By Leigh
One summer night, my husband was being his normal and playful self and initiating sex. He was play wrestling me on the bed, holding down my hands while he straddled me from above. I fought back playfully and struggled to move his 300 pