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A Consent Uprising and My Own Sexual Assault

Until one day, it did. The sock model asked me out.

I remember that night vividly. I wore my favorite denim mini skirt, mascara, and my best sparkly lip gloss. He picked me up in his tan F-150.

When we got to his house his Mom wasn’t there. This seemed strange to me, and I knew if my own mother had that information she would have never agreed to the date, but I didn’t care.

I remember him microwaving two hot dogs, wrapped in tortillas, for us to eat, and that he had a beer, and I had water.

I remember his sparse bedroom, navy comforter, and the feeling, at first, of being the luckiest girl in school. I had liked this guy for years, and he was going to kiss me. He might even like me.

It wasn’t long before we were in his bedroom, making out. That part, I liked.

But things moved pretty quickly from there.

I remember him touching my breasts and being mortified that he’d found out what a fraud I was beneath all that padding.

I remember my heart beating, fast, not because I knew what was coming, but because I had never done any of this, and it was all moving too quickly.

I remember feeling naked, cold, and scared when he forced my head down onto his penis and I’ll never forget what he asked me when I tried to pull away: “What’s the matter? Don’t you like me?” The trouble was, I did, so I said, “Yeah, of course I do,” and kept going, reluctant and confused.

By now I knew something was wrong, and I wanted desperately to stop. He squeezed my tiny breasts, hard, and it hurt. I told him so, but he kept going. He climbed on top of me, and I pleaded with him to stop. He said that I would like it, just to relax. I said that I wasn’t ready, that maybe in the future we could, but not tonight, not now.

He entered me anyway.

I remember fighting him some, and pleading once more for it to stop.

I remember the little bumps in his popcorn ceiling, and the profound sadness when I realized this was what my first time was going to be like.

And I also remember when I gave up resisting him. He was already inside of me, it was already too late.