A few Fridays back, I was on my way to work really early in the morning I got into a bus that I normally wouldn’t enter because it was almost full and also because it was filled with men. Another female entered the bus and in an instant the conductor shut the door and the two men at my sides started to pull at me and forcefully snatched my bag from me. I was desperately hoping that I’d wake up from this really bad dream but sadly I didn’t, I was being robbed. I was horrified, in the greatest shock of my life. All 7 men in the bus were in on it, 5 men, the driver and the conductor. Everything was taken from me and that was relatively okay until one of them tried to undress me and shit went downhill from there.
I ended up still going to work but the office manager sent me home where I cried for hours, I was exhausted and dehydrated and felt lower than a pile of shit. First thing I did was scrub myself, I scrubbed so hard in an attempt to wash off the horrible experience of 5 random men fondling my breasts. I didn’t have to tell The Lover to come over; he came to the house to take care of me. After an hour of just laying on the couch in his arms, I wanted to have sex. So we did, it was slow and affectionate, it was just what I needed. He didn’t really understand why but I explained afterwards and we went at it again and since he understood where I was coming from it was better the second time around.
I got robbed and molested, so why did I want to have sex? For me, this is how it is, being molested by f*ckin bastards made me feel dirty, I didn’t have a choice, I was hurt, beaten and bruised, I had to succumb to the filthy touch of these men who exerted some form of power over me. I wanted to have sweet slow sex because it would be on my own turf, because I needed something to cancel the violation I had endured. I wanted someone to touch me where I wanted to be touched, because I wanted to be touched, not having to be forcefully touched my sons of bitches. I wanted the great feeling of actually being with someone who I wanted to feel against my bare skin to cancel out SOMEHOW the horrid events from earlier on in the day. I did feel better but I still feel dirty and I still cry about it, way too often since the incident.
The irritating thing about this incident is that it was not the first time a man would coerce/force me into engaging in sexual activities. A few years back I was raped by a man who I considered to be like a father to me and that was the day I knew that I was broken beyond repair. He knew I didn’t want it but he simply didn’t care, I couldn’t fight it because I’d seen his temper and I knew better, sometimes its best not to fight your assailant, so I laid there as he stuck his hands down my panties. When he was done, he brushed my hair and sent me on my way and till this day, acts like nothing happened. I thought about reporting him times without number but I know that sex is about power and him being a powerful man, he will bury me and bury my family. I really wanted to tell someone but I couldn’t because in this god-forsaken world we live in, my family would be dragged into it and I love my grandfather way too much for him to have to go through the ordeal it would cause.
After this scenario, the dynamics of sex became gravely different for me. I was having sex because I need(ed) so badly to counteract that very act that I didn’t even want to be involved in. I had sex only because I allowed a certain person touch me, not because I didn’t have a choice and was afraid of being ruined even more.
Hi, my name is S and sex for me gives me a voice; I don’t even know if that’s how I’m supposed to describe it. It’s more like… “I’m having sex because I actually want to be touched by this person, not; this scum is touching me despite my obvious opposition to it”. Sex for me is important because it’s me actually engaging in the act because I want to, because I’m allowing the other person touch me and ultimately because I’m willingly. Sex is a beautiful thing, but being touched sexually by someone you disapprove of, someone who doesn’t care that they are violating you is one of the worst feelings in the world and it stays with you forever.
As I said about sex earlier, it’s about power a lot of the time and when I have sex with someone I want to, I don’t feel powerless like I did on those two incidents in my life. I feel powerful knowing that I’m allowing the other party to touch me, I feel powerful knowing that if I say stop, the other party will listen to me and do as I say.
Sex has become more important to me than I ever thought it would. Sex has become for me, an avenue of strength, sex has become for me, a way to help me slowly erase the two most horrific incidents of the last three years. Am I broken? Is this a way for me to rationalize or suppress these bad events in my life? Will I get to a point something will snap? I’ve considered all these questions and their answers and truth is, I don’t know but what I know is, right not this works for me – it may not work for everyone but I thought to share today. Please comment with your thoughts below.