I am a 45-year old single woman who has counseled other rape victims, so I have no problem being open and frank about my three experiences. I will offer the cursory scenarios to get the basic questions out of the way.
A little background
I developed very early. My first day of walking into the gym class in seventh grade and I was mistaken for the teacher because I already had a chest. The physical development caused a rash of problems in the form of sexual abuse, molestations, and multiple rapes. My breasts were so large by the age of 12 that boys who believed I was stuffing with balloons would trap me in corners and stick pins in them to see if they would pop. I would walk home from school and have men drive by and try to pull me into their cars. Living near a military base, soldiers on the beach (in public), would take turns holding me down and trying to rip my bathing suit off.
I got to a point where I hated the beach and wouldn’t go, sequestering myself alone in my room with my books and art. My mother would rant that any 15-year old girl would love to live at the beach and I was ungrateful for not appreciating what they had given me. I told my parents about some of the first molestations, a local doctor who continually exposed himself to me (masturbating in his bedroom window, which directly faced my bedroom window) when I was home alone and tried to molest me, but the solutions were to walk home a different way, go to a different part of the beach, and close the shutters of my window.
Rape #1; age 16**
One day, walking home from school, I was raped for the first time. I was about 16. He and I were walking down the street – he, of Hispanic descent, in his military-insignia jacket about 30 feet in front of me – turned around suddenly when we were near an open garage. He grabbed me and pulled me, struggling, into the garage. Petrified and shaking with fear, with one hand he clamped his hand over my mouth to keep me from crying out and with his other hand – with both of us standing – lifted my skirt, and did his deed. In retrospect, the entire act may have only taken five minutes. Much of that actual time lapsed is blurry in my memory. When he was finished, he zipped up his pants and ran down an alley. A local neighbor witnessed his departure and me trembling and crying, with my stockings bunched around my ankles, and helped me home. The perpetrator was captured by the police and ultimately let go due to contradictory identification. While I distinctly recalled the military jacket he was wearing, I thought the jacket ended at his waist and the eye-witness thought the jacket was longer, below his buttocks. That discrepancy let him go free.
Rape #2; Statutory, age 17.
In my adolescent brain, I rationalized that I was more adult and mature than my peers when I began an affair with a teacher. It is commonplace now (I am sad to say), but in the early 1980s, it was quite scandalous and unheard of. My parents found out and the teacher and I ended the relationship amicably and quietly. But he bragged about the conquering (to the principal and vice-principal) and as rumors spread, so did the travesty. He was arrested for statutory rape and proceeded to give multiple television and newspaper interviews that he was being targeted by a “deranged and deluded” student who fantasized the whole thing.
My name was never mentioned in print but of course everyone knew who it was. I lived the Clinton/Lewinski macrocosm in a microcosmic environment. Everyone believed the teacher because he was so well-loved and respected. There were death threats against me and my tires were slashed. Ultimately, the school board voted to just give me my diploma months earlier than school ended; I was not to set foot on campus, not attend graduation or prom or anything. Most of the “friends” I had developed washed their hands of me, believing the teacher’s claims that he was the target of an attack. And my mother did as well; she took to the bottle, claiming it was another lie I was telling (just like the rape) to get attention. The teacher eventually lost his job, pleading no-contest to the rape charge, and paid a $1,000 fine. The principal and vice-principal lost their jobs too; for not protecting a minor. I didn’t know about that until much later.
Rape #3; age 29 - a gang-rape
Working the Renaissance Faire circuit at that point in my life, camping near the site was common practice for participants. Also common practice was rampant drinking, drumming circles, and debauchery. I am sure I was drinking and flirting, however I know I was not consenting to the attentions of two younger men (as I was involved in a relationship) who followed me when I left a rather raucous Scotch-tasting circle of thirty-or so people. My boyfriend-at-the-time was at my side when I said my goodnights; he wanting to stay up a while longer and me, desirous of sleep. It was dark and the two guys left shortly after I did, following me and dragging me into their tent which was very near a large drumming circle. Because of the drums and crowd noises, no one could hear me as I cried out for help. I was slightly intoxicated, but far from drunk however because of the lateness of the evening and terrain, when I reported the incident, I was unable to identify my perpetrators or the location of their tent (evidence led investigators to believe the guys moved their tent shortly after letting me go, so it was impossible to identify who they were).
I’ll leave it at that. Ask away.