A
Aliceinwonderland91
Firstly, I'm sorry this is so long. Secondly, I have refrained from detailing my emotions at the time of these events because while they were happening I viewed them completely differently. Now, having finally spoken to someone about them, it is like a veil has been lifted and my perception has shifted. I don't want to convince anyone who reads this that it was r*** because of emotional language. I want to be factual because I have looked internally and outside myself for months for validation that what really happened to me was r*** - desperately trying to find somone who's story was identical to mine so I could call things what they were and move on. I haven't suceeded - so here is my story for you to judge.
In September 2014 I moved a 7000 miles away from home for work. I knew virtually no one, and had never visited this country before. I had met a friend of a friend, X, a few times at parties over the years and he was living in the same city for work too. We met up and quickly became very close friends.
I made some amazing girl friends in my new home - they would occasionally tease me about X, sayign things like "he's totally in love with you". I dismissed these offhand - I had a boyfriend back home, who I loved, so nothing would ever happen.
He was leaving to go back to the UK in mid-December and, as he hadn't travelled much in the region (which is a travesty in this part of the world) we agreed to go on a trip together - at first we were going to invite others but it ended up being very short-notice, so we went just the two of us. This didn't concern me at all.
We landed on the Friday evening and checked into our hotel, twin beds of course, before heading out for dinner and then drinks. We happened upon the most amazing little rooftop bar and drank ourselves silly off cheap cocktails. Things get a little fuzzy at this point but the next thing I remember he has pushed me onto one of the beds and is kissing me. I push him off saying "No. This isn't going to happen". He stopped, and I got up and went to the other bed.
The next morning I didn't mention what had happened and neither did he - I assumed he had got drunk and overly familiar and it wouldn't happen again. We went about our day sightseeing etc. That evening I resolved to drink less, in part because I wanted to be more in control just in case he tried something again. We went to a skybar and had a bit to drink before I suggested going home. He was reluctant. "It's still early", he said, so we moved on to a nightclub. He was buying the drinks and I accepted them without too much thought. The last thing I remember is him ordering two drinks and beckoning the bartender over saying "there isn't nearly enough gin in this". The bartender grinned and topped them up to brim.
Next thing I know we're back at the hotel room. I'm naked and so is he. He's on top of me and I am violently sobbing. I push him off and run to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I sink onto the floor crying hysterically. I don't know how long I was in there for. When I come out he is crying too - "no girl has ever burst into tears while I was having sex with them". I told him that it was my fault, that I was the one who had cheated. Then we both went to sleep (in our separate beds).
When I woke up the next morning my eyes were swollen and puffy as if I'd been crying for hours. When we talked about it he said that he was sorry and that he really "liked me" - but he was quick to point out that he hadn't "taken advantage". I told him I couldn't remember what had happened and asked him to tell me how it had happened. He said "Why - what are you suggesting?" and I responded "No, nothing - of course nothing".
I told him that I had to tell my boyfriend and he tried to talk me out of it but, at first, I resisted telling him not to bother. When we got the airport to go home he tried again. This time he was saying things like "imagine what people will think of you, no one will think less of me but they will of you" and "what will your friends say". I told him I thought my boyfriend would forgive me but he countered "I wouldn't be so sure, this is really bad. I faltered. After about 15 minutes of persuasion I gave in and agreed not to tell anyone.
We stayed friends, after all I thought he'd done nothing wrong and we were pretending nothing had happened. I cried everyday but I didn't tell my boyfriend - it was easier to lie because I didn't have to look at him as he was back at home.
There were two other incidents - one where he tried it on again, I said no, and he stopped. Another time I fell asleep on his sofa drunk and when I woke up he was touching me. I pushed him away and he left. I still didn't tell anyone anything.
Four months later I was home and I arranged to see him for brunch, after all we were pretending nothing had changed - as I went to shower and get ready I started shaking violently. I didn't want to see him at all. I ran downstairs to tell my boyfriend: "I slept with someone else" I said. He was furious, calling me a liar, deceitful etc. I felt like I deserved it. After several hours he decided he would work on forgiving me - that we could work it out. Later that day he probed for more details - when he did he said "it sounds like you were raped". I felt like I'd been slapped - I'm not stupid, I'm a feminist and I would know if I had been raped. I told several more friends and they concurred. Some of my boyfriends friends were less certain "how could she still be friends with him afterwards?".
I've asked myself that question every day since. Along with how could I be unsure, how could I not know, how could I let other similar things happen to me again, and how could I have kept putting myself in those positions?
