On this day in 1988....

I went on the first date with my first boyfriend. I was a mere 15 years old, and the two of us went to see a dinosaur exhibit at the Sloan Museum... with his mother.

He was a senior, and I was a freshman. We met in mechanical drawing class (that was about 5 years before everything started being done on computers).... but I was an architect at heart -- he liked drawing cars and engines and the like. A class full of boys, he staked his claim early and gave me lots of attention... I was always a bit gawky and uncomfortable in my skin until I realized that boys -- all boys, including my teacher -- had an affinity for a flirty red-head. My mom instantly hated him, because he was "all hands" when we got back from our date. We hadn't even kissed yet, and he had his hands all over my shoulders and waist as we watched television. They hated it but didn't make any ground rules... and I didn't know how to handle it: what girl at the age of 15, knows her voice well enough to use it in saying "STOP IT!"?

It should be amply noted that 1) I would never have listened to my mom, and have hated her if she'd told me that I couldn't see this boy, and 2) Even though things were spinning out of control with my first episode of young "love"... I didn't think I wanted anything else. I'm sure we've been over this here before, but the entire victim culture is that you think that is what you want... think you did something to deserve this... this is what you deserve....

On this day in 1989...
I broke up with him. It was the last time he raped me. As noted above, I thought that the relationship was what I wanted, because I wanted attention. I got good attention as well as and bad attention. I needed a best friend ... and I got a monster that took what he wanted from me without considering that I did not want any part of it.

Think about this:
Any 18 year old man who fondles a 15 year old girl is breaking the law. Certainly lots of young girls date older men. I knew a girl in high school whose boyfriend was like 30. (BTW, EJ, I thought that was utterly disgusting when I was 16). However, it's not just being sexual as a teen that disturbs me... it's that this man sexualized me. I was happy holding hands on the first date --- anyone remember the feeling of electricity leaving your fingertips and entering your first love's fingertips? I craved that. Instead, he wanted me to perform on the level of his last (slut) girlfriend, or even worse, her (big fat slut) sister, who I found out later, he was sleeping with the entire time I dated him. I drew a line he was not to cross (first, not more than kissing).... and he pushed and pressed and got me all flustered and confused and stretched the boundaries until I was doing all of these things I never thought I would do with someone I didn't know that well. The first time he raped me, I think it was sometime around December or January...I know I said no... I remember crying... after that, I just became numb.

Again I ask... at the age of 15, do we know ourselves enough to know that we don't want what is happening to us? It's really sick. I was never sure how I found my voice and told him I didn't want to date him anymore. I tried from early February until this day in March... and it took about 6 months after I broke up with him, before I called it what it was: rape.

Tangent Details...
Even more screwed up, he went into the Navy and would send me gifts and call me and when he was on leave, I would take a temporary vacation from whomever I was currently dating... and get all cuddly and cozy with him. Never again did I let him touch me in a way that was uncomfortable for me... I believe the psychological term I'm looking for is revenge -- I made him want me more than life itself.... and I did all kinds of things to make his desire even more poignant. And then I would get what I wanted and leave. Of course, at the tendre ages of 16, 17 and 18, what I wanted was to make out and make sure that he wanted no one on earth as he wanted me. Then I would crush him by telling him all about my latest boyfriends... what fun we were having... etc.

More about that revenge...
It became a way of life for me. One guy I dated afterward, bore the full wrath (albeit, after he held a rifle to my head and ordered me to his bedroom).. after that I got really messed up and ended up ending a relationship badly, with a really good guy. I told him it was because I wanted someone else. The other day I was driving around and it hit me that it most likely crushed the hell out of him for me to tell him I'd found someone new. I feel bad. I had felt bad about this other guy and I was hurting and raw inside.

Hey... if you were ever my Pellegrino and I was ever your Scherezade...
Know that my heart is sad with the pain I caused you. It wasn't your fault. It was that other bastard who fucked me up. I know it's 12 years late... but Pell... I'm really sorry that it hurt us. Not that I think we would have made a suitable couple today... but I'm sorry all of that hurt us. You actually were my best friend before we started dating, and the day I said goodbye to you, was sad indeed. I've only seen you once in 12 years... I think now it's been about 8. And sometimes (like now), I still get a lump in my throat. Truly, I hope that your life is happy now. I've once-again moved on.... but it'll be different this time. I've changed a lot.