No Means No.

I’m still here. Still defining myself. Still with nightmares. Still wondering if I’m broken. Or am I picking up the pieces and repairing them? Repairing them accurately? Or just putting them back together?

Some people sing the same old song and don’t realize what year it is. Others go on to new music and pretend the classics don’t exist. What feels right isn’t always right. Sometimes, what feels odd is just growth. And that’s where the scary part comes in.

It’s not just children that feel fear. Adults feel it, too. Only their fear manifests itself in different ways. Humans show fear in different forms. Anger, pompous attitudes, shyness, elitist attitudes…know any of these types?

I know I’ve grown. Grown immeasurably. I can feel it. I can see it in my eyes. But, most importantly, I can hear it in my voice when I say no. When I say no to ideas and to acts that others think are appropriate. When others tell me I am at fault for something I know I didn’t do, when I am blamed or accused for a situation that someone else has manipulated, I will not walk away. I will stand for myself and calmly explain what has happened. I will also always tell the truth, I always have.

The experiences I have endured in my life could have been major obstacles to experiencing future pleasures and truly enjoying what life has to offer. Having a narcissistic mother, the psychopath and his mother were indeed traumatic events. There were others, and at times, I wondered, and I honestly still do, why I’m that chosen one. I just keep getting stronger and stronger.

Recently, I visited a friend who I’d known for about five years. He’d visited me in my new home when I’d moved and I’d shown him my new town. We had a great time as friends, hiking, visiting the local shops, etc., and we’d always kept in touch. I’d decided to go visit him many months later and also, visit a few other friends up in my old area where I used to live.

On the second day of the visit, this friend had other plans for me, apparently. He decided he was going to rape me. My reaction? I began to fight him and asked him, “What the f*ck are you doing?” angrily. He persisted, telling me, he deserved it, which only made me angrier. Now, we are only friends, there was no hidden agenda on my part and he knew how I felt. I kept fighting him, telling him absolutely not, no means no.

At this part, I will tell you he had been drinking.  That should not excuse him at all. He knew what he was doing. When he realized that I would not give in to his demands, he then told me to leave his home. It was 3 a.m. and he told me to leave. I had a one and a half-hour drive home and had not slept yet.

I took my things, packed my car and left as quickly as I could. By then it was 3:30 a.m. I was exhausted from battling him and no sleep. I knew I had a long drive ahead and was not looking forward to it.

The next morning he texted me. He threatened me. I ignored his text and didn’t respond. That’s why I say he knew what he was doing. If he knew enough to text me the next day, he certainly remembered what he did the previous evening.

The second day, he texted me again. I ignored his text again. He never texted again.

What did this experience do to me? I felt let down about people. Knowing someone for five years, thinking I knew someone for five years and having them turn on me in this way made me wonder if you ever really know anyone. Who can you trust?

What I did learn is that I can trust myself. I fought this man and said no. He probably thought I would give in, but I didn’t. He probably thought because it was the middle of the night, I wouldn’t leave. I didn’t care what time it was, I didn’t want to spend another minute around a person that is that soul-less.  I spent about two weeks dealing with what happened. He turned into garbage that should rot in hell but that’s not my call. I’m sure he will get his in the end.

I mentioned fear and how it rears its ugly head in different forms. This man has prostate cancer but refuses to take the appropriate medication for his condition. Why? Because he told me that he wouldn’t be able to function as a male could if he did take the meds his doctor wanted him to have. I told him he was shortening his life if he didn’t take them. He said that his virility was more important. I told him that was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. That was a conversation we’d had over a year ago. I suppose his fear of not being a real man became juxtaposed into an attempted rape that night. I feel sorry for him. He’s not a real man anymore.  Maybe he never was.  And his prostate cancer has nothing to do with it.

Update: The Soul-Less Sexual Predator dared to text me recently. I did not respond. This is what he said. “Hey. Let’s be adults and start communicating again. It’s in the past already and I have no hard feelings and I miss talking with you. I think we can still have good times together. I know you were upset. Oh well, lmk one way or the other.”

Really? I told you he had no soul. He also has no brain cells. Let’s break it down.

I’m the adult, you’re not. No, I don’t want to communicate with an as*hole. It’s in your past because your mind doesn’t realize attacking a woman is a violent crime punishable by law. There’s something seriously f*cked up here.

I wonder how many other women he’s attacked. He has no hard feelings? For what? Apparently you don’t realize what you did. Recidivism rates vary and I won’t discuss them here because of the immense variables.

I can tell you that after talking with close friends about this ordeal, another woman admitted to me that 5 years ago he had sexually stalk-texted her after she had met him. I wish she had shared that information but she was so disgusted but it/him she hadn’t wanted to talk about it. A prime reason why the recidivism rate for sexual offenders can vary so greatly. Women don’t always talk.

I certainly don’t miss this unfortunate excuse for a human being. More than upset, I was disappointed in him and disgusted. I was angry at his behavior. I’ll never speak to him again.

If ever called to court, I’d be happy to speak at him, there’s a difference. Women need to be protected from this type of predator, the sheep in wolve’s clothing.

Peace.

Sorceress.

All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License.

 

 

Advertisements