After I was raped I had a really hard time even being touched. I spent the night with Daddy the following week and every time he came near me I shut down. Even hand-holding was hard for me. I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. It was like my own body wasn’t mine anymore. Being violated had taken it from me.
As time passed my emotions began to thaw. I started to feel disgusted with my body. Disgusted with what had happened to me. I felt dirty. I felt damaged. I felt undesirable. I felt sexless.
I built walls real and imagined around my body. I couldn’t stand to see myself naked. To touch myself. I didn’t want anyone else to either.
A month after I was raped, as I was lying in my bed where it happened, I decided I wanted my sex back. I wanted that part of me that he’d damaged back. So for the first time in a month, I masturbated. Inserting my Pure Wand broke something in my mind and I started to cry. I was uncomfortable but I didn’t stop. I wept silently while I worked my way towards an orgasm. After I came, I began to cry in earnest. An ugly, draining cry that lasted over an hour. I exhausted myself and I fell asleep.
I can’t explain why I felt compelled to push myself, I just know that I don’t want what happened to me to keep me from moving forward and trying to get back to a place where I can be completely intimate with someone again.
It was like the pendulum sung from sexless to hypersexual. I am still struggling with how to handle my sexuality because it’s almost like I might be acting out at the moment as opposed to actually having tapped into my sex drive. I’m trying to convince myself I’m ok by performing the way I should sexually.
But I digress…
I got in contact with the Ex-Boyfriend because I knew he was a safe option. I knew if we talked about it beforehand and I told him what had happened previously that maybe, I could have sex. I trusted him. I knew if I had to push him away or stop him, he wouldn’t get upset or internalize it. There was enough time and distance between us for that to be possible.
When he messaged me to say he was on his way, I almost threw up. I felt sick and scared and I thought I was fucking nuts in the moment. He came over and I was in my favourite jammies (such a sex-kitten I am). He unzipped his coat, like he always used to do then I hugged him and he wrapped me up in it. Without fail, I had the response I have every time I see him, which is, “damn he smells good!”. So I was beginning to feel an odd mixture of arousal and nausea – interesting and not at all compatible feelings. We took things incredibly slow. Finally we were naked and there was really only one thing left to do at that point. I almost called the whole thing off in that moment. Yes, I wanted him but I was terrified I was going to freak out or start bawling or throw up. My face betrays my every thought so he asked me if I still wanted to have sex and I said yes.
This might sound cliché but in some ways it felt like having sex again for the first time. I was emotional but not crying. So many thoughts were running through my head that even now I can’t make sense of them. He held me and cradled me and whispered softly in my ear. He waited patiently for me to come around, to relax, to let go, to enjoy being together intimately again. He kissed me and held me and touched me in such an incredibly caring and gentle way – it was astonishing really. After everything we’ve been through together there is still a tremendous amount of love there.
I did come around. I did start to enjoy it. To let go. To not feel afraid. I had two delicious orgasms in varying positions and then he put me on my hands and knees…all of the sudden the fear and anxiety came flooding back. I crawled away from him, crying and curling into a ball. He tried to touch me and I pulled away. He pulled me in and held me, again whispering. This time he was apologizing. I cut him off. My outburst wasn’t his fault. I had a flashback. Being in that position triggered me in a way I hadn’t experienced since my rape.
He held me close for a while. We talked, got caught up on our lives and eventually, I decided to give it one more try. I know physically he wanted to but I could sense his hesitation after what had happened. I urged him on.
Finally, when we were both sated, we laid there not saying much but I realised how safe I felt again with someone in my bed. How I could have sex again and not feel violated or dirty or used.
I won’t be inviting anyone new to my bed in the near future but I know that if and when the time is right, I could.