I am almost 39. I cannot remember a time that I have ever been comfortable in my own skin. Why? It is something that I am really thinking about lately because recently something has been changing in me….I am starting to figure out who I am a little bit more.
(Notice my battle scar on my cheek from a car accident when I was 17….39 stitches…split all the way through! great plastic surgeon, thank god!)
Maybe this is a coming of age thing, that as you get older you get to know yourself better, you accept who you are and realize that you aren’t going to change drastically this late in your life….or maybe this is just my journey.
I think that mine is more complicated then that though. I think I am more complicated then that. I can be a confusing girl. I can change my mind a million times and I don’t like that. I’m easily influenced. This goes back to my relationship with my Mom I think. I love her so much be we are like oil and water. I think she loves me and hates me at the same time and it has always been so obvious to me. That was so confusing to me when I was younger. The difference in me now is that I am slowly realizing that it was “her” the whole time and not me. Anyway, this is not about my Mom…this is about me. I try to stay away from talking about personal family issues on my blog, just in case one of my family members decides to read my blog. Please understand, I love my Mom with all my heart…there is nobody who has done as much for me in my life then my Mom…but she has a way of destroying me with words. She does it to my husband now too. He pretty much ignores it and just shakes his head but it gets to me, deeply.
I was a content child, mostly in my own world…kind of like I am now…I really liked to create and spent most of my time in an imaginary world. I was very creative and inventive. There were 3 kids in my family. I was the oldest, then my brother and then my sister. The age difference between my sister and I is 3 years and one week. So, 3 kids in 3 years. Maybe that is where I started feeling a little lost.
My father was in the Navy. I moved more times then I care to remember. It was fine until Jr. High. Then it was a nightmare. I did not do well. I had a lot of issues. I was miserable. We moved from Ca. to Va. half way through 7th grade. It did not go well for me. I spent lunch breaks in the bathroom with a book rather then eat alone, for a long time. I had one friend but our lunch breaks never were at the same time.
It was about this time that I stopped wanting to be me. I dreamed about being anyone but me…..slowly Katie became someone who I did not like to be. I became hyper critical of myself and super sensitive to criticism.
Then on Mother’s Day, when I was 15 my friend and I went to a place called Burke Lake. It was a huge park with walking trails, bike trails, campgrounds, boats etc…super fun to hang out at…one of our Mom’s dropped us off. There was a big group of guys by one of the campgrounds that started talking to us. I had to use the restroom and started walking through the woods to the bathrooms. While walking through the woods to the bathroom I was attacked by one of them. I was raped. The 2 biggest things I remember about that day are the rapists eyes (light green snake eyes) and the little patch of sunlight up in the treetops…I just focused on that and prayed….”Please God, Please God, Please God help me” but he didn’t help me. It was terrifying. It was painful. I was bleeding. My shorts were torn, the crotch ripped out. Finally he left, he walked away. I got up and started running and then he came back. He kept telling me that he was sorry and then he did it again. I fought as hard as I could both times but he was too strong (later found out that he was on the US Marine Wrestling Team, or something like that…don’t remember exactly) and had me pinned. Then he took off running. I was a mess. I couldn’t find my friend. I was in shock. I was so naive, I had blood running down my legs and I thought I had started my period. A man saw me and approached me and of course I was terrified of him but he knew, he knew what happened…he had seen the guy running out of the woods and then saw me and my condition.
A group of campers chased him down and tackled him, took his ID and called the police. I used the payphone and called a neighbor with a brother that drove and asked them to come pick me up. I didn’t want my parents to know what happened, I was so ashamed and embarrassed.
I remember pulling up to my house and seeing my sister out front wearing my Jr. Prom dress (the Jr. Prom had been the night before) and when she saw me, she ran because she thought I would freak out. My Mom was outside, maybe talking to a neighbor…can’t remember who exactly. I just headed straight inside, straight down to the basement where my room was. I went to the bathroom and started trying to wash myself….my parents could tell that something had happened or maybe the friends brother told them, I don’t know. They kept banging on the door and I wouldn’t open it…I just curled up on the floor wanting to die. I felt gross. I only had a half bath so I didn’t have a shower or else I would have been right in there. Anyway, my parents called the police and they told them that I couldn’t wash myself…I begged to go upstairs and take a shower but I couldn’t. The police came and I remember the neighbors all peeking out, nosy.
They took me to the basement living room and interviewed me. I wouldn’t allow my parents in the room, I didn’t want them to hear the details. The police had to take me to the hospital to do the exam with the Rape Kit. I had to ride in the police car. This was awful. I was at my worst, most vulnerable moment and I had to ride to the hospital in a police car. You see, my body was the evidence that they had to protect.
I remember getting to the hospital and walking into the ER with them and it being packed. They found a place for me to sit down. They had the bag with my clothes in it. They went up to the desk to tell them what I was there for….everyone was staring at me. I felt so alone, so scared, so humiliated. The lady next to me asked me if my parents had been killed in an accident. I just looked at her like, Whaaaat? What was she talking about? I guess the police escort and the way I looked led her to believe there had been an accident. Surreal. I hardly remember the exam. Just one part of it is all I remember. I was so embarrassed.
I don’t remember going home or the next few days. I do remember reading my bible a lot. I was in shock and don’t remember much of that time. I just remember my parents checking on me a lot and me thinking that they were checking on me because they didn’t trust me. I was a mess.
The rapist was arrested. He was married with a baby. But they didn’t tell me that until way after everything was over as they though it would make me feel guilty and I might drop charges. See, in Va. at the time, the age of consent was 15. This means that if I had been 14, I would not have had to testify as an adult nor prove that he had raped me, just that he had intercourse. Once you turn 15 though you are treated like an adult, which sucks. Let me tell you, what you see on T.V. with rape victims and defense lawyers, is true. Well, I hope that it’s not true now, the courts are SO much more sensitive to victims in sexual assault cases. The prelim with the grand jury was as terrifying as the rape, the defense lawyer was a pig and I was so scared. He kept asking me “How short my shorts were” and I would show them on my leg where the hem was and then he would face the grand jury and show them the hemline but show it SO short, like butt cheek short and I would say, “NO, that’s not how short my shorts were, they were to here” and I would show him again and then he would do it again…finally I stood up and showed the grand jury myself. They had my shorts as evidence anyway. This continued with questions about me and my past, what boys I had dated, what I had done with them etc…. Lots and lots of going over the details and lots of him trying to distort them and make it look like I wanted it or asked for it. Not to mention that the rapist was there and I had to sit with his eyes on me while I told the story and they asked me questions. It was awful. Once again, I wouldn’t allow my parents to be there as I didn’t want them to hear everything that happened. By this time, I had been hospitalized and so the hospital sent a counselor with me to attend the hearings. I really liked her and trusted her, so this was a good thing for me. The given me a female D.A. which was good also.
The grand jury brought charges against him, of course. We had all we needed, his admittance at the scene (when the guys tackled him he told them that we had been doing “boyfriend/girlfriend type of stuff and then I had said NO”),the medical evidence and my testimony. And then as all trials do it dragged and dragged, one continuance after another……and then my Dad got his orders back to Ca. We moved back to Ca. and I was to fly out to Va. to testify. More motions to postpone…until finally the new trial date was the first week of my brand new school of my 10th grade year.
And you know what happened? I couldn’t do it, I didn’t want to do it. The D.A. said that it could take a couple of weeks and that because the age of consent was 15 that meant it was open court, anyone could come in and watch………and honestly, I could NOT do it. I could not go through it again especially in front of people. I was just a girl. I HAD to leave it behind and I had to move forward. I wanted a new life and I did not want to go back to my old life in Va. Never. So I anguished, I didn’t sleep, I was sick to my stomach…but ultimately I had to make a decision for myself. I dropped charges. My dad was SO mad at me that he didn’t talk to me for a long while, he was devastated. I was the only key to putting this guy behind bars. If I had been 14, it wouldnt’ have mattered if I’d testified or not but since I had been 15, I had to. I could not do it. I was so disappointed in myself but so relieved that I didn’t have to go through that again and I didn’t have to look at that big fat pig faced sweaty lawyer who tried to humiliate me and make me look like a slut who asked for it or be in the same room as the man who had hurt me.
For years the rapists eyes haunted me. I would dream that I was in a crowd of people and I would turn and see him, his eyes would be piercing me. He had dead eyes, snake eyes. I hate his eyes. I still remember what they look like and it has been 25 years.
I don’t know if I did the right thing for me or not. I learned through the rape crisis center that an important part of healing is having the judge pronounce the perpetrator guilty, it takes a huge burden off your shoulders. I didn’t’ get that. I carried that shame for years. But I think that if I had to go through the trial, it might have broken me. I was fragile. We will never know.
What I do know is that the Marine Corp saw the details of the case and decided to order psych testing on him and he did not pass and was discharged from the Marine Corp. That’s it, that’s all I know. I have had to find closure myself.
I did a lot of stupid stuff after that, picked a lot of rotten guys, subjected myself to a lot of abuse, kept a part of me closed off from anybody.
But, now I want to like Katie again. I am finding myself. I think living in my first “forever” home has been my first step towards that. I am lucky that I have a husband that is gentle and patient and kind. Trust me, there are issues because of the rape and he understands and he just loves me whether I am broken or not. Sometimes he helps me pick up the pieces and sometimes he is the glue that holds them together. I want to be stronger and a better wife and mother and a better friend to myself.
Learning to like Katie is what this post should have been called. I still don’t think I’m pretty but I think I’m quirky and I like that. I still don’t think I’m always stable but I’m interesting and I like that. I’m learning to like me and learning who I am. It just took me 38 years.
This is so weird that I just poured all this out…….I have no idea why, it’s extremely personal, more then you probably want to know but I started typing about learning to like myself and that all just came out, which tells me that there is more to the rape still lingering then I thought. So I will leave it and I WILL post it and not be afraid of being smacked or losing readers or making you all think I am crazy. I might be, who knows…but I guess you can just stick around for the scrapbooking and crafts! 
I carried this with me forever and still do and maybe this is an important step for me to release it a little bit. Baby steps. baby steps.
~Katie
by Katie
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