Covering my ears: La La La...

I wanted to believe there was a silver lining to everything when I was younger. There was a lesson to be learned with each life experience. And for my entire adult life, I have convinced myself that getting date-raped when I was 17, (and a virgin), somehow saved me from a life of being controlled, manipulated, and dominated by a man. It protected me from losing myself. I was a strong girl. I was a tough girl. I was a righteous girl. And I would never let that happen to me again. I've even written about this, thinking maybe I could have talked to other young girls and protected them from getting into the situation I was in, and having it... happen to them... Because even when I wrote the last post about it, I still thought I could somehow prevent something like that, and you know what? That's not true. I couldn't. I couldn't stop it. And my "mistake" or "flaw" was that I trust people. And we should be able to trust people. We can teach boys and men to treat women like human beings... but are we, girls, always at the mercy of a stronger force, if they want something from us that we don't want to give?

You see, all through high school, I could always stop any boy from going too far, because I wanted to wait until I was really ready, which meant I would be deeply in love, which meant I would be married. That’s how my brain worked. 
Guys didn't try to cross a line that was clearly written in ink, not chalk.  I mean, Although I was a sexual person, I thought that was sex was for after marriage.  I dated others, after AJ.  I even thought I felt love a few more times. My boyfriends were satisfied enough.  And they respected my boundaries and my choices.  

...Sometimes choices are taken from you, and sometimes ink washes away. I was still 17, the February before my 18th birthday, when my then boyfriend, Ryan Johnston (yes, I used his real name), was kissing me in the backseat of his car.  We had been sledding, and he had found us a bottle of Southern Comfort, which he said I should drink to keep me warm.  I was giggly and buzzed, and the adrenaline from tubing down a steep hill, and crashing at the bottom, with him, next to me, kissing me in the snow…  I lost my head…  He said he wanted to see my whole body at the same time: naked.  He had touched me almost all over, his hands all over my body.  They were rough.  They were always rough.  I’d never allowed myself to be so vulnerable to anyone… I never did.

I remember nervously pulling my dress over my head, and him sliding my leggings off me.  I remember him unhooking my bra, and then him kissing me too hard, and pushing against me too hard.  I didn't want him to take off my panties, and I didn't let him.  He said he just wanted to see me naked because I had a “model perfect, beautiful body” and I shouldn't be shy.  It was winter, and we were in a darkened back seat.  The moon was out because I could see his face.  I could see my breasts and my flat stomach, and my thighs as he pulled them down…

The car was running, the heat was on, and the song Glycerine was playing on the radio.  I could see my naked body, my knees bent, feet on the seat, even though my head and neck were uncomfortably pushed against the car door.  It was easy for him to wedge his muscular thigh between my legs, and push them open No. please no. And he could pull my body towards his, so my head was flat and all I could see was the ceiling of the car.  His hands held down my arms when I started trying to find his penis and keep it away from me.  I grabbed it and said, “Let me sit up, I’ll lick you instead, stop." Please.  I don’t want to do this. Instead, he wrapped his hand over my fingers so I couldn't let go of him and directed himself inside me, pushing hard.  “No, no,” I said over and over.  “Look, you just did it to me.  You put me inside you.  You want it.”  No, no.  

He was a wrestler and in no way compatible with me.  He pursued me, and I wonder if for some reason I needed the crude attention he offered… I’ll never know, really, why I fell into all of it.  I remember his father used to yell like crazy, in anger, at his youngest sister, in 2nd grade at the time, and she and I became very close.  I wanted to protect her.  His father was also the chief of police in our town.  He was an asshole.  They both were assholes. I didn't like him as a person. I didn't want to be in that backseat...

...And I said, “Stop, please, stop.  It hurts.”  I said it nine times, he told me after he was done.  I was crying and he told me to put on my clothes and get in the front seat.  “If you had said it 10 times, I was going to stop.”

