You know I have been, as my close friends calls it, sexually assaulted a few times already, and I am only 21. I lived in a not so good area for my teenage years. I am pretty much over those encounters except for one on them, the last one. That last encounter really just made me wonder…what is wrong with men?

At the time of my last assault, my family was living with a couple in a one bedroom apartment. This couple wasn’t the best influence.
The people in the apartment building were not of the best character, some shady people. I hated it there so much. The men in the area were such perverts, the ones in the building were just as bad.

I was cautious of this guy from the first day I met him. He was iffy, and a drug dealer. He was very dirty. I didn’t trust him at all. But the thing is, we would talk sometimes, be friendly. I mean we were neighbors. This is a guy that a couple tried selling me to on a few occasions. I would never go with him. I was wary of him; I knew what he wanted. He was always hitting on me and shit, never would leave me alone. He didn’t care that I was underage, either. He was always asking if I would have sex with him. I was still a virgin, but why would I choose to lose my v-card to him? Eww no.

The day after my 18th birthday, he and I were talking in the hallways of the apartment building. Some people kept coming out and complaining about us talking too loud. So we went inside his apartment; I didn’t think any harm would come of it. Once we got inside, he pushed me against the wall and put his hand over my mouth. He then started to undo my pants, he kept trying to take off my shirt. He told me that we were going to fuck, that he was going to take my virginity from me. I tried telling him to stop but I couldn’t talk with his hand over my mouth. He got my shirt off and had my bra half off with his mouth on my boob, sucking on it.

The door knob started to jiggle. It was a key trying to unlock the door. He let me go and gave me my shirt back, because his roommates were back home. His roommates had no idea what was going on in there. I ran out of there as fast as I could back to my apartment. I know if his roommates didn’t come home that he probably would have raped me. I was scared. I didn’t want to leave the apartment for a while. I didn’t want to go anywhere near him. I wanted him gone.

A couple weeks after that, their apartment got raided. It looks like the police were keeping tabs on him and his roommates. Some of them were arrested including him. They all made bail, but him. No one would help him out. The only reason they would not help, was one of them found out that he was a sex offender. They said he would have never been living there if they knew he was one. I really wish they would have looked into him further before letting him live with them. He wasn’t allowed back there.

I never told anyone what happened to me for quite awhile. Still, no one knows exactly what happened in that apartment that day, until now I guess. I was scared too, I know my father and brother would have killed him. Literally, would have killed him over that shit. I didn’t want them to go to jail over my mistake of going inside his apartment to talk. I am still scared to tell people about it, in a way. I mean, now my brother does know. He wishes I would have told him when it happened. He said, “That nigga would been dead.” I still will not tell my father or mother.

Why do some men think they have the right to take it from a female? Why do some men think it’s ok to rape a female? Why? What gives them that right? Why does this same thing, or worse, happen to so many females every day? I mean, yes it happens to males too, but this article is geared toward females. What is so wrong with men that they feel the need to rape or sexually assault females?

For a long time I blamed myself; I guess in ways I still do. I always think, what if, what if I didn’t go in that apartment that day, what if I didn’t do this and that. But I can’t change the past. As much as I wish I could, I know its impossible, yet I still wish. I wish I didn’t always blame myself, though I am slowly getting over it at my own pace. Writing in my journal helps me a lot. It lets me get everything out without opening up to people.

I am thankful everyday that he did not rape me that day. I am thankful that the other times I was sexually assaulted I wasn’t raped, though one of the times I was forced to suck a guy’s dick. I am thankful I wasn’t full out raped. I am thankful nothing worse happened to me. I am thankful to those roommates who got home at the time they did, even if they had no idea what was happening. I say they saved me from being raped. I am so thankful for that.

I pray everyday that will be the last assault I will ever have to deal with. I never want to go through that again. It was scary, and it hurts deep down inside. Makes you want to cry, a lot, though you know you shouldn’t. It makes me sad and want to cry just writing this article. The flashbacks kill me, though I know it could have been worse. I know females have gone through way worse than I, yet still it has fucked with me in ways some people will never understand. I pray everyday that I will be able to fully heal emotionally from this assault, as well as the others. I also pray that this man, along with the other men who have assaulted me over the years, NEVER assault any other female.

Recently it seems as though people my age are all in relationships. I always wonder why. Why are people choosing to settle down so fast? Live life! We are still young! Geesh!

A few things about some females especially, irk me quite a bit. First of all, those females that are “in love” with every male they have been with. The ones who meet the guy and within, what, three days they “love” that guy? That is where I call Bullshit! How can you love someone after only three days? You hardly know the person! I mean there are these females I have known over the years, where every damn man they are with, within a week they think they are in love. WTH is up with that? How can you be “in love” with so many men? You can’t, can you? I know most of those men don’t feel the same for those females. So why are the females so set on it? Are they looking to get hurt? I mean, I know there are people who say you have one true love out there, and the rest are just bumps on the way to finding the Mr. Right. I just don’t know.

