A Face of Rape

This is my story of an act of rape that occurred to me in the early morning hours of January 29, 2016 in an affluent neighborhood of Nashville, TN. I have been unable to write about the details in hopes that the case would make it to trial, which unfortunately, like thousands of others, it did not. But now the muzzle is off of my mouth which rivals the size of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, so look the fuck out.

Please consider this a warning for any trigger it may cause, as well as an uncomfortable but important story to be told.

Mine.

Pre-rape: Captain of Confidence.

Four hundred and eighty days ago, I found myself without a career I had fostered for four years (the stab wounds in my back are still bleeding a year and a half later, which is most definitely a post for another day), a broken immediate family and received word that someone who was like a sister to me died suddenly in a car accident.

This life is living it up above us now.

In between this news and her funeral a few days later, I was raped by my best friend’s boyfriend of five weeks while I sought solace and comfort at her house.  I found myself not wanting to be alone an evening after finding out about my young friend. Always having her door wide open for me, I traipsed over in my mismatched pajamas to hang with my gal pal, her pit bull mix, her four-year old son and her boyfriend. Something I had done 1,197 times before (especially before the boyfriend was in the mix). I knew I was going to stay the night, sleeping on her couch with the pit bull who thinks she’s a lap dog.

Sleeping Beauties.

It was around 9pm when I arrived with a face swollen from bawling, hair looking as if I was hiding rats within it and a need for comfort so large, I would have stood on the side of the street with a sign that read “hug needed”. My bestie ushered me in, told me her adorable son was in bed already but poured me a glass of wine and we sat and talked, laughed, watched a movie and she just let me cry. Sweet pit bull and the boyfriend were also in the 600 square foot vicinity but us two gals carried on as usual, not paying much attention to anything other than the two of us (cause us self-centered bitches gravitate toward one another, ya dig?!).

The boyfriend refilled our wine glasses and after about three hours, we all decided to hit the hay. I took a sleeping pill, set my glasses and phone on the coffee table across the room and went to bed on the couch while watching my bestie and her boyfriend go into her bedroom together as I settled in on the couch I knew so well.

I mean, if this isn’t sex on a stick…

A few hours later, in darkness so deep it rivaled a haunted house, I groggily awoke on my back to something very heavy on my chest, with my arms down by my sides. Initially, getting my bearings and remembering where I was, I immediately thought it was the sweet pit bull who always slept on my chest with her ass to my face. But as the seconds ticked on, I realized there was a human head in the crease of the right side of my neck heavily breathing. It was my best friend’s boyfriend having sex with me. NON-CONSENSUAL SEX WITH ME.

In what felt like 10 minutes (but was more likely .000000004 seconds), I silently freaked out, put my hands up on his chest and hissed, “what the fuck are you doing?” Without uttering one word, he retreated from my body, stood up and walked back into the bedroom where his girlfriend was sleeping (sounds like someone who has a bit of experience in this, yes?) – into the fucking door that had been wide open the entire time.

Since this traumatic event, I’ve learned that you either fly, fight or freeze. I was frozen solid to the couch with my pink polka dot pants at my knees and all other parts of my pajamas in tact. Scared shitless at what could happen during a confrontation with a man I barely knew, my first thought was of the sleeping four-year old in the next room. While I wanted to get up and beat the living shit out of The Rapist, I couldn’t remove myself from that couch. Being blind as a motherfucking bat, my glasses and phone were across the room. I didn’t know if he was awake, passed out or going to come back out to finish “the job”.

So I laid there until it was light, which must have been at least two hours. At sunrise, I busted my ass across the room, grabbed my spectacles, phone and bounced the fuck out now trying to piece together what the fuck happened and how in the fuck I was going to tell my best friend. I wanted to do it while she was away from The Rapist and her kid was out of the house, so I texted her to call me when she got to work.

I also called two close friends who wanted to know why in the hell I was calling them before 7am (when I typically sleep until noon) for advice. I love a crime show – especially Forensic Files Friday night on the HLN network and knew not to shower or wash my clothes (which are still in my living room, waiting for the Nashville police to collect them). But did this really just happen? What do I do?

I know I’m a hot mess…but really?

The reality set in when my bestie called from work, I told her to sit down as I had something life changing to tell her that would have an impact on the both of us. Then I went on to say that I had awoke in the night with her boyfriend of five weeks – now known as The Rapist, having sex with me. Her initial response was, “did you finish?” Did we finish? HOLY FUCK.

This was my first encounter with victim blaming.

My friend and I hung up while she took time to process the information I had provided. Minutes later she called me back to tell me that The Rapist was sitting right beside her and she’s “not hearing the same story I’m telling.” Oh, no fuck.

  • I wouldn’t sleep with an ex-girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend – let alone my best friend’s current love interest. Girl code bitch.
  • Why is it OK if we did have consensual sex (which we did NOT). Kick that motherfucker out and cease being my pal.
  • WHY WOULD I LIE? We’ve been best friends for years. You’ve known this man for 50,400 minutes.

I believe the call ended with me tearfully trying to shout “fuck off” and two seconds later I receive this text from The Rapist:

Hmm…”wish I’d have told him no.” I WAS FUCKING DEAD ASLEEP. After taking a sleeping pill with three glasses of wine (which mind you, he poured) and being unbearably sad the entire day with endless tears coming from my eye holes, I was out cold. He had sex with what was basically a corpse instead of turning to his girlfriend he was next to in bed and tapping her on the shoulder for a piece of ass. He got up out of the bed and came to the couch. He knew exactly what he was doing. Oh and a side note, as soon as I was conscious enough I did say no. I said fuck no as I pushed him off.

Shattered into emotional fragments from shock, awe, disbelief and utter dumbfoundedness, I called my sister who immediately turned into a rescue responder. She called my dad, told me to call my doctor and told me to give zero fucks about a friend who didn’t believe what I was telling her.

A real face of rape.

My dad left work and arrived at my mini manse while I was still in my rape pajamas. We were like Tweedle Dee and Dumb, as neither one of us knew what to do. I had called both my gynecologist’s office and general practitioner. In lieu of knowing not to take a shower or wash my clothes, I had no clue where to go. Roll up into a walk-in clinic and casually ask to have a rape kit performed? The fuck? I finally got through to my gyno’s office and they told me to go to an emergency room.

We chose to go to the ER where both of my doctor’s practice. I was admitted, the police were called, and my blood was drawn only to be told after three hours that rape kits were only performed at one hospital in Metro Nashville. I encountered SIX medical professionals and was admitted to the hospital before being informed of this practice.

That’s cool. The worst day of my life needed to be drawn out three more hours by fucking professionals not knowing the ropes. Seriously a fucking shit show.

Of course, like a fucking comedy shit show, my dad couldn’t find his car in the massive hospital parking lot we’d started in, his battery on his key fob was dead and so the responding officer ended up taking me in the back of his patrol car (you can’t sit up front, ever) to the hospital that conducts all Nashville rape kits. So many firsts for one day – losing a best friend, being raped by her boyfriend of 35 days, sitting in the back of a cop car and getting a rape kit performed.

This cop car ride was waaaaaaay more fun – and only a few months prior to my rape.

With a dead phone, hoping my dad was finding his way to the correct hospital, and stripping down into a paper gown, the responding officer left me in the very competent hospital staff hands. When the Davidson County Metro Sex Crimes Detective arrived, I gave her my recorded statement to which my second encounter of victim blaming occurred when she said, “so you didn’t scream?” Oh no, I’m sorry I was too busy being in shock by a foreign object inserted into what the current President of the United States refers to as a pussy (that you can grab if you’re a star!), concerned that a four-year old would wake up and walk into an incident that would scar him for life.

While I sat and had pubic hairs plucked for my rape kit, The Rapist was very busy on social media, posting this photo on his Instagram account:

Please pay special attention to the fucking relaxing hashtag.

A rape counselor arrived. My rape kit was conducted. My dad waited six hours in a hospital waiting room with Barbie, the heavenly rape counselor. And when it was all over, she came in to the room with me and said, “there is going to be a before rape in your life and an after rape in your life.”

And she sure the fuck was right.

In minutes, The Rapist stole my joy and innocence of loving life.

Well, what innocence I had left.

In mere seconds, The Rapist stole my trust in almost everyone.

Seriously. Leave me the fuck alone.

The Rapist made me feel like I was responsible – ashamed, embarrassed and disgusted with myself. Insecurities I still fight to this day in the form of adjustment disorder, PTSD, chronic fatigue and severe stress.

How did I left his happen to me?

