Sex: How He Warped My Beliefs... (Sensitive Material)

It is no surprise that a rape victim may experience some type of effect on her sex life. If she is not able to separate her trauma from her sexuality, she can go in either of two directions:

1.  Doesn't want anything to do with sex. The thought of being intimate is repulsive at best. Triggers tied in with sex are too powerful, so why bother?
2. Sex is no big deal, in fact, it is desired constantly.  The mentality behind this usually stems from self-blame. I let it get taken from me, so why not just give it away? Sometimes there is an effort to prove that one is good enough for anyone but her abuser.

These directions aren't definite though. A victim can jump between them at any given moment while striving to discover who she is post trauma. I am one who experienced both sides of the spectrum.

Sitting through Sex Education classes in late elementary school was a nightmare. While the other girls were trying not to giggle at the words "vagina" and "penis," I was hanging my head in shame, for I was already familiar with what was being taught. When the instructors arrived at the sensitive topic of sexual abuse, informing us of what it is and what to do, I would start to nervously twitch and think, A little late for me...but thanks....

As the adolescents around me grew into their bodies and the irrational fear of "cooties" disappeared, they made themselves more presentable to the opposite sex; I was praying no one could see I was already broken.

My first real relationship, when I was a freshman in high school, ended because I was getting impatient.   I always believed that the only way to prove love was through sex, so I was confused when he didn't "make the move." I didn't believe him when he told me he loved me, because all I heard was HIS voice saying, "No one will ever love you like I do..."

I did have another serious relationship starting when I was 16. He was my "true" first, and while that relationship provided a sense of stability, by the end of it, I was unraveling for the first time in my adulthood. Unfortunately, instead of recognizing my internal battle between sex and love, I just accepted that I was a vessel for men to have their way with.

Proving that I was good enough for any other guy but HIM became my mission. Alcohol almost always played a role in my reckless sexual endeavors, because it helped me feel less guilty. Yet, I would still wake up with the shame of my past. It would be so overwhelming that I would belittle myself, then indulge in self-harm for punishment.

I had little care as to what would happen to me when I was going through these phases. I tell Greg now that when I was in that state, it was as if I was a completely different person. I would float away from my body and let it do whatever it wanted to do, because I didn't love myself enough for it to matter.

Since seeing HIS face, sex has become the elephant in the room. Before Greg truly understood what I was going through, there was a pent up frustration from my repeated refusal of physical contact. I would feel awful, because I still held that belief that sex means love, and if I didn't give it, I didn't love him. So I would give in only to break down from a flashback.

After starting the journey through this memoir, my husband and I have grown closer, and with the help of added boundaries, he has proven to me that intimacy is capable of existing without the pressure of sex.