Dear Rape,

Alrighty, this one is going to be a little different. I am going to share the dirty details of something I haven't really told anyone. It is going to probably be graphic, so as cheesy as this sounds, reader discretion is advised. Well, here goes nothing, a story no one has truly heard all of. Names have been altered, but this is nothing short of true.

I am 19. When I was 16 I started dating my first boyfriend. He was my first kiss, my first lover. I gave him everything. When the relationship started, I was obviously a virgin. However, he pressured me into everything. Everytime we hung out or went out to do something, I was pressured to do something sexual. He used to say if I loved him it is what we were supposed to do. I finally caved. I willingly caved into having sex with him. He convinced me. I felt gross before, during and after. After losing my virginity to him, I didn't know what to do. Do you cuddle? I didn't feel like cuddling. Do you say I love you? I didn't love him though. What is the appropriate action right after? I can't answer that. But I can tell you what I did. I went running. I needed to get away, get out. I felt so disgusting. Not because I had sex, because that is a normal human process, but because I had sex with someone I virtually didn't have feelings for... in any way.

Now, let me paint you a picture. The boy I was with, was not built like a boy. He was 6'2 and weighed probably 260. He was a big guy. Now, picture that next to a female who is 5'3, and 130. That alone is scary. But, it got worse. After I had sex with him, I tried to make it work. I decided that I needed to be with him, because I lost my virginity to him... I was a church goer before I met him, so was convinced if I stayed with him and married him that might somehow make up for the fact  I didn't wait until marriage. That didn't make sense looking back on it... but at the time it sounded good. I did everything I could for him. Tried to help him with schooling and football. Oh yeah, he was a football player... pretty well-known at the school.

It started turning for the worse soon after I had sex with him. It just got worse and worse. It started with the comments about my clothing. Whether I was wearing enough clothing or not. My shoulders suddenly were constantly covered, and I stopped wearing shorts because he would comment on showing too much skin. From there it got worse. The accusations of cheating started. He became so possessive I was suffocating. Just dying it seemed.  I wasn't allowed to have friends, and my family were fooled by how nice he made himself seem.

I was accused of cheating with my co-workers, friends, and even my best friend who is female. He went crazy. Was so possessive. And then there was that one night... It was new years eve. My parents went out of town and I told him he could come over and stay the night with me. We were just hanging out. And he started in with the kissing, and the touching. I was okay with it at first. I was flirting and teasing back. He would get a little pushy, and I would push him away. Then he started getting a little more aggressive, pinning me to the bed. The sheets were cold on my shoulders. I put my hands against his chest and pushed him away. I told him I didn't want to do this tonight. He didn't get it. His reply "Well you started it, you have to finish it."  I told him I didn't. I was just being playful. He said I had to. I said, "It's my body, I said no. You can't do anything about it. His response was simply, "Want to bet."

My knees were pushed on either side of my head. My shorts were pulled down my thighs, breaking the button on them. His weight was so heavy, felt like crushing my chest. He pulled his shirt over his head. I tried to push back against him. Tried to move away. I was just tossed back on the bed like a rag doll. I couldn't scream. I mean I had to make things work, otherwise I was going to commit this awful sin according to my church. I mean I had to marry him so that I didn't break the rules completely. My shirt was suddenly on the floor by my bed. My knees pinned to the bed next to my head. It hurt, I wasn't naturally that flexible. I tried to fight him one more time as he dropped his basketball shorts. It was like pushing against a solid brick wall. It didn't work. I gave in. I quit fighting. I knew if I continued to struggle it would just hurt.

Even laying still it hurt. I hated it. I wasn't going to cry though. I refused. I was stronger than that. Too strong to cry. There was so much going on. Hands everywhere, sweat dripping from his face onto my neck. His grip on my neck, the awful grunting, and the smell of old spice cologne choked me more than he did. Thoughts raced through my head. I was panicking. I forgot to take the pill that morning. I was screwed. I couldn't tell him that. He told me he wanted me to quit taking them anyway. I was so scared. And then, I just kind of felt calm. No, I felt numb. I couldn't fight him.  I couldn't stop what was already happening, so I just fell silent, and waited....and waited...

When he was finished with me, he insisted on cuddling. I still wasn't going to cry. I wouldn't. I couldn't. I had to be tough. That is what I had always been. My stomach hurt. I needed to puke, but wasn't allowed to get up. He fell asleep. His arm so heavy on my waist. I was shaky. I couldn't help it. He woke up in about an hour. Stood up, let me get up, and there on the bed was one of the most heart wrenching things I had seen. There was a spot of blood, about the size of Frisbee. I hadn't notice I was bleeding. I just didn't want to move. He had us take a shower together. I still felt gross. After showering, I pulled the sheets from my bed, and washed them.

I never had to tell anyone. And I didn't. I spent the next 5 months with him. I was going to make it work. It wasn't until someone I am very fond of, took me out of town for the night without my phone or anything, and convinced me it was time to leave him. I agreed. I did it. There was a huge blow out, and violent reactions. He punched a window above my head. He scared me. He still does. And even at the end of it, the last thing he had to say to me was, "But I loved you." That's not love. Not at all. And I know that now.

So, here is the story I have only told to one or two people. (Please don't report it to any law enforcement, I have already done that). And here is my call out to other girls. Don't EVER let something like this keep you from telling someone, even if it is just to share and get it off your chest. Don't EVER let someone bully you around, because you have options. And lastly, Don't EVER let it affect your self-esteem, because you are way more important than some guy like this is going to let you feel. If anyone needs anything, please comment on this with your email address, and  I will be happy to just listen to your stories or give you advice. Remember, you are important, and beautiful.
                             -xoxo, Jessi.

Dear New Job,

     I was just given the position as Editor-in-Chief of the Front Page Newspaper... For me, this is HUGE. I almost gave up on my Journalism dreams, but then I was given this opportunity and it really made me realize, that this is what I am meant to do. There is nothing I love more, and there is nothing that I would want to put my heart and soul into like Journalism. I am beyond stoked. I will admit I am very nervous, but I will make it work, I know I will. :) This was a small post, but guess what, I am sure I will keep you all updated with more little notes about how the new gig is going.
             -xoxo, Jessi.

Dear Moving On,

      I have quite the track record with you. It is so true. My parents are to the point they know nothing is solid for more than a year. Also true. I broke up with my boyfriend two days ago. It was tough. Probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, but I needed to. I realize, after two days, I am already feeling less bogged down. I am not an innocent person in our relationship, and I accept my mistakes. About a week before our relationship was over, I found comfort with someone else, which in all honesty is a sugar-coated way of saying I fooled around on my boyfriend. I am not proud of that. Not at all. I normally would have never ever done that, but you know, I am not going to be upset, or be mad at myself for it. And here is why. I felt beautiful, and sexy. I felt freaking important for once. I am not proud of it. But damn did it make sense to me at the time.
     I never ever would wish ill-will to my ex. Never. He will make someone happy, especially when he grows up. Unfortunately I just felt that I was slightly more mature than him, in a lot of ways. It isn't fair of me to say that I am a ton more mature than him. But in most ways, I feel like he didn't have the future in mind. And that is a huge issue for me. I am very proud of the person he molded me into, and I hope I had the same effect on him. However, I just don't think that we are suited to be together long term. So, as for now, I am going to focus on my schooling, my career, and just having fun without the scary commitments. That is what I want. I won't ever forget our relationship, nor do I regret a thing, I just think it is time for us to move forward. More posts today, I have to catch everyone up, and I have been very busy, so get prepared for two or three in a row here.
                 -xoxo, Jessi.