 In an instant, The Rapist turned me into a girl who could no longer withstand being in my own mind. I gave up my beloved yoga, my running, my reading, my TV watching…and cried in my closet.

At least it’s pretty in here.

The Rapist stole my pride. My confidence. My will. All in one act.

Cries for confidence I never knew I could lose.

My will to live never left me but I must admit most nights I wished I wouldn’t wake up in the next morning. What helped me take moment by moment and live to fight this ass hat of a rapist were my two little loves in Iowa. I would lay in bed and watch videos of them all day long.

Life savers one and two.

I also had fur babies and reason to put one foot in front of the other (even if it was just to feed their ungrateful asses).

Life savers three through seven.

The thing is, it takes a fucking village to overcome any type of trauma – and my village is as strong as an army. In instances such as the one I survived, it’s an experience I can hopefully convey to others and create awareness. Over 70% of all rapes occur between acquaintances. I never once thought I was putting myself in danger by going to my ex-best friend’s house (again, a story for another day) to grieve a loss of life.

Instead of gaining comfort, I became a statistic that is all too familiar. My treatment as a rape victim by the Nashville Davidson Metro Sex Crimes division is and was no less than abhorrent. I was re-victimized by the very people supposed to help, support and guide me (again, a story for another day). Also, the cost of being a rape victim has a tremendous impact for those who do – and don’t report it to authorities. Missed work, therapy visits, police follow-up, doctor visits, prescriptions (thank GOD I have health care), etc… is at an estimated $152,000 per victim according to a 2008 National Alliance to to End Sexual Violence report.

With all of this being said, I immediately went on defense mode with the help of my closest allies – and folks who have become my closest allies (and also dropped folks who I thought would be my closest allies – again, a post for another day). I dubbed my rape as “Rapegate” in order to having to avoid saying “that thing that happened to me…” Now we all just refer to it as Rapegate, as will I on this blog from here on out. It felt funny trying to post about fluffy matters of nail painting and weekend shenanigans the way I did before with something so heavy hanging over me that I couldn’t talk about outright.

I’m currently in survival mode, with the next step being thriving mode and I owe it to my support systems of thousands. You guys rock my world. Truly. You are my lifesavers eight through one million.

My new suit of armour compliments of college pals and happily married hotties HJ and CC.

With your help throughout this past year and a half, I’ve become one hell of a survivor through your letters, texts, phone calls, cards, gifts, flowers, financial assistance, sharing of your own stories – I know I’m not alone. You’re not alone. We’re not alone.

Aftermath face of rape – a Nasty Woman and proud of it.

So here we go, CBXB readers and supporters! I’m taking you on my Rapegate journey that won’t be hashed out in every post but when I do, humor will be tucked in here and there – like how to become a beached whale while eating your emotions. Or how to shit your car while talking to your pharmacist at the drive-thru because being raped has given you a severely nervous stomach. There’s nothing funny about rape. But finding a reason to laugh has been my saving grace.

And so have you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Now let’s get to thriving!

CBXB

CBXB!

63 thoughts on “A Face of Rape

  1. Joey locher says:

    I’m so sorry that happen to you. God has a plan for you. Stay strong. God bless

  2. Ken DeVries says:

    CBXB – I know whatever I write will be wholly inadequate. I have never met you, except via your blog. I’m the Purdue fan that had the privilege of sharing some Captain with you (via a package mailed to Dalt’s).

    I wish so much that night never happened. I wish that there was a way that the bastard could be appropriately punished. I hope and pray that pre-rapgate CBXB returns.

    You have no idea how much you have been a blessing to me. Please keep kickin’ ass for everyone cheering you on and love you always.

    • KEN! You have NO idea how much that fucking bottle of Captain you sent to Dalts meant to me! My dad and I conquered it! And I still have the note and talk about that package being sent to me almost every time I am in my beloved Dalts. PLEASE know that I have lived off of your kindness and appreciated you taking the time out of your life to cheer me up.

      My big, fat mouth will hopefully help in me returning to my pre-CBXB ways, as feeling muzzled was really hard.

      It’s people like you who make the world a better place – and again, the significance of your kind package…meant THE WORLD. Now I know who to raze when the Hawks play Purdue. And also, I promise to cheer for Purdue when the Hawks are not playing them.

