This is a guest post by Ev`Yan (bio below).
I was fifteen when I entered into a tumultuous relationship with a boy I thought I would marry. In that same year of life I gave my body to him.
In the cramped backseat of a van, as moonlight flooded through the windshield & onto our shoulders, I first experienced the fear in sex; that raw, frightening sense of vulnerability; that vicious kind of surrender, mixed with both Yes & No.
On my back, laying on top of school workbooks & baseball gloves, I winced as I braced myself with each penetration, his mouth recklessly finding mine. So many emotions were pulsating through my body: love, anxiety, excitement, dread, satisfaction, sadness… and not one ounce of pleasure.
I was confused. Was this sex? Was this what the fuss was all about? It all seemed so… careless; so meaningless. I felt my mind leave my body & it hovered over me for the next 10 minutes as I struggled with losing my innocence.
When it was over, I put on my clothes slowly. My body felt like it was vibrating; I could barely tie my shoe laces. I was trembling.
The thoughts in my mind raced as he drove me home. I sat quietly in the passenger seat, ruminating over what had just happened. My feelings were mixed: I felt violated; I felt pain, actual physical & emotional pain; I felt joy for successfully mimicking the passion & moves of a “real” woman; I felt confused; I felt lost; I felt terrifyingly exposed.
These emotions carried on into every single sexual activity he & I found ourselves in. It waxed (very seldom waned) until the day he forced me free from his grip, nearly three years later, when our relationship ended without much warning. He left me picking up the pieces of my broken heart. Many of those pieces were never found; I believe he still has them in his possession.
I have nothing of his.
Months passed.
On the telephone one evening, a friend of mine was playfully coaxing me to get into the nitty-gritty of my sexual relationships. So I told him of my ex-lover. I told him of the tears, the anxiety, the feelings of despair every time he penetrated my body. I told him of the few times I tried (& failed) to slice open my flesh after having sex with him, making thick welts on my arms that lasted for the rest of the evening — my battle scars.
I said these things lightheartedly, almost laughing, as if it were a normal part of any relationship. I’ll never forget the horror in my friend’s voice:
“My god, Ev`Yan. That’s not normal,” he said, concerned. “That was rape.”
It took my friend’s brutal honesty for me to see the sexual unhealthiness in my previous relationship. Before that, it had never entered my mind.
From that moment on, my idea of sex shifted into a place of darkness.
I suddenly found myself in a new relationship, one that thrived naturally, without any persuasion. And within weeks after meeting him, I made the conscious decision to give him my body, & we found ourselves in a shoddy motel room, hormones racing through our veins, fueled by a paroxysm of lust, & (unbeknownst to me at the time) love.
But no sooner did we tear off our clothes than my mind immediately, automatically, went back to that night in the van & all the other nights I had endured. The agony. The uncertainty. The lack of consent.
My body began to panic; my skin began to crawl. I wanted this man off of me, now. I wanted to fight back. I wanted to scream & kick & hit my way out. But I just laid there, my body fluctuating between being stiff & limp, silent tears dripping down my cheeks.
There it was. The trauma, the fear, heaving itself up & out of no where into my present situation. My mind & body flung then itself into a fit of anxiety so severe that I couldn’t breathe.
This reaction — this post-traumatic response — proceeded to happen every time I had sex with my new lover. Explaining to him brokenness didn’t come right away, but when it came it came with a barrage of tears, screams, & kicks. It came with debilitating anxiety & panic. It came with an unconscious reaction to flee.
One night, after sex left me once again broken on the bathroom floor, I finally acknowledged my pain & my defilement. And through that acknowledgment, I gave myself permission to heal.
This is my story. It is surely different from the account of my ex-lover; my truth is not his.
I have made peace with the fact that this trauma is & always will be a part of my history.
If I could have known how detrimental those sexual acts would’ve been to my inner being, I would have fought my way from underneath him; I would have said no. But I was young & stupid then. The damaging aspect of our sexual relationship was well hidden by the deep, blind infatuation we had for each other.
If I had known all of this, truly I would have spoken up.
I am speaking up now.
My story might look similar to yours, or perhaps it is completely different.
There are a lot of things that encompass sexual trauma; many emotions, actions, inner red flags. There is no linear definition of it. It is unique to the individual. Sexual trauma comes in all shapes & sizes.
Regardless of your experience, & regardless of what you choose to call it for the rest of your life — rape, abuse, an unhealthy sexual relationship, naivete, assault — one thing’s for certain:
Sex should never be damaging. Never.
It should always be freeing, beautiful, bountiful. It should lift your spirit up. It should be drenched in implicit trust with eyes wide open, not shut.
Sex should always give you pleasure, physically & emotionally.
Ev`Yan is a female liberation artist & writer. She spins unadulterated truth over at her blog, Sex, Love & Liberation. She recently wrote & self-published a book celebrating sensuality, personal freedom, & so much more. Say hello to her on Twitter.
Everything Belongs
Seasons are universal. Treat yours uniquely.
Ev’Yan, deep bows, again, for sharing your story here so honestly and powerfully. The turn of these two lines especially radiates hope for me:
“If I had known all of this, truly I would have spoken up.
I am speaking up now.”
It’s never too late. Healing can happen. Thank you for this reminder to us all.
Comment by Kristin Noelle — July 20, 2011 @ 12:23 pmI echo Kristin’s response: deep awe and gratitude for your honesty. Your words have given me much to ponder. Much to reconsider in my own life.
The lines that I will ponder most are the last ones: “It should always be freeing, beautiful, bountiful. It should lift your spirit up. It should be drenched in implicit trust with eyes wide open, not shut. Sex should always give you pleasure, physically & emotionally.”
That has not what sex has always been for me. But it is what I want sex to be going forward. Thank you for sharing this powerful story.
Comment by GailNHB — July 20, 2011 @ 1:23 pmKristin & Gail: I have no words to say other than thank you. I hope that suffices.
<3
Comment by Ev`Yan — July 20, 2011 @ 5:07 pmDear Ev’Yan,
I’m a big fan of your writing and appreciate your courage in sharing your story. I am, however, a bit confused as to whether or not you personally regard your experience as rape, and if you think of your first lover as a rapist? I ask because you say in the first line that you “gave” your body to him. Wouldn’t that be consent?
I was sexually abused as a child, and while I was never raped, I do find it somewhat confusing as to how one knows if she was raped. Is it when you say no and your wishes are not respected? Is it a matter of simply not being into it but going along with it for the sake of doing a duty, or fear of recourse?
Comment by alysha — July 23, 2011 @ 12:06 pm[...] I seriously want to link to every post that has gone up, but I will settle for just this one: Sexual Healing, A Confession of Trauma and leave it to you to scroll back through the [...]
Pingback by Body Loving Blogosphere 07.24.11 | medicinal marzipan — July 24, 2011 @ 7:05 amAlysha,
No, I don’t think that my first lover is a rapist; I cannot say that I was raped (those were my friend’s words, not mine). But did I experience sexual trauma in my first relationship? Yes. Was it intended by my ex lover? Probably not.
I gave my body to my lover not understanding the repercussions of such an adult decision. I don’t wish to go into too much detail, but the kind of sex we had was not healthy (sometimes not fully consensual) & therefore was traumatic… for me.
The point of this post was to bring light to a subject that is quite broad with a lot of grey areas.
As for your question about how one knows they’ve been raped. For me, I feel that that has many definitions depending upon the personal story.
For instance… a woman begins loving intercourse with her lover, willingly & consensually, & the act suddenly turns violent & dominating, making her fearful & disturbed. For others, because she said yes (perhaps even because this person was her husband!) this does not translate as rape. But for the girl who experienced it, & who is constantly reliving that trauma every time the man enters her… it was rape.
I hope my answer makes sense. This is such a sticky, tricky topic, one that I am very grateful that Kristen has started.
Comment by Ev`Yan — July 25, 2011 @ 7:31 pm[...] (Click here to continue reading this post…) [...]
Pingback by Sexual Healing: A Confession of Trauma. | Sex, Love & Liberation — July 25, 2011 @ 10:25 pmI share a similar history, and I thank you for your candor. I also thank you for answering the previous commenter’s question about rape; it clarified your post for me. As I said before, I’ve experienced something similar and reacted in similar ways. For me, the trauma has never fully left, but between inner healing and outward understanding (from my sometimes baffled husband), I’m having more pleasures that outweigh the past pain. Learning to be present and patient with myself has help a lot (though it has not been easy).
Comment by b. — July 26, 2011 @ 6:06 amThank you for sharing your story. Sex should never be damaging but so many times it is and people are afraid to admit it, let alone share it. You have become a lot of young girls hero today. Thank you.
Comment by Meg — July 26, 2011 @ 9:40 amThank you for writing this. As I believe someone wrote before me: It is never too late to start healing. And it is never too late to acknowledge something that you’ve been hiding deep down.
I am however troubled by something in this blog post, and it is the phrase “I gave my body to [...]“. I am afraid that when one uses this way of describing sexual interactions, it sort of sends a message to the subconscious that you are doing this not for you, but for someone else. I do not think it is an apt description of sex and in the long run it might damage one’s perception of what sex and lust is. Do you understand what I mean?
Comment by Jen — July 26, 2011 @ 12:50 pmJen,
I completely understand what you mean, & that is precisely why I worded it in that way.
I said that I “gave” my body to my ex lover, & I meant that. I absolutely had sex for his benefit, his pleasure, & not my own… which reiterates how unhealthy this relationship was. He had power over me because he took my virginity; I *let* him have that power; I *gave* him that power.
