I'm not sure if this was a rape...it probably wasn't. But I've carried so much bitterness and self-loathing because of this man that I just need to tell somebody about it.

Growing up, I wasnt really the relationship-type. I never had a real boyfriend until I was 16 and even then I ended it pretty quick because all he wanted was sex and when I wouldn't give it to him, he would do the most childish shit, and I wanted to lose my virginity to someone I really trusted and cared about. Dammit, I had never even kissed anyone until I got in that relationship! So after I ended things with him, I had soon-after started working at a restaurant in my city.  And over the next few months, things in my family had started getting quite bad. My dad has always been very emotionally and verbally abusive to my mom and I, and she was finally starting to fight back and it was causing a lot of tension in our house. So I never wanted to be home..I would stay out as late as I possibly could, I would try to stay at friends houses, and if I couldn't do that, then my job was an easy escape.

Unfortunately, that led to me forming a bond with a 30 year old man who worked with me, and who became a kind of protective figure in my eyes. This man had a fiance. And some kids. But he was always touching me in small ways while we were on shift together, or giving me big hugs, and saying things to make me feel safe and to make me feel like he was there for me and really cared about who I was. He would text me all the time, and over some time, he convinced me that he loved me and that I loved him. I certainly believed I did. He got so much of my time...and money. He would always ask me for money for things he needed, and he knew I'd say yes because he knew I loved helping people. I even sent him money a few times when he would go out of town.

I'll admit, I was in an extremely vulnerable place. I felt alone unless I was with him. I could talk to him and tell him things. He would tell me that I could come to his place to have a break from it all, and so sometimes I would go over there. He touched me a lot, but we never had sex. I was always nervous to let him touch me too much because I was a virgin and there's something slightly intimidating about losing that. At least to me it was. 😅 But I loved this man, right? I would do anything for him, right? He sometimes would get angry with me. I had tried to end the bond between us many times...I would tell him "Youre so much older than me".."you have a family"..."this isn't a good idea" but he always would guilt trip me or get upset with me and draw me back to him in some way, and I'd end up right back at his house or in his car or wherever he wanted me to be.

Finally, he took it. He got my virginity. And I hate myself for letting him. We only did it once, because I cut myself off from him soon after that. But he took it. On the side of the fucking road at 2 in the morning outside his apartment complex because his family was inside.

I hate him and I hate myself and I hate the hold he had on me. I hate that I cared about him.