Objectified

The desperation I felt to be loved and accepted only drove me further into stupidity. I was so naive in the ways of the world or even in the ways of boys. I was just focused on that one end goal – being desired. So one of the boys that I had a short relationship became my friend once things ended. He had been pretty sweet and never tried to push me into having sex while we were together. That completely changed once we were just friends.

I don’t know what changed in him, but he now just looked at me as an object. An object to be used to satisfy his desires. For me, even if we were just having sex there was still that small hope surging inside of me that I might get love. So I would go over to his friend’s house with him and have sex with him. It was my choice, he never forced me. But I always walked away feeling so dirty and used. I was so disgusted with myself, and ended it after a short amount of time. His friends all knew what was going on though, so it was official. I was a slut.

I never saw myself that way, but I’m sure quite a few people at my school did after that. I just was so lonely and dependent on these boys to fill my heart with love. They never could, not that they even knew how. I stopped talking to that boy after that, but later in the year he showed up at my house. I still spent hours alone every day while my parents worked, and he knew this. He began banging on the back door, which was near my bedroom. I reluctantly let him in, and he started to get rough with me. He changed in an instant to casual sex minded to rape.

He kept telling me how what he was going to do to me as he chased me around, grabbing me and trying to take off my clothes. I was so scared, and there was no way any neighbors would hear me screaming. They too were all at work. I honestly can’t remember how it happened, but somehow he left me alone. Left the house and I was not raped. This was not the first time something like this had happened to me.

When I was 13 my brother-in-law did the same thing. He came over to my house and at first just knocked on the door. He knew no one else was home with me. But I would not let him in, because I was afraid of him. Earlier that year he had grabbed my bottom while we were in the garage of his house. I was holding my infant niece and my sister was in the house. No one knew about the incident and I was too afraid to tell.

As I sat in the house cowering he kept knocking more insistently. He was fearless though. Soon he was climbing up the side of the house and through the bathroom window to get in. The window was in the back, so no one would have seen him. It was also too high for him to just climb into and too small. I have no idea how he managed to do it, but he was determined. I ran into my parents bedroom and locked the door. I crawled into their bed and covered my head with the blanket. I silently wished for him to go away and not be able to get to me.objectified

He walked around the house looking for me and came to my parents door. Once he realized it was locked he must have guessed that was where I was. He knocked and began talking to me in a gentle voice, trying to convince me to let him in, lying about the reason he was there. Again, my memory fails me of how it happened, but somehow he did not get in that room. He left the house and left me alone.

It was not long after my sister and her husband divorced, but not because of that. She didn’t know about it for many years after. And the boy – I never saw him again. Looking back I have to say that it was no coincidence that I was spared from these incidents. I don’t think I thought much about how I managed to escape until now, because my mind was scarred with fear for so many years. Now as I look into the past I know there is only one way I was saved. It was a miracle.