that we were heading in the direction of my apartment. We would stop sporadically and make out. During one heavy session, I said to her, "Come back to my place," and she refused. I said, "What do you mean, no? This is New York City. You don't leave a bar with a guy and not sleep with him. C'mon, this isn't England, this is the big city! This is how we do things." She still refused, but I could tell I was influencing her with that ridiculous line. We walked some more, all the time getting closer to my apartment, and I used that line time and time again as I took her through unfamiliar streets. We reached my apartment and I asked her if she wanted to come up. She said no, and I said, "Just come up for a little bit and then I'll take you back." That sat better with her, and I congratulated myself for the brilliant sell. We got up to my apartment and I began kissing her, but now she was not responding like she did on the street. I asked her, "What's the matter?" But she just stared blankly past me. I began to touch her more aggressively, squeezing her breasts, rubbing the inside of her thighs. Still no reaction. I felt like I was fondling a rag doll. Not that I cared. I did not need any response to get what I wanted. I eased her down on the bed. She did not resist me but moved like dead weight, staring straight ahead and grinding her teeth furiously. "Christ, what a repulsive sound," I said, and I thought maybe she was trying to turn me off enough so I would stop what I was doing. I was not going to stop now. She was half naked on my bed with no one around. I was going to have this girl. I began removing her pantyhose and she firmly crossed her legs. Grinding her teeth and tensing her body were the only ways she could safely express her fear. Here was a girl in a dark apartment with a man she had never met before who could have easily killed her, in a city that he had described to her as a moral vacuum. She did not cry, scream, or fight. The sex lasted about a minute or two, and when it was over, I had the familiar aftertaste left by unsatisfying sex. My coercive power, which had been so relentless five minutes before, was spent. The manipulative force I'd used had left me empty. I did not want this girl sleeping in my bed. I also did not want to walk her home. She sat up in bed and said she wanted to leave. By now it was four AM and I could not let her go out alone, even if she did know how to get back. "Just sleep over," I said reluctantly. "You can leave when it's light out." She did sleep over, and didn't stop grinding her teeth through the entire night. My male friends say they have been in similar situations. One said, "I feel guilty, but what can you do? You try not to make the same mistake again." Others do not see that what they did was wrong. Another friend told me, "I did something like that once, but I don't think it's rape. Come on, it's not like you forced her to have sex with you." But didn't I force her? What constitutes force? Do I have to threaten her life? Do I have to physically hurt her as a way of making her submit? If I were walking in a dangerous and unfamiliar neighborhood and a man twice my size walked up to me on a deserted street and said, "Give me your money," I would probably hand it over. I would think, "This guy could easily kill me. He did not threaten me, but merely demanded I give him something. I could run, but I would not know where to go for help. I may lose my money and feel violated, but it is better than having him kill me." I feel now that the power to rape is still inside me. Now, when I meet a woman and see that she likes me, I am very cautious not to make the first move. I will talk to her, still possibly thinking about being intimate with her, but I will not seduce. I will not try to pull desire out of her, whether it is there or not. Even after she makes the first move, and things progress to sex (now a matter of days or weeks later, instead of hours), I am far less aggressive and far more careful in my actions. Until I understand my own power, I will not use it. I never want to rape again.
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James Howie, victim
By a reporter:
Rape can happen to men, too. James M. Howie has the mental and physical scars to prove it. Howie, a participant in a seminar on date rape at Laidley Hall Monday night, said a woman assaulted him when he refused to have sex with her. “For all you men who are doubting, it can happen to you”. Howie, a 23 year-old bartender at Bentleys in Charleston, said he met the older woman three years ago at Wallie B’s bar in Tampa, Fla. “She was 26 years old. She seemed normal at first,” Howie said. They had been dating for five weeks when he decided the relationship wouldn’t work and decided to tell her over dinner at a restaurant. “She didn’t take it very well,” Howie said. “She was very upset. That night she kept calling me. After the third time I knew I wasn’t going to get any peace so I let her come over. I felt bad that I had hurt her, and the least I could do would be to comfort her – get her through the night.” Howie said when he refused to have sex with her, she got up and stormed around the house screaming obscenities. “I thought if I just laid there, she would wear herself out. Wrong answer. I heard her come into the room. Suddenly she ripped the sheet away from my body and came at me with a paring knife. It was an act of violence basically induced because I refused to have sex with her. I was lucky. I could have been killed.” Howie suffered severe knife wounds on one arm. Those eventually healed, but Howie is still dealing with the psychological aftermath of the attack. He said the woman was arrested and then released to a treatment center. Despite the attack, he expressed concern for her well-being. “I’d like to know if she’s O.K.” Howie underwent therapy for a year after the incident. “I still have problems feeling comfortable around women. Yeah, I’m scared.”
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TO THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED
It happened to me too. You’re not alone.
I couldn’t believe such a thing could happen. I thought it was a nightmare. I was sure I’d wake up and it wouldn’t be real. I didn’t want it to be real.
Why was I picked to be the victim? Was there something I could have done? Could I have fought or stopped it somehow?
I thought I was going to die. I didn’t want to die. I thought about it all the time. In the middle of work, dinner, talking I would blank out and remember. I tried to push it out. I worked extra hours, filled every minute, but it always came back. I was afraid I’d go crazy.
I was sure people knew or would find out. I was different. They could look at me and somehow see it on my face. I tried to hide all my feelings all the time so they wouldn’t find out. I was so ashamed and completely alone.
I hated being afraid all the time. I didn’t feel safe anywhere. I was always bracing for an attack. Feeling like a target. I wondered how women live with such fear. How could they stand it? Did they look at me with the kind of terror I felt? I knew I was losing my mind.
It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to suffer alone. There are people who can help. People who understand. Others, like me who’ve been there. Don’t let this destroy you.
This has nothing to do with your masculinity or sexuality. Rapists are sick people who strike at random. It’s not your fault.
You didn’t want to die, that’s nothing to be ashamed about.
You’ll make it. You’re not going crazy. You’ve been badly hurt. Get help for yourself and anyone who’s trying the share the burden with you. You deserve it and you need it.
Get help. It will ease the pain. You don’t have to go through this alone.
You’re stronger than you think you are. It takes a lot of strength to face this. You’ll make it I know … because I did .
1981 Adapted from a conversation with a man who had been sexually assaulted and counseled at The Rape Crisis Program, St. Vincent’s Hospital and Medical Center of New York, (212) 790-068/69
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"I was Arrested for Date Rape"
“How did it go last night?” Bob asked.
“Real well,” Craig said. “Her name is Cindy and she’s a freshman, but very hot looking. I met her during orientation. I saw her on campus yesterday and invited her to go to the party.”
“Well, go on, give me the details,” Bob mused.
“When we got to the party we danced almost all night. She must have had at least nine beers and she was starting to slur a little. I figured it was time to make my move. So I put my arm around her waist. I could tell she really liked it so I kissed her. Then, she said, “Let’s get out of here. It’s a little too crowded, don’t you think?”
“Of course she wants it, so I bring her back to the room. We had a couple more drinks and then started to make out. The rest is history – another virgin bites the dust.”
“You mean she gave it up just like that?” Bob asked.
“Well,” Craig said, “It wasn’t that easy. First she said ‘NO.’
Bob interrupted. “Did she put up a fight?”
“Not really,” Craig said, “she said ‘no’ again, but you and I both know no means yes. I did a little convincing, and the fact that she was drunk didn’t hurt.”
“When are you going to see her again?” Bob asked. “I’m gonna call her tonight, maybe hit a movie or something.” Craig replied.
There was a knock on the door. Standing outside were two University Police Officers. They took Craig in for questioning.
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