      Much love to you my friend! XOXO

  3. John says:

    This was a difficult read. I’m so sorry that this has happened to you. That creep is evil. I hope karma catches up with this evil man very soon. All I can offer you is a seriously huge virtual hug and pray that your soul will heal and restore soon my friend, God bless you richly. ❤️

    • John, isn’t it funny how we ‘know’ each other after years of blogging and Instagram pics?! I feel the same about you! This evil son of a bitch is going to get what is coming to him one day…I mean, I do have my army behind me. 🙂 Thank you for being such a fabulous supporter and great friend. XOXO

      • John says:

        I’m lucky to know you! I hope the bastard meets a shitty end. Behaviour like this from any man enrages me, and I’m deadly serious. I have my own idea for punishment, not fit for print. I’m so glad you have an army behind you. Be strong, be well! ❤️

      • You and I share in our ‘not fit for print’ idea of punishment, I’m sure. Thanks for being a part of my sparkly army! XOXO

      • John says:

        You betcha! XO

  4. You fucking rock! I’m so looking forward to having a drink and giving you a huge hug some day. The Rapist looks like a real ass clown. If I’m ever in Nashville and you know where he is, maybe we can arrange an encounter….Hmmmm. Stay strong, sister! I’m always here if you need a semi-neutral pal to scream at.

    • Well, The Rapist is a REAL ass clown. And we won’t just have one drink – let’s be real. You’ll have a 12 pack of BLL, I willl force you to drink a Skinny Pirate and then the shenanigans will be ON! You have been such a great friend and supporter and I love you. You’re the shit. Thanks for being you. XOXO

  5. I am so sorry that this happened to you but as ever you will remain firmly in my mind as the Nashville Warrior. You are a brave survivor my friend and you have strength you never thought possible. Many of us use humour to get through our darkest times but you are and continue to be an inspiration; keep the faith

    • This Nashville Warrior is DETERMINED to come and visit you, so we can enjoy cocktails on your poorly constructed…deck, is it?! Humour remains my backbone. My strength comes from friends like you. Until we meet for real…cheers! XOXO

  6. Powerful story. Keep surviving and keep living.

  7. NTB says:

    Keep fighting to regain whatever confidence you can. You will never be the person you were, but you are still the funny bad ass you have always been, with some new (unwanted) perspective on life and a new fire in your belly. You have a village you don’t even know about. Stay strong. Keep smiling, crying, breathing. Keep being real. I am so very impressed by your strength. Your honesty is beautiful. As are you.

    • Thank you so much for the kind words! It’s been hard to feel bad ass – although you’re right, there’s a fire in my belly that now feels kinda like a bonfire. With my massive village of supporters such as yourself, I feel stronger every day. And, also a bit sassier. 🙂

  8. Gary Lum says:

    I don’t want to hit that like button yet I do because it indicates you’ve done an amazing thing in being able to share in detail your horrible story of betrayal and being violated. Keep going CBXB. I’ve been following you for years and will always follow and read. Take care and keeping thriving and growing *hugs* XO

    • Thank you Gary! It feels like I ‘know’ you through WordPress and Insta posts. Funny, isn’t it? I appreciate your words of encouragement and hope to help with awareness in any way that I can. Oh, and keep those delicious recipes coming! XO

  9. Wes (from JHS) says:

    Wow! I’m speechless Megan. Can’t understand how hard that was. Glad you’re on the up and starting to heal.

    • Hey Wes! Thanks for the support. It’s been so hard – and even harder to remain quiet while my case was open. Sharing my story has been quite cathartic and hope it can help in my healing process. Go Dragons!

  10. I am absolutely shattered for you. I can’t think of anything worse for a woman than having something like this occur and then to be treated like you have done something wrong…But I also believe in Karma – given time the perpetrator will pay, in the meantime you take good care of yourself, Baz

    • Thank you Baz. I believe in karma as well…and it always tends to come around. Please enjoy a sip of Bundaberg for me tonight in your enjoyment of retirement (if I remember reading that a while back?!). XOXO

  11. Amy Billingsley(Trump's) says:

    You are so amazing for picking yourself up and putting this story out there. I love you.

  12. I’m always rooting for you! You’re stronger than you realize. You’ve got so many standing beside you to keep you strong. One day at a time, one step at a time. I totally believe in you and I am here for you! ❤️
    And Ted looks quite annoyed in his pic.