Another thing that sort of irks me, are those people who depend on relationships. The ones who can’t stay single for more than a week or so without getting all sad and in depressed moods! I mean seriously, get a grip on yourself woman! I mean, why do some women become so dependent on relationships? Why do some women think they NEED to be in one or they are nothing? I hate seeing that, I really do. When I know a female who does this, has a break up and then is with another guy within a week, I think “How pathetic.” One friend in particular does this quite often. She has been this way for as long as I have known her. She is in a relationship, they break up, and within a week a new guy. After the break up she’s sad and everything,  but she also thinks she is useless without a man.

Put both of those kinds of women together, and I get really annoyed. I mean, I also know the kind of women who says they love the man they are with after three days, and when the relationship ends they go to a new guy a week later. How the hell does that make any sense? Here’s a conversation I have once had. “I thought you were in love with that guy?”

She said, “Oh I was.”

“Then how come you moved on two days later to a new man?”

She was like, “Well he’s cute and I love him so much.”

I literally wanted to slap her! LOL! I mean you ARE NOT in love, you are in LUST, silly girl!

Watching females just plain out amuses me, simple as that. Our interactions with men are amusing, silly, and sometimes pathetic. We do not need men in the least, well unless you want a baby. Other than that, hey we got toys. Men are such fucktards, then again so are women.

Once upon a time I was different. I was once not such a fucked up person. I was once sort of nice, to be quite honest. Then shit happened and I changed.

I became that female that women hate, I became the female that does things with your man. I am the female who sleeps with your men and I could care less. I have been the “Other female” since I lost my virginity. I lost my virginity because I didn’t want to be a virgin any longer. It was either give my virginity to a guy or have it taken from me unwillingly. I chose to lose my virginity to a guy I will call “Carson”. I chose him just to piss off his ex. I knew he had a girl, but then again, I also knew he was fucking about five other females besides myself. Did I care? No, not at all. Carson and I ended our thing soon afterwards because his girl started texting me. I gave him one simple rule, and that was DO NOT let any females text me.

I stopped having sex for, hmmmm, a few months. Then I met “Carrie”, now that is one female I wish I’d NEVER met. She was the type of female that could talk you into doing shit. But more or less, we were always drinking and fucking guys, or high on pills. The guys she ended up setting me up with were always taken men. Did I know they were taken from the get go? Yes, I did. Did I care? Nope. I figured, if it wasn’t me it would be some other female, so why not. I was even fucking Carrie’s man, which, by the way, he had other females as well. She didn’t realize that, but I always knew. He and I were friends, not just fuck buddies. I had sex with many taken men in that area.

But soon though, I moved away from that area to a new area. I met new men, a new breed of men it seemed. They were, hmmm, more family men, I guess, in that new area. Also I experienced my first sober sex after I moved. I was living at a hotel with my family, guys stayed all the time with work. Some of the guys would be there for months at a time, only going home on the weekends. I did have sex with a couple of them. One guy in particular I remember, when he was 31 and I was 20 at the time. He was married with two little babies. We would fuck when I got off work at night. Oh he was good for sure. I soon ended it with him, I got a bit bored and found a new guy at work. This guy was nice to me, but horrible at sex. He played me dirty, but that’s something different.

Soon after quitting that job, I found a new one. There was a guy working there, he was taken, of course. He kept talking to me at work and shit. I always flirted back with him, though I wouldn’t do anything with him. I got his phone number. I quit working there due to health problems. I told him I couldn’t do anything with him while he was still with his girl. So, a week or so later he told me it was over between them, and I believed him. I should have never believed him. This was my first relationship ever, FYI. To make a long story short, he played me dirty. I soon found out he was with four other females besides myself. I felt like shit. He said a lot of shit to me during our relationship and afterwards. I felt like a whore afterwards. I started using pills again pretty badly. I started “sexting” again. I just felt like complete shit.

One guy, a friend who I know is married, I have to constantly turn down. A married man with two baby girls. I mean what is wrong with him?! It actually disgusts me how he acts. I mean seriously go pay attention to your WIFE!!!

I now wonder if that how those females, on the other end of what I did, felt like? Were they upset and shit? Did they feel like whores? Did I make them feel like complete shit? Why did I do that to other females? I think about this quite often. I make up excuses all the time. My biggest excuse is it made me feel better about myself. I mean, shit, someone wanted me! Never in my life have I felt as wanted, even if just for sex. I was happy for once. I was always told I wouldn’t be good enough for any type of relationship, and I believed it. Why did I believe it so willingly? I have not a clue to be honest. To this day I still haven’t figured it out.

I always gave men the three strike rule in the past. Its like one, two, three, your out of my life. Like it was ok the first time the sex wasn’t so good, fine. The second time I am getting annoyed, and by the third time your outski’s. The end, bye bye. I mean, either bad sex or you say/do something fucked up to me.

