Friday, 6 of December of 2013

twenty three

twenty three
Twenty three years ago today I lost my virginity. I have written about it a few times (this one, written two years ago, provides the details:a lifetime ago and I’m still learning…) but the gist is that I was raped by a 16 year old boy in my church youth group. I told him no, he didn’t take no for an answer was basically how it went down.
It’s funny, I have long since gotten over being angry. I had something stolen from me and have every right to be full of hatred. But somehow looking over the course my life took after that, it seems like it was meant to be: an experience I was meant to bear, something that has shaped me into who I am. And I think I am a pretty decent person so I can’t be resentful. I forgave that boy a long, long time ago.
I stalked him on Online Dating a couple of years ago near the anniversary. It appears he is married and has a son and owns a business. Good for him. I wonder if he ever thinks about me and that fateful July afternoon?
If I’d gotten pregnant and had a child by him, he or she would be 22 years old. That’s a pretty crazy thought. Here I think I am too young to be a mom to a 15 year old but I sure as hell am too young to be a mom to a 22 year old.
The last two weeks have been an emotional roller coaster for me, mainly due to my volatile primary relationship, or whatever you want to call it these days. It truly defies labels. But today I am going to remember this date and how far I’ve come and that I’m a survivor.
I am refusing to ride this coaster any more. I am going with him to see the symphony tonight. I want to sit and close my eyes and absorb the music and let peace seep into my soul. I want to be still. And breathe. And be grateful for all of these things, good and bad, that have molded me into me.

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