    • Oh how I’ve loved our ‘friendship’ over the years. I have been offline a little longer than I would have liked – literally and mentally. Thank you so much for your words and your support. You know we’re always here for you too. And Ted always looks like an asshole…I think he created resting bitch face! XO

  13. Kara Elbaz says:

    Wow!! Thank you for sharing and being so forthcoming with the details of what happened. I lost my virginity shortly after my 19th birthday to date rape on a foreign country. I had been dating a guy from France, that I met while living on a Kibbutz in Israel. His English was horrible and our common language was Hebrew, and body language. We were both orthodox at the time, and after he forced himself inside me, not only did my body language change drastically but so did my commitment to my religion. Since then, I’ve had 3 children gotten married and divorced, been to therapy, was victim shamed in a foreign country, in a language I was still learning to speak, read, and comprehend. I’ve spent years trying to regain my innocence. I’ve been in relationships, and my biggest turn off is sex talk or sexting. I want a man that truly appreciates me for me before appreciating my body. I want our friendship, love and bond to matter more than the sex. That’s my turn on. I’m almost 40, and trust me, I have my fair share of hormones and desires, but I have to know that Im truly appreciated first. From one victim to another, I’ve got your back, and will drink a shot or two or a couple of bushwackers with you and lend an ear or a shoulder any time I can for you. You can do it!! With the support you have, even with this not going to trial, he will get his due punishment one day. Karma will get him, and hopefully it will get him by some drastic way in his penis, in the form of an STD that can’t be cured or erectile dysfunction at an early age and the embarrassment of not being able to perform, and above all, loneliness.

    • Hey Kara – thank you for sharing your story. I’ve explained rape like pregnancy…so many women (and in rape cases, men) have gone through the physical process, yet no two are ever the same. To me, it’s an absolute shock that victim shaming is something accepted worldwide – and further proof from your story. I’m so sorry that something so special was taken from you, along with everything else that compiles after being raped. I think moving forward in any relationship – friendship is always the best way to begin anything. I, too, believe in karma and know that it proves itself to come around. I just hope I’m there to see it – or at least hear about it! I’m all in for shots, bushwackers and girl time all around. Thanks for reminding me that I’m not alone. And you aren’t either. Much love to you girl. XOXOXO

  14. Pauline Landry says:

    So many are rape survivors. Me included. If you ever want/need to talk let me know ❤️

  15. KittNoir says:

    You are beyond brave. Wish I hug you & sit through the bad times with you. Keep going you inspirational courageous warrior. Proud of you 👩‍❤️‍👩

  16. Kady says:

    I just wanted to tell you thank you for sharing your story! You are one hell of a strong, brave, immensely intelligent, couragous, driven woman and your story is inspiring! Knowing your not alone is a very important key in moving forward with your life and being able to heal from the trauma that has happened to you!!! Your amazing in many different ways and I wish nothing but the best of the best for yourself.

  17. JMC813 says:

    Pretty F-ing courageous of you to tell your story here CBXB. I admire the hell out of you for your strength and ability to keep some semblance of your sense of humor intact. Keep fighting tooth and nail and keep your support crew close. Smile til it hurts and keep shining on you crazy diamond.

  18. Hard to click LIKE up there, but I did anyway. You are my hero. You ARE not just a survivor, but you will THRIVE, and I vote for a quick visit from KARMA to prove justice might not happen in the legal system, but the universe has her own way to deal with scum of the earth. I love you.

  19. PS Can I repost on my Medium blog since I’ve taken my own blog offline cos of you know?

  20. Mitzi M Bonnell says:

    You are an unfuckwithable bad ass bitch and I hope he gets pulled over for running a stop sign, they find out he has a warrant where he is then taken to jail, strip searched with sharp, pointy things and then immediately gang raped by a couple of guys named “nuck-nuck” and “big-dick Bobby”. I LOVE AND MISS YOUR FACE!!!! I’m always here for a vent session and I am PROFOUNDLY sorry that this happened to you. All my love….. Mitzi

  21. Hi Megan,

    I’m not going to start this note off by expressing that I hope that you’re well. You must not be and for good fucking reason.

    I’ve been reading your blog for years now. For some reason, amidst the avalanche of email I have to sort through and respond to on a day-to-day basis I still stop and read about you, your cats, your nails, your seasonal decorations, your niece and nephew, and enjoy the pictures of you and your Dad binge drinking. “Invaluable treasures” is still my favorite hash-tag.

