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Anonymous Story: When I was 9

When I was 9, I had a cousin who spiked my Fanta and raped me. It took me some years to understand what he did to my drink but I knew for sure I was raped.

My parents didn’t believe me and felt I had disgraced them and become rotten. My aunty blew it out of proportion and made it all worse. My parents saw me as the black sheep. That was when my PTSD began. I almost became a lesbian, I hated men so much and became a tomboy. Eventually, after giving my life to God I began to heal and let go not knowing what was coming for me. My first boyfriend set me up and lied against my cousin to tear me and my cousin apart. Made me feel like she hated me, and a lot of other manipulative things which made me not heed her warning the day of my rape.

They said I should come over so we could settle all our quarrels. I mean, I felt safe knowing my boyfriend was there and of course, I was young and foolish. My cousin refused to come and asked me not to go. However, I thought it a harmless thing so I went and I called my boyfriend, he said he was there. Got there and he wasn’t. Saw his cousin and asked him where my boyfriend is, and he said he was Inside. I went to his room and it was empty. By the time I was out, the door was locked and the key wasn’t there. That was when I knew I was finished. I began to tactically search for it and he kept coming closer. He was stronger than me with a muscular build so I was terrified and kept begging God to save me. I guess he tried to save me earlier through my cousin but the wedge they drove between us made me lose that help.

He had carefully arranged the house and removed everything I could harm him with. I knew I was finished. It was upstairs with rod windows so there was no escape route. I began to weep as he came closer. I tried to fight him. When I had no strength anymore I began to beg. I begged and wept but it didn’t even move him. He raped me both ways. I will never ever forget it. A part of me that believed in humanity died that day and the pain still awakens my sleep. Before he even raped me, he beat me and hit my head on the wall just so that he could weaken me. To think I swore I’d never do anal, but my first anal was through rape.

Worst day of my entire existence. It affected my last relationship. I still feel worthless sometimes. I’m still so insecure most times. It’s worse because I’m big and I know a lot of men dont like big women so most times if a man tells me that he loves me, I still feel it is a lie. Also because even after my rape, I found out that some of the men who approached me just want to sleep with me and dump me, yet they lied that they love me. Makes it hard for me to believe what any man says.

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