I was 17 years old when I lost my virginity. At the time I was heavily religious and deeply involved in young women's activities in my church. I was dating a man two years older than me, and genuinely felt like I was in love. However, wanting to remain "pure," I was insistent that we abstain from sex until we were married.
As teenagers often do, we were overwhelmed with attraction and lust for one another, and every day that passed made it more and more difficult to keep our pants on. Finally, one day he just broke down and was desperately trying to convince me why we should have sex, why we were the exception to the sexual purity rule since we were going to get married anyway, how great it will be, the whole shebang. I tried resisting, but on the inside I was aching to throw my inhibitions to the wind and just say yes. Finally, after a few minutes of what some may call "pressure," we gave in to temptation and had sex. The sex sucked balls, but that's not entirely unexpected from two virgins.
The relationship ended up falling apart due to him becoming a serial cheater and his manipulative and abusive tendencies (unrelated to sex), and we went our separate ways. A few years later I came across a feminist article on rape that mentioned this little tidbit:
"Sexual assault is more than forcible rape. Any strategy which is designed to eliminate rejection or overcome someone's reluctance or indecision or non-participation or which reduces the other person's options is a strategy of sexual assault."
At the time I identified as a feminist, and this definition shook me. I had been somewhat pressured into sex despite initial refusal, did that mean I had been raped? I didn't feel like I was raped. I didn't feel violated. It just felt like sex. But this is telling me that I was taken advantage of against my will!
I was overwhelmed with shame about what happened to me. I had been raped but I didn't even know it! How horrible is it that such an atrocity had taken place, but my view of sex was so messed up I thought it was normal?! A few people I talked to suggested I bring charges against my "assailant," but I didn't want to draw attention to what happened. I didn't want to be branded a victim, and I didn't want to see the man who had caused me unbelievable heartache even before I knew the truth about his dastardly rapey ways. So I sucked it up and tried to make the best of the situation.
I met another man, outgrew my religious reservations about sex, and we were happily married. A few months after we got married, I came across another feminist definition, saying that any man who has had sex with a drunk woman is a rapist. Wait a minute, I thought, I've had drunk sex with my husband plenty of times, even before we were married. Even though I was completely shitfaced I knew who I was having sex with and I knew that I wanted to. Why was feminism trying to tell me I didn't consent when I damn well knew I did? That's when I looked back on my so-called "rape" when I was "pressured" into consenting against my will, and it clicked.
My ex was a liar, a cheater, abusive, manipulative, and an all-around jerk, but he was not a rapist. I was not a victim of a horrible crime that is the stuff of nightmares for most women (and men, for that matter). I didn't need to feel ashamed about being raped because I wasn't raped. I knew damn well what I wanted, I knew damn well what I was getting myself into, and I said yes of my own free will and volition. It may have been a little rude of him to press me for sex, but he didn't force himself on me. We had made it more than clear in the past that we felt overwhelming sexual desire for each other.
Feminism has gained a lot of political power, and has grown its ranks by making women feel like they are helpless victims, powerless to protect themselves from the wily ways of men. I am so grateful I listened to my gut and didn't press charges. He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve jail time. The day I realized the truth was the day I no longer described myself as a feminist.