    Anyway, I read your recent post and was incredibly saddened and horrified. I am so, so sorry that you’ve had to endure such a horrible, horrific, senseless act of violence. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through. For what it’s worth, thank you for telling your story. I was really moved by how candid you were by not only revisiting the entire account, but sharing about the complete BULLSHIT that you’ve been forced to deal with in the wake of what should have never happened to ANYBODY. There is NO excuse for victim-shaming and exposing how terrible the health care system is in this country is important. You’re not alone.

    You said that “it takes a fucking village to overcome any type of trauma – and my village is as strong as an army”. Just wanted to say that you’re completely right and that you have soldiers all over the goddamn place, ME being one of them. If there is anything I can do…( i.e.: share or amplify your story, become a backer in some sort of kickstarter to ruin that piece of shit’s life, or how bout I write a scathing song about him and post it all over the internet? OOH, can I?!!)…please don’t hesitate to reach out. Or if you’re ever in NorCal, you have a room in the home I share with my girlfriend where you’re always welcome. There’s lots of wine out here. I know people. 🙂

    In the meantime, I’ll continue to read your blog (and read your clothes and cups, which always seem to say something) and cheer you on from a far as you continue to rebuild your life. Karma is more than a bitch. It’s a cunt. (Too much?!) And it WILL grab him by his man-gina and you WILL rise from the ashes like a jello-shot-gulping pink phoenix, most likely wearing some sort of loud jungle-animal print.

    That’s all. I don’t really know what else to say, except I’m sorry.

    Sincerely, your old friend and CBXB soldier,

    Bergey

    >

  22. […] know how to help a gal when she’s down and out! The overflowing abundance of support from my Rapegate post restored any questionable faith in humanity I may have had prior to posting. Not only was writing […]

  23. curvyroads says:

    So brave to share your story, and you are right, rape victims are treated so horribly, it’s amazing anyone ever reports a rape. That has to change, and each story helps. Here’s to thriving starting real soon for you!

  24. Megan, I am so very sorry this happened to you. My heart breaks for you and what you’ve had to endure. Thank you for having the courage to share your story. I admire your honesty about it all, your voice and your willingness to speak up about it, and your determination to thrive. Sending hugs and prayers.

  25. Ursula says:

    You are amazing brave to share this story and your journey…may you find peace and happy that you deserve!

    Ursula

    http://www.blueridgebeautyblogger.com

  26. […] I heard the grand jury decided to drop my Rapegate case against The Rapist due to lack of evidence, I was bummed – maybe more numb – to say the […]

  27. OddSocks says:

    Thank you for sharing your story. I hope that it’s ok to share my UK petition here with you. I am in the midst of writing my story from 2014.

    https://www.change.org/p/jeremy-corbyn-mp-encourage-the-media-to-adjust-their-terminology-regarding-rape-and-sexual-assault

  28. […] Rapegate therapy has been pretty intense. To the point where afterward, instead of crying my eyes out […]

  29. […] I lost emotional, mental and financial stability I thought I’d created for myself. And then, I was raped. So this cat (and I want to punch people in the throat who say “it’s just a […]

  30. […] video. There’s a long, fabulous story behind this experience I will share later (regarding Rapegate) but I did what any normal person does when they have their two seconds of […]

  31. […] now been 616 days since the saga of Rapegate began. At first it was all-consuming, eating me up – a worm in my brain, invading every moment of […]

  32. […] my Halloween decor out of Camo’s attic was an exciting feat. Getting my giddy up back after Rapegate, I’m trying to stay on the right track by doing what I would “normally” do, which […]

  33. […] My takeaway from my horrible work experience(s), the career ruiner (what if I told? what would it do to my career in the music industry? would I be judged?), my anger (I still carry) is this –  it elevated me and gave me the gusto to tell when I was raped a month later. […]

  34. […] A dad who tells you to “tough it up” when you’re sitting in the superintendent’s office, holding a bloody chin after being hit in the face with a baseball bat during PE but remains strong and silent decades later when he’s driving you to the hospital after being raped. […]

  35. […] added to the growing list of sexual harassers, it triggers me in a way due to my residual PTSD from Rapegate…and my own experiences with sexual advances in the […]

  36. […] of the perks of Rapegate is I’ve gained a superhero named Sheila that I see every Thursday. As a matter of fact, […]

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