So no, it’s not an apt description of healthy sex because that’s not the kind of sex I was having.
Does that make sense?
I’m so glad people are speaking up about their concerns, because this story is very vague in some areas (for the story itself & to protect the privacy of it) & I’m glad that I’m able to clarify things.
Thanks for your comment, Jen.
Comment by Ev`Yan — July 26, 2011 @ 2:09 pmThank you for sharing your story. You are doing amazing healing work! I had never really thought about sexual violation in this way before, but I understand it, especially after reading some of the questions and answers here. The act of sex is a journey, you go from one place to another and so many feelings, diversions, unexpected turns can possibly happen in between beginning and ending.
It is a shame that we don’t have some sort of Karma Sutra training for Men, young men, women and young women. I think most young (and some older) people struggle in the area of sexual first-times because of ignorance.
Comment by Kali — July 26, 2011 @ 6:47 pmKali, I really resonate with your thought about the value of some sort of training, and would LOVE to hear about any resources any of you know of to help us (me!) navigate being parent to a boy and a girl and talking with them about the power and beauty and potential risks related with their sexual experiences.
Comment by Kristin — July 26, 2011 @ 8:20 pmThank you Ev’Yan, I do think this is a very important topic. I often try to repress my memories of what I would not call rape, but certainly not sex with full consent, let alone desire, passion, confidence, willingness, pleasure, etc that I experienced as a teenager.
I think a lot of it is the desire to be wanted, to be loved – so we give in to what we think boys want. And a lot of it is about not giving our own feelings and voice enough importance, enough power. We can so easily put our own needs below someone else’s, especially as young girls, and we often don’t get the message that our consent and our pleasure has meaning and value.
While it’s been many years for me since I’ve had those specific experiences, I find it still carries into and can negatively impact otherwise consentual sex with men I have loving relationships with, and also still affects my self esteem. As a result, at 42 years old I am just now finding more confidence in sexuality and pleasure and desire and being able to express that. It’s sad to think of the years lost in not fully enjoying this gift with my ex husband and ex partner because of the shame and fear it brought.
I am very lucky to have a man now who I trust and can discover the beauty of intimate, passionate, expressive, and yes totally hot sex with and feel great about it. It is a topic that definitely needs more discussion and open honesty, and our young girls definitely need to feel empowered and worthy so they can make sexual decisions that are right for them and not somebody else.
So thank you again for your courage and honesty.
Comment by Tracy Chapman — July 27, 2011 @ 9:53 pmThank you.
Comment by Holly — July 28, 2011 @ 3:41 pmYou’re so brave for writing this in the open. I’ve been flipping back and forth to your site. There weren’t times I couldn’t resonate, but this story breaks off into reverberations somewhere deep that’s hidden in the day. It lurks when men glance my way. It’s even difficult to have friendships with men. It’s getting better I guess. Perhaps, because I am now in a loving relationship. Trauma goes a long way. And I wish to become more vulnerable, to confess would bring so many repercussions. I admire you and I also envy your courage.
Comment by Rhina — July 28, 2011 @ 8:37 pm[...] Ev’Yan from Sex, Love and Liberation, whose writing always strikes a chord deep down in me somewhere, writes about sex and trauma. [...]
Pingback by Links - ♥ davinia hamilton — July 29, 2011 @ 4:24 amI was directed here from Medicinal Marzipan. I didn’t know what that was bringing to me. I went through this very same thing. I was being sexually used. (Never penetration.) But, too much. For too long.
I finally decided to engage in sex with a guy (I was 28) – someone I barely knew. I didn’t feel a thing. I felt numb. Considering I expected to feel disgust and horror, I assumed this numbness meant pleasure. I realize now it didn’t.
I have been with my boyfriend for almost a year. I have had to tell him about my past because sometimes I am triggered very easily and by some comments.
Thank you.
Comment by Lisa — August 5, 2011 @ 6:48 pmThank you so much for this. I struggle with sex a lot and my husband tries to help, but I just need to give myself permission to heal. Easier said then done.
Comment by Anastasia — August 14, 2011 @ 2:31 amThank you so much for this… I’ve been feeling guilty lately while on top of realizing that my first sexual experience, four years ago, was a completely traumatic one. The only way I’ve ever been able to describe it was “rape-y” because, while it was technically consensual, I wanted to say no. I wanted him to stop. It hurt so much and he made me feel so guilty later. I laid there and took it. It wasn’t sex, it felt violent. I have very mixed emotions about it, and I always feel unjustified when there are people who have been attacked, assaulted and/or raped. People who flat out said no, people whose situations were objectively wrong and who have every right to be traumatized. I however willingly went into the situation and left completely traumatized. But your article really helped. I’m now in a long term loving relationship and I know what sex is now. I still haven’t totally been able to let myself heal, but again, I think you’re article can help.
Comment by Annette — July 27, 2012 @ 11:28 amThanks again.