But more recently I have become so annoyed with that shit. I am so sick of having sex with taken men. I want a single, nice man to like me for once. It has gotten to the point that I have been turning down men and just using toys. I never turn down men. It’s weird. I guess I just realized that maybe before I wasn’t respecting myself. Because if I was, I wouldn’t be sleeping with married or taken men. I think I am going to start respecting myself from now on, I am only going to go for single men, and stay away from the taken ones, at all cost. I still don’t think I will be having sex for awhile. I think I will continue with the toys. I do not want to be used by men, and I don’t want to use men any longer, either. If I decide to try out the whole relationship deal again, I don’t wanna feel like shit from being cheated on. So why would I want other females to feels like shit from my actions? I don’t.

You know, back in school I used to be that awkward girl, the one who wasn’t sure about herself. I was loud and obnoxious, but I had super low self-esteem. Though I didn’t let anyone catch on to it. I kept everything hidden and bottled up. I didn’t respond when the more popular girls threatened my life or teased me. I tried ignoring it. But inside I was dying. I wouldn’t cry in front of other people, I would wait till I got home alone.

It started getting pretty bad, to the point I was doing morphine like it was nobody’s business at 14. I was taking up to six to seven 60mg of morphine at once, a few times a day, trying to make the pain go away. I even tried cutting myself, that didn’t work out to well. I wasn’t a fan of cutting, though after cutting a few marks in my arm I did cut the word DIE into my upper arm. Then the morphine wasn’t helping me, so I thought, ‘fuck this, I need someone else to be down like I am.’ So I started giving and selling people morphine; giving people, who I thought were my friends, six to seven morphine pills at a time to take. I was hardly ever in class in high school. I was always suspended, in and out of school, for various things.

I was so down all the time. I just did not want to be alive at all. I was so sick of every girl saying I was ugly and everything. It seemed all the girls at my schools were more advanced then I was. They had the boobs, they were having sex. But no guy ever looked at me, except as Stephanie. I wanted to be looked at for more than that. So, one day at school I took about nine 60mg morphine. I think? I don’t quite remember. I remember how sick I was. I was throwing up like crazy. I got sent home by the nurse that day, and I was out of school for about a week and a half, sick as a dog. Partly because I kept taking more, thinking it would make me feel better. It didn’t. I cried a lot during that week and a half, just thinking how stupid I was.

Not long after that I dropped out of school. I couldn’t stand the constant bullying and threats. I was so sick of it. I was done. I realized after that incident that I didn’t need morphine to get by. Soon after my brother and I dropped out, we moved away from that area. I was so happy, so very happy. I was finally on the right track, I was off morphine and becoming a bit happier. I still took pills here and there, but never as bad. I did smoke weed sometimes, with my brother. That lasted for about two years, until we moved in with this couple.

Now this couple, they were not the best people. There were six of us living in a one bedroom apartment. Soon it would be even more, but that’s not important. Now, I was a 17 year old girl, still with some low self esteem issues. But by this time I had grown into my body more. I had boobs finally, lol. Well the female, I will call her Amy (not real name), said a lot of shit to me, to the point my self esteem was basically non-existent. She was always telling me how I wasn’t good enough for men and yada yada. I started getting depressed again. Amy and her boyfriend were crack heads as well. She was always trying to talk me into doing bad things like drugs, shoplifting, and so on. She even tried selling me to her crack dealers. She was always telling me guys would only want me for sex. I felt like shit.

The New Years right before I turned 18, my father started drinking again. That’s never good, lets just say. That night I tried to commit suicide. I took about eight sleeping pills, which didn’t work. I got so sick throwing up, the drilling in my head wouldn’t stop. I was crying, but Amy helped me hide it from my parents that night. The next morning though, she told me she put more sleeping pills in the bathroom for me to try to kill myself again.

My parents never knew anything about my problems throughout the years. They are, what you can call, pretty clueless parents. Soon after leaving Amy’s I lost my virginity to a guy for a very stupid reason. I mean I don’t regret losing it, it’s more the reasoning behind it. I have had sex with many guys since then. A lot of drunken sex or high sex. I still don’t think I will ever be good enough to be in a relationship. I think that’s why I have only been in one short lived relationship where the guy cheated. But the thing is, I am not as depressed anymore. I have figured, all the low lives who put me down before and made me feel like shit, aren’t anything. I can do so much better for myself. I look back, and now that I think about it, the only thing I regret in life is letting other people decide for me that I was nothing. I now realize it doesn’t matter what other people think of you, it matters what you think of yourself. Why did I let those girls be like that? Why did I let it get to me to the point I dropped out? Yes, I do have a GED now, but I missed out on a lot. Why let others make your life hell? I control my life, not them! I just hope that I can continue to believe this, and get over my past and move on. At the moment, I really am trying to find a job. I am thinking of going to school. But most of all, I am trying to stay away from certain kinds of people, crack heads in particular, seeing as I have a tendency to friend them. I want to be a happy, normalish person. I am moving on finally, after about six or so years.