He told me he knew once I “got it over with,” I would like it.  “I was trying to help you.  I knew you wanted it."  I looked out the window as he drove me home and I tried not to fall apart.  I told him it was okay.  I said, “It’s okay.  I’m okay.”  Was that the first time I uttered that lie? 
I didn't tell anyone, not for a while.  I just changed, I wasn't myself, and no one knew why.  I wasn't so self-assured and outspoken.  I flinched when people hugged me.  I flinch now... That started again... The flinching... The pulling away... The sinking into myself. What kind of man loves like that?

So I didn't wait until I was married.  Sex didn't mean much to me, though.  And I only did it with one other boyfriend after Ryan, because my mom said it might help me feel less bad, or realize sex wasn't something that was just... bad.  I did understand it could feel good…  almost… there was potential there, that I wished I could know.  I never thought I would, and I stopped thinking about it.  

AJ and I kept coming back together at times, in the same innocent way we always did. Kisses and formals at his college. But we realized we had both grown up, and we had changed, and life had changed us, and we would never be the same.  That’s not always a bad feeling, to know and to stop.  We would always be friends.  We would always be friends.

In the scope of my life, now, it was not long after dating a best friend, that I married a best friend.  It was the February before I turned 23 when he asked me out. There were a lot of things that should have occurred to me that didn't-feel-so-good-about it all, but then again it felt just-right in every other way.  We decided we would marry each other, a decision made with great certainty and silliness, within a few months of dating.  And everything was handed to us to make it easy to keep moving forward.  My grandparents' friend, an older gentleman with no children, gave Sam the engagement ring which had been his mothers', which meant so much to me because I'm a sentimental girl. Gosh, I loved my grandparents more than the world.  They were the golden center of my universe.  They were my safety, and their house my safe place.  All was clean and good and right when you were with my nanny and grampy.  They really liked--and quickly came to love--Sam.  I loved them so much.  

         And aren't I safe from physical violence and evil?  Did I learn that lesson?  Have I been protected from being manipulated, and losing myself, because of the silver-lining of losing my virginity against my will?  No. No!  I let others dictate my happiness.  I trust.  I don't think I learned a damn thing from my experience in high school.
       I've found myself, even as a married woman, in too many situations that brought back all the memories of being 17: having my body ripped, and my mind is torn apart.  I am reminded that I'm weak, and susceptible, still...  And I'll never know if it's because I was raped when I was a kid, or if it's because I was the kind of girl who would get raped at 17.  I am the kind of woman who will possibly be emotionally raped over, and over, and over, again, until I completely break apart, not to be put back together again.
       'Cause I just cover my ears and "Lalalalalala" and pretend.  I'm so good at that.  You love me, you love me, you love me, you love me, la, la la...  And what does sex mean anyway?  Nothin'.

La La La

Hush, don't speak 
When you spit your venom, keep it shut I hate it.
When you hiss and preach,
about your new Messiah 'cause your theories catch fire.

I can't find your silver lining
I don't mean to judge
but when you read you speech, it's tiring.
I'm covering my ears like a kid

When your words mean nothing, I go la la la

I'm turning off the volume when you speak

'Cause if my heart can't stop it, I found a way to block it, 

I go La la la la la la la la la la la la la la

I found a way to block it, 

I go La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la

Yes our love is running out of time, I won't count the hours, rather be a coward
When our words collide
I'm gonna drown you out before I lose my mind

I can't find your silver lining
I don't mean to judge
But when you read your speech, it's tiring
Enough is enough



I'm covering my ears like a kid
When your words mean nothing, I go la la la
I'm turning off the volume when you speak
Cause if my heart can't stop it, I found a way to block it

I'm covering my ears like a kid

When your words mean nothing, I go la la la

I'm turning off the volume when you speak

Cause if my heart can't stop it, I found a way to block it

I go La la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la. I found a way to block it, 
I go, la la la la la la la la la la la la la la La la la la la la la la la la la la la la laaaaa...
La la la la I found a way to block it, I go, la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
I found a way to block it, I go...