Why I Didn’t Report

Trigger warning: sexual assault, marital rape, heedless mother at best/neglectful if I’m honest.

the first time I was raped I was a child, a virgin. I was in a place I wasn’t supposed to be and no one knew what I was doing. Sitting outside in the sunshine reading seems so innocuous… I don’t remember what I was reading. I remember the grass under me, the smell of a sunny fall day. I didn’t see him, I didn’t hear him coming, to this day I have no idea who broke me that day. I didn’t report because he told me where I lived and that my parents were never home. When it came out much later my mom believed the police who said it wasn’t likely. She accused me of lying. Even if I had reported no one was on my side.
the second time I was married. I had a baby sleeping upstairs above my head. There was a fight and then what I thought would be a comforting embrace. I walked willingly into the arms of my husband… my rapist. He stole my words, my safety, my body. “Are you ok?” He asked after I came to bed. “I don’t know…” I replied. No one would ever believe me. Unlike my first rape this was quiet and rough, but not physically damaging. I froze, “tonic immobility” is the term for it. I didn’t say no. I didn’t fight. Tears streamed down my cheeks as shock took over my system. A baby was conceived from that night. Over a year of continual trauma with a man who claimed he loved me. I didn’t report because he was the man I loved and no one would believe me…
Submitted by: Anon

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