I met up with a guy from Tinder the other night and as usual he assumed we would hook up and I assumed he would want that, but before it happened I let him know that I have a bit of anxiety around sex as I was sexually assaulted more than once so if I freeze up or ask him to stop it's not on him it's a me thing.
His response? He asked if we could talk about something that was "less of a downer."
Somehow me warning a man I was about to have sex with that I had been raped and have PTSD was an inconvenience to him.
He told me I "killed the mood" and he because of that he was just going to take me home.
He blocked me that night but not before telling me I had too much baggage and that I shouldn't let my past influence my future.
What I didn't get to explain to him before his name disappeared from my matches was that my rape isn't my past. It's my present and future.
It revisits me every time I sit on my couch or in my bed or passed the parking lot at my local abandoned Kmart. It creeps into my life when I hear a person's laugh that sounds like his or when I smell his cologne.
The permanent yet invisible to the naked eye scars it left present themselves when a guy touches my thigh without asking or chokes me during sex without warning or raises their voice while we are together.
Today I get a message from him on my Snapchat, which I had forgotten I'd given him, that asked if I had "learned how to not kill guys' vibes," followed by "lmao."
My rape was funny to him. My tears were funny to him. My pleading to him to understand where I was coming from was funny to him.
My rape is not a downer. It's a life-altering event that impacts me every day. It's something that a man may have caused but I will never let a man use it to make me feel weak or invalid.
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