I’m Not a Whore for Being Raped!

Posted by on December 10, 2015 | 0 comments

I’m Not a Whore for Being Raped!

I grew up being called a whore according to my other 2 brothers who didn’t know what the 1 brother did to me until last year. So why did they tell me daily that I was a whore, a slut, and a bitch, multiple times a day. Why did they tell all their friends that I was just a stupid little whore, a stupid little slut, and f’ing little bitch. Why did they hate me so much? Why do they tell me now that they care and then completely abandon me . . . again?

I have so many questions, but very few answers. I am angry and hurt. My mom blamed it all on my dad, explaining that he wouldn’t let her take me to the doctor so that my brother didn’t get into trouble. She said that he wouldn’t let her protect me.

Why then, when I was raped by a neighbor in Alaska, did she not protect me? As a mother, if my 12-year-old daughter came home from hanging out with a much older, twice her age, neighbor, unable to walk, puking all over, covered in blood, with bruises all over her body, I sure as hell wouldn’t just do nothing! That’s what happened to me. She even let the guy’s mom come over and tell me that I was a whore and tell me it was all my fault.

He took me out snowmobiling, got some wine coolers and I think he put something in mine. I don’t remember most of the rest of the day except that I was on my period, he had put me over a stool so that I could pee and then left me there to fall into my bloody urine. I remember him kissing me and touching my vagina, I remember trying to run away from him and kicking over a garbage can that he had started a fire in. I wasn’t able to drive my snowmobile back home. He had to drive one and then run back and drive the other in front. I wasn’t taken to the hospital the police were never called. All I want is justice and support. I want to stop feeling so angry.

After I came back to Washington I just stayed away from my dad’s house and stayed with friends. One friend in particular lived with her father. He always treated me like I was special, he told me that I was his favorite, he made me feel really special, something I had never felt before. He was the best father figure I had but at some point or maybe it was gradual and I couldn’t see it, he began making comments to me about my body and occasionally touching my butt. It was usually very subtle, sometimes more overt. Occasionally he would talk about us getting married sort of in a joking manner, which he later told me it was a joke, but one morning I woke up and he was lying in bed with me, fully clothed, but there was a line crossed. I called him on it and he told me that I was dreaming and that it had not happened. It was then that I decided he didn’t really care about me, otherwise he wouldn’t have lied and made me think it was all my imagination or a dream. I never really saw it as a very big deal just that it created some awkwardness. It was several years later that I could see the violation there and that he must have been grooming me for more.

Janessa, United States

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