Freshman year of college, I had a guy friend who I went to parties with. His roommate started going with us, and we became friends. Suddenly this guy (the roommate) was involved in every aspect of my life. If I posted on social media a location on campus with my friends, he’d show up and try to hang out with us. Given it was early days into the year, I saw no harm in the situation- slightly creeped out, yes, but I had summed it up to him just trying to meet new people as he was somewhat introverted and the group I was associate with was extremely inclusive and welcoming. Time continued to pass, and by three weeks into the semester he was friends with everyone in the group, always hanging around, showing up at my room with the girls. I had a sneaking suspicion he was possibly a little to interested, and ended up having a conversation with him about how I wasn’t interested in him romantically, and had told him several times I wanted a platonic relationship. So had my friends, including his roommate, my friend who had introduced us. One night the girls and I went to a party, and he tagged along. All night he was attempting to grind on me, and I continued to tell him I wasn’t interested. People I didn’t even know were telling him he needed to chill out and, to be blatant, take a hint. Anyway, I got black out drunk, while he was sober, and convinced the other girls with us to let him take care of me. He took me to a hotel (of which I only remember vomiting outside in a potted plant and a woman trying to keep me away from him) and proceeded to have intercourse with me. The only thing I remember was crying and telling him we shouldn’t, and I didn’t like him like that between coming in and out of consciousness. He told me that would change, and this would happen again. The reason I’m sharing is because I was in your position. He was a virgin, I was not. The story was twisted to say, that even though I was in no position to conscient, and had made it clear I did not want to proceed, I was blamed and branded a whore by the entire group of “friends” from that evening. However I knew I was not sexually attracted to him, had defined our friendship and remembered little of the night. He proceeded to “turn to Jesus” and get counseling after the experience, and attempted to blackmail me into going to a session with him, threatening that he would “expose me for playing a victim” and trying to tell everyone my ex, whom he had never spoken to, abused me mentally, and sexually. To make matters worse, he continued to infiltrate my life, by starting to date my then roommate (who was apart of the group from the party.) He made my life a living hell, always in my room. My roommates bed was parallel to mine on the opposite wall. When she would fall asleep, he would lay there staring at me until he had to leave for the 3am building curfew (thank god we lived in different buildings and non residents could not be in your building past 3.) my roommate hated me, she stopped speaking to me completely outside of muttering snide comments and rolling her eyes. It got so bad i practically moved into a friend unassociated with the groups room. Any time I had guy friends in the room (which was rare) he would try to convince them I was a dirty slut, and to avoid me if they didn’t want to “catch a case.” What made matters worse was after my roommate and him broke up, this group of “friends” reached out to me, apologizing for taking his side. Only for him to resurface and tell new people in the group his side of the story. These new people were the roommates of the guy one of the girls was dating- who I had no interest in trying to defend myself to, and rehashing the situation with. I felt so alone. I have never been one to see myself as a victim, and refused to see myself as one even still. I tried to disassociate from it, acting like it didn’t happen. I had a small group of friends outside of the group who I confided in. But because I refuse to be a victim, and acknowledge the situation, I go through periods of self hatred. I hate myself for allowing him in my life when he started getting clingy and ignoring the red flags. I hate myself for allowing myself to become so intoxicated I wasn’t able to rationalize the situation, and for the danger I put myself in. I hate myself for not defending my side out of denial and allowing him to give others a false perseptoon of me. Maybe because of all of the, for lack of a better term “victim blaming” I experienced. Now I just feel broken and find it hard to trust. I ruined the last relationship with a guy I had genuine feelings for because I doubted everything. I’m so afraid. Afraid of my parents reaction if they found out. Afraid no one will want me when they know what happened.

I’m not looking for sympathy. I just needed to put my side of my story out there, because I feel like I have been painted to be the bad guy and it ruined a good two years of my life.