**********************TRIGGER WARNING***********************
IF TALKING ABOUT RAPE IS A SENSITIVE TOPIC FOR YOU, PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION
With the reversal of Roe v Wade many people are arguing that abortion needs to be easily assessable to women in the event of an unwanted pregnancy that is a product of rape. These arguments have got me thinking of past experiences that I thought I had tucked away in a corner of my mind, hidden from my consciousness, forgotten. See, 3 of my children from my first marriage are the product of marital rape. I really don’t like to use that word, it makes me feel like a victim and I am no victim. I have fought and clawed my way out of adversity to where I am today. I have decided to tell my story, however, not to garner sympathy, but in the hopes that it might help someone who is in the same situation I was in.
I also realize not everyone will or has had the same experience as me. I am not saying what I did is the correct way to handle the situation, and what I did might not be right for everyone.
I married my first husband at the young age of 17. I graduated high school in May of 1991 and was married in July the same year. It was an awful relationship from the beginning, but for some reason I stupidly thought it would get better. He constantly lied to me, belittled me, and gaslit the shit out of me. When we were dating, I had achieved my life long dream to attend Loyola University in Chicago. I was accepted into their biology program and was going to minor in Latin. They even had a school in Rome I could transfer to so I could fully immerse myself in ancient roman culture. It was all I ever wanted. I had taken 3 years of accelerated Latin classes and was in love with ancient Rome. I was so excited when I received my acceptance letter and called him immediately. He was completely unemotional and belittled me by saying that I will never be able to make it there and that if I do go, he would never talk to me again. Whenever I brought it up, he would just get silent and say, “remember what I told you”. I ended up not going and marrying him instead.
I found out I was pregnant with our first child in 1992. When I told him, he just looked at me and told me to get an abortion and walked away. I called my mom crying. She told me she would support me any way she could. So, after a few days of enduring his anger and lack of excitement, I felt guilty for wanting to keep my baby and I made an appointment at the closest abortion center 200 miles away. My mom drove me there early in the morning, while my husband stayed in bed sleeping. I cried the entire trip. I just remember rubbing my stomach, repeating over and over, “I love you.” When we got to the clinic, all I remember was crying to the doctor that I don’t want to do this, I wanted my baby, but my husband is making me have an abortion. After hearing this, they refused to perform the procedure. I was so happy I wasn’t able to go through with it, but my stomach was in knots the entire trip home. I dreaded telling him.
Our daughter was born 12 weeks early in January 1993 and spent 56 days in the Neo Natal Intensive Care Unit. Life was rough after she came home, I was the only one taking care of her. I was tired all the time and was really bad at taking my birth control. Plus I hated the way it made me feel, but he refused to take any responsibility for birth control. And in 1994 I found out I was pregnant again. He surprisingly took the news well and I thought things were ok, until they weren’t.
He always wanted to have sex, normally it wasn’t a problem for me, but since being pregnant and taking care of a one year old, I was completely uninterested in sex. I was tired and nauseous 24 hours a day and got absolutely no help from him.
One night, he was trying to initiate sex. I just kept telling him that I didn’t want to. I tried to pretend like I was sleeping, but he just kept trying. Touching me, kissing me even though I was completely unresponsive. He climbed on top of me and I clenched my legs together as hard as I could but he just over powered me. He spread my legs apart with his legs, penetrated me, and had his way with me, while I just laid there completely unemotional and unfeeling. He finished, rolled off me, and went to sleep.
I was in shock. I wasn’t sure what just happened actually happened. All I know is that I felt so violated, so unsafe, so dirty, so disgusting I just rolled on my side and cried myself to sleep. And that would end up being my sex life for the next 8 years. He would do whatever he wanted to me and I just laid there, feeling dead inside, wanting to kill him. I would never kiss him, couldn’t look him in the eye, even though he insisted on it. One night he forced me to give him a blow job and it was literally all I could do to stop myself from biting his dick off….
We ended up having 6 children total, 3 were a product of rape. Many will ask, why would you keep those children? Why would you want to be reminded of those events? I understand that marital rape is different from rape by a complete stranger, but the actual event in and of itself is still traumatic. When I was married to my second husband I would have panic attacks during sex and sometimes would have to push him off of me because it felt like I was being raped all over again even though I very much wanted to have sex. The trauma is still there and still very real.
My point in all of this is that my children saved me. Having my children gave me a purpose to live. I had a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to keep going. Because of them, I had something positive to focus on and not the shit hole that was my life. They gave me the reason to continuously try to better myself and finally leave my first husband. If I didn’t have them, who knows what would have happened to me. They are the reason I am who I am today.
When I look at my children I am not remined of the horrific nights I laid in bed while I was being violated by the man who was supposed to take care of me. I look at my children and see joy, love, amazing memories and most of all hope. I see hope for a better future, hope that everything will turn out ok and that despite the circumstances of their conception, they are the light of my world. They are the reason I survived.
Marital Rape
Wow. You got through all of that and then emerged as this amazingly resilient and strong person. Raising six kids. Finding hope in your six kids. I could never accomplish that, not in a thousand years. Your story is the kind of thing I will reflect upon when I'm going through a personal struggle.
That's an amazing story. What's even more amazing is the way that you still have our backs as men. I literally hope you get everything out of life you deserve.