He occasionally contacts me now - asking why I don't respond to his messages and why I have blocked him of facebook. Every time his name pops up I feel sick, like I can't breathe. I cry. I have flashbacks to the hotel room and nightmares. I've been shaking while writing this - it feels like ice is running through my veins. How could i have these violent reactions to that if everything that happened was "legitimate". But most of all I don't understand - how can he think he's done nothing wrong, and will I ever be sure that he did?
Please help me.
In September 2014 I moved a 7000 miles away from home for work. I knew virtually no one, and had never visited this country before. I had met a friend of a friend, X, a few times at parties over the years and he was living in the same city for work too. We met up and quickly became very close friends.
I made some amazing girl friends in my new home - they would occasionally tease me about X, sayign things like "he's totally in love with you". I dismissed these offhand - I had a boyfriend back home, who I loved, so nothing would ever happen.
He was leaving to go back to the UK in mid-December and, as he hadn't travelled much in the region (which is a travesty in this part of the world) we agreed to go on a trip together - at first we were going to invite others but it ended up being very short-notice, so we went just the two of us. This didn't concern me at all.
We landed on the Friday evening and checked into our hotel, twin beds of course, before heading out for dinner and then drinks. We happened upon the most amazing little rooftop bar and drank ourselves silly off cheap cocktails. Things get a little fuzzy at this point but the next thing I remember he has pushed me onto one of the beds and is kissing me. I push him off saying "No. This isn't going to happen". He stopped, and I got up and went to the other bed.
The next morning I didn't mention what had happened and neither did he - I assumed he had got drunk and overly familiar and it wouldn't happen again. We went about our day sightseeing etc. That evening I resolved to drink less, in part because I wanted to be more in control just in case he tried something again. We went to a skybar and had a bit to drink before I suggested going home. He was reluctant. "It's still early", he said, so we moved on to a nightclub. He was buying the drinks and I accepted them without too much thought. The last thing I remember is him ordering two drinks and beckoning the bartender over saying "there isn't nearly enough gin in this". The bartender grinned and topped them up to brim.
Next thing I know we're back at the hotel room. I'm naked and so is he. He's on top of me and I am violently sobbing. I push him off and run to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I sink onto the floor crying hysterically. I don't know how long I was in there for. When I come out he is crying too - "no girl has ever burst into tears while I was having sex with them". I told him that it was my fault, that I was the one who had cheated. Then we both went to sleep (in our separate beds).
When I woke up the next morning my eyes were swollen and puffy as if I'd been crying for hours. When we talked about it he said that he was sorry and that he really "liked me" - but he was quick to point out that he hadn't "taken advantage". I told him I couldn't remember what had happened and asked him to tell me how it had happened. He said "Why - what are you suggesting?" and I responded "No, nothing - of course nothing".
I told him that I had to tell my boyfriend and he tried to talk me out of it but, at first, I resisted telling him not to bother. When we got the airport to go home he tried again. This time he was saying things like "imagine what people will think of you, no one will think less of me but they will of you" and "what will your friends say". I told him I thought my boyfriend would forgive me but he countered "I wouldn't be so sure, this is really bad. I faltered. After about 15 minutes of persuasion I gave in and agreed not to tell anyone.
We stayed friends, after all I thought he'd done nothing wrong and we were pretending nothing had happened. I cried everyday but I didn't tell my boyfriend - it was easier to lie because I didn't have to look at him as he was back at home.
There were two other incidents - one where he tried it on again, I said no, and he stopped. Another time I fell asleep on his sofa drunk and when I woke up he was touching me. I pushed him away and he left. I still didn't tell anyone anything.
Four months later I was home and I arranged to see him for brunch, after all we were pretending nothing had changed - as I went to shower and get ready I started shaking violently. I didn't want to see him at all. I ran downstairs to tell my boyfriend: "I slept with someone else" I said. He was furious, calling me a liar, deceitful etc. I felt like I deserved it. After several hours he decided he would work on forgiving me - that we could work it out. Later that day he probed for more details - when he did he said "it sounds like you were raped". I felt like I'd been slapped - I'm not stupid, I'm a feminist and I would know if I had been raped. I told several more friends and they concurred. Some of my boyfriends friends were less certain "how could she still be friends with him afterwards?".
I've asked myself that question every day since. Along with how could I be unsure, how could I not know, how could I let other similar things happen to me again, and how could I have kept putting myself in those positions?
He occasionally contacts me now - asking why I don't respond to his messages and why I have blocked him of facebook. Every time his name pops up I feel sick, like I can't breathe. I cry. I have flashbacks to the hotel room and nightmares. I've been shaking while writing this - it feels like ice is running through my veins. How could i have these violent reactions to that if everything that happened was "legitimate". But most of all I don't understand - how can he think he's done nothing wrong, and will I ever be sure that he did?
Please help me.
