Pregnancy scares, rape, birth control, fear, control, and the persistent state of misery that I don'

[sorcyress]

I consider myself a rape victim¹. However, there was never PiV intercourse between me and my rapist. Some days this means I shy from the word and use sexual assault instead. Some days I don't. (Some days I go into more detail, about how I was once non-consensually anally penetrated by his fingers and I'm pretty sure that counts regardless). Regardless of the words used, it's important to note that his pattern of sexual abuse went on for several months, getting worse with time. My rape was not once-and-done, not the parts that still hurt anyways.

Let me step back. It's early 2007. kSatyr and I have been kissing sometimes. On Valentines day, I was at his house and he gave me presents and felt my breasts. We started dating at the end of February, 2007. There's a reason I never forget to call Miss Marsha for her birthday.

Throughout the spring, there were more and more instances of sexual activity between us. Manual stimulation in both directions, oral stimulation in both directions. Certainly instances where he rubbed his penis against my vulva. (Separately, certainly instances where I lay, back to him, and he got himself off by rubbing hard against my ass. He did not notice me crying while he did.) By June or so, there had definitely been a couple cases where his precum or cum got onto my vulva. We used condoms *sometimes*² for frottage, but not always.

One of my early-summer periods was late. May or June or July, I don't exactly remember. I don't think my cycle was consistent at that point anyways, but I was at least trying to track it, and it had been a few days longer than I thought it should've been.

He bought me a pregnancy test and I took it at his house. We talked a little bit about abortion. I didn't tell my mom --at that point, mom did not know I was sexually active in _any_ way. I was raised in a household with much better sex education than most of my peers. I was also raised by two parents who were proud of the fact that they were virgins until they married each other. I was full adult before I ever learned otherwise, of the shades between "nothing remotely sexual" and "PiV intercourse", and as always, virginity is a stupid and complicated concept. Anyways, I still wore the proud virgin banner myself. I was _not_ going to tell mom about this unless I absolutely had to³. Which meant it was just me and him and the tiny piece of plastic.

I remember he told me that stress --like the stress of potentially being pregnant-- was a frequent cause in people being late with their periods. I don't remember the day super clearly, lost in the mixed-up haze that was all the days I stayed at his place, the tiny house with a bedroom and a kitchen and an office where we could be alone. I do remember that it was around this time he told me I wasn't a virgin anymore, that I couldn't think of myself thusly, that I shouldn't call myself asexual.

The test was negative. My period started a few days later. The damage was done.

I don't know when I subconsciously started thinking of it as sexual assault, as opposed to "I've never had sex before and this is confusing but maybe how it always is". Somewhere in this early summer time, was when I asked him if we could step back, do less sexy stuff. Nothing changed.

The times where he used me as a sex toy and didn't notice me cry definitely came after that. I didn't want sex, but he did, so I agreed to let him get off against my ass and back, and was very careful to be quiet with my tears so he wouldn't know I was upset. Honestly, he was so damaged and I was so inexperienced and we both spent so much time of the relationship crying together anyways.

I didn't have to go get an abortion with him. But somewhere in the mess of a plastic stick and a controlling partner, I realized that I Was Not Actually Ready for sex, not any of it. We were a lot more careful with condoms after that (the December weekend where I visited and we broke up, he tried to initiate PiV without a condom, two strikes against him. The anal rape 36 hours later sealed his fate and we broke up for good that weekend. It had been nine months and eight days. since we officially started dating.)

I am so lucky. I managed to keep him from actually having intercourse with me. I did not actually get pregnant. I did not have to get an abortion, and even if I would've had to, I lived in a state where it was legal and had a mother who would've been unthrilled I wasn't talking to her about my sex life, but not at all upset about helping me get the medical care I needed. I am _so lucky_.

As soon as I was able, I got on the birth control pill --the summer between freshman and sophomore years of college, I think. A lot of that is to be on the long kind, so that I don't have to have dysphoria-inducing periods. Some of that is so I don't have to be this kind of scared again, that I was a little less than careful and now I'm a little more pregnant.

I hardly ever have intercourse. Three people total, always with condoms *and* the pill, and it's been...at least a year, maybe two. I am lucky, I have a life where I can have a lot of really wonderful sex that doesn't put me at risk for pregnancy. That doesn't leave me sitting on the side of the tub, holding a stick of plastic and staring and wondering about the physical aftereffects of abortion.

I've been on the pill for the last ten years or so. Is it suddenly illegal for me to visit some states because of it? Do I have to hide my medications, pray that won't seem "worse", like I am smuggling illegal drugs? (Is it all the same thing at that point?)

And of course you can say "well just don't go to those states". But how does that help my cousin and aunt who live in Ohio and I love. How does that help my friends in Atlanta. How does that help the people in Alabama who I don't know and may never know but still respect and care for and want them to be safe.

And how does that help the whole fucking country if the worst comes to pass and abortion is made illegal, if the definition expands against my pills?

Please make a fucking fuss about this. Especially if it "doesn't concern you" if you're not currently uterus-enabled, and not currently societally a woman and therefore shunned.

I'm too exhausted to say anything more right now.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: I saw an article somewhere talking about the idea that, by hyperfocusing on "survivor not victim" mentality, we are inadvertently casting undue judgement on the idea of being a victim, not just in terms of sexual assault or abuse, but in all things. Survivor is still also an incredibly important word for me, but I am trying to be aware of my use of each word, and not avoiding victim just because I don't want to be seen as weak. Victim doesn't mean weak, it means I was _victimized_.

2: Vegan condoms are more expensive and harder to get than non-vegan. As it turns out, non-vegan condoms often contain casein, a milk protein. For someone deathly allergic to milk, like kSatyr, this meant rashes in unpleasant places.

3: Which I did, when he tried to blackmail me with the fact that we'd been sexually active, three months after we broke up. This is a real thing that has happened in my life history, I was raped and then the person who raped me tried to blackmail me to my mother about the fact that we'd had sex.

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[sorcyress]

I give money to the ACLU. I may have to send more.

I certainly want to give money to the specific funds --I've seen some linked on Twitter. I just...feel so frustrated, and wish I could do more.

~Sor