I was a victim of rape, though I’m sure it wouldn’t stand in a court room because I never actually said “no.” It was how I lost my virginity, I was his toy for five months. After those five months were up and he went back to where he came from (he was only living here for a limited time for work) I was so lost and broken that I didn’t know how to feel or what to do with myself that I found myself lusting NOT for sex but rather for someone wanting me in that manner. I hated sex, it scared me, and I was uncomfortable with it. But I was willing to put myself through it for the attention I craved and needed. I wanted to be loved. But each time I did it, I felt worse, and worthless, just like a piece of trash, unloveable. I believed and was treated by myself and men that I was only worth my body.
If you watch this video and listen to his example about woman and their mistreatment you might have a better understanding of how I may have felt. He worded it much better than I could.

I’ve been having “guy problems” my whole life, since I was 8, anyway.
I was 8 when a guy made his way to my own bedroom and sexually assaulted me, and shortly after a man attempted kidnapping me. I didn’t realize at the time that it corrupted me.
Once I became a teenager I found myself lusting for attention from boys, even if I wasn’t interested in them, I found myself pushing myself to come out of my comfort zone of hiding my body and started to show off what I had. I started dating when I was 14, and didn’t really enjoy it in the least. I was forced to “hook up” with guys and never even tried to say no as much as I wanted to..
In the beginning of summer in 2009 I lost my virginity, and I didn’t even want to. I feared saying no, I didn’t want to be beat or hurt. So I went with it, for almost five months I had sex with a guy I didn’t trust, love or felt comfortable around.
Then I was trapped, I found myself dating someone I didn’t really care for and basically found myself back in the same situation, only he was nicer, and I actually believed it was love.
In May of 2010 I attempted suicide by overdosing with pills. I was sick of the abuse, misuse, and worthlessness of my life. And oh, how I hate myself.
Obviously, I survived, and I wanted to stop being “that girl” so in the summer I was going to work on myself and find a guy who loved Jesus and respected me, but instead, I found myself violated by men at each Christian music festival I went to that summer. Not only that, at my hometown, I had three guys trying to contact me and all for bad intentions.
I’ve had two guys tell me recently they’ve had sexually dreams about me.
I’ve got guys left and right trying to be with me, but they really only want one thing, it’s clear.
I have never felt so unsafe than I have all my life.
This mistreatment that I have endured all my life from men, Christian and non-christian alike, has corrupted my mind and my actions. I have been lead to believe I am nothing but a sexual object. But I don’t WANT to believe it. But I’ve been proven wrong time and time again.

I don’t WANT to end my life, but at times I feel like I have no choice.
I’m so disappointed in myself, I crave attention almost all the time, I can’t stand the sight of myself, I make harsh jokes, sometimes actually meaning what I say, all because I’m starting to lack compassion or feeling because that’s how I try to portray myself most of the time- hard, and tough. And a lot of the time, I’d rather just be alone, and the only time I’m with people, is when I look beautiful in my own eyes.
I think about what would happen if I were to die, would people go out of their way to be at my funeral? What would it be like? Would people be hurt ?
I honestly don’t know, I don’t have a clue. I don’t see people going out of their way to help me now, why should they if I were dead?
I swear, I’m not trying to be selfish, it’s just that I don’t see me ever living up to the expectations I have for me, and what others might even see in me.
If I weren’t so damaged, I could do great things, I know I could. But I can’t, and I don’t see me ever getting passed this. Sometimes, I’m even a little scared of being happy, truly happy, because the last time I was happy, I was 8. I’m scared to break down the walls surrounding me, because I’m use to this feeling, but it’s getting worse, and instead of breaking down the walls- they’re going to break me.

It’s hard to tell people how I feel, because I feel like they think I’m seeking attention, mostly because that’s what I’ve been told.
And I don’t want to be let down, that I’ll regret opening up to someone.
And I want help, but at the same time, I don’t.
I don’t want to be thought of as selfish, I can’t control how I think or how I feel. It just happens, and I can’t stop it.