TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of rape
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In the laundry room, I felt fear and shame
I was only 11, you were 14, it wasn’t a game
You threw me on the washer, I pleaded and said no
But you didn’t listen, you wouldn’t let me go
You said it would make me a woman, make me wise
But it left me broken, with tears in my eyes
You forced yourself upon me, without a second thought
And then you said thanks, like it was all the love I sought
The next day, you broke up with me, like I was nothing at all
Leaving me with scars, and standing so small
I hope you don’t have any daughters, to suffer like I did
To feel the pain and betrayal, that you so callously bid
I may have been young, but I knew it was wrong
To be taken advantage of, to feel so alone
But I won’t let you define me, or take away my worth
I will rise above it all, and find my own rebirth
So, in the laundry room, where you had me pinned
I will find my strength, and begin to mend
I won’t let your actions define my fate
I will rise above it all, it’s not too late
I will be the voice for those who can’t speak
And stand up against abuse, to not be meek
I will be a beacon of hope, for those who feel the pain
And let them know they aren’t alone, they have so much to gain
So, in the laundry room, where you had me cornered
I will find my voice, and let it be heard
I will not be silent, I will not cower
I will find my strength, in this darkest hour
When I was 11, my mother and I moved from the Midwest to the west coast. I had this boyfriend who was 14. Yes, my mother knew his age. I had not yet reached puberty. I had no boobs yet, or even any hair on my body. This boyfriend was constantly trying to get me to have sex with him, from the second day of being his girlfriend. I had already learned how to French kiss with my best friend back in my home state, (that's a story for another post) but I had never done so with a boy. He was my first. I remember sitting on the grass, on the hill outside my house. I remember how awkward it was. He kept telling me to use more tongue, move it to the left, up or down, etc. He kept putting his hands down my pants and touching my chest where my boobs had not yet formed.
The laundry room was outside and connected to the pool. It was a public space that did not require a key. Anyone could walk in at any moment. By outside, the building was outside, but the machines were covered. My boyfriend had me in the corner. He was kissing my neck, rubbing his legs on my legs, and I could feel his penis getting hard through his clothes while touching my vagina through my clothes. He kept saying things like, "Come on, this is what people do when they're boyfriend and girlfriend, I'll break up with you if you don't have sex with me, you'll like it, it will be fun, stop being such a baby," etc. I said no. I don't even know how many times. I remember my body feeling tense and pleading with him to not break up with me. He said, "Shut Up!," so loud that I was sure someone was going to come in. No one did. He threw me on top of the washing machine, ripped my pants open, (which my mother would later berate and scold me for because we were poor and she was pissed that she had to buy me new clothes... I was an ungrateful child who has no respect for her or her money...) threw my underwear in the washer, took his clothes off but left my shirt on. He was holding my neck forcefully. I remember at times it was hard to breath. He wasn't enjoying that position enough, so he threw me on the ground on my stomach and re-penetrated me from behind. At this point, he was yanking my hair, moaning, and he was saying, "Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, that feels good, you dirty little girl, etc. He put his finger in my butt, continued to penetrate me while his stomach was now on my back. He sounded like a horse when he ejaculated inside me. When he was done, he rubbed his hands through my hair and called me a good little girl again. He kissed my neck, then used his mouth to "Suck up the juice so people don't know." He then proceeded to stick his finger inside my vagina while using his tongue, and he told me I had to start moaning. He told me this was pleasure and that he was going to make me feel real good. Once again, I'm fearful, complying, but also experiencing pleasure at the same time. He then kissed me on the mouth, with his tongue, and laughed." He got dressed while I'm still laying on the floor in a complete state of dissociation. He said, "Thanks," and then he left. The next day, he broke up with me and started dating the neighbor girl who was 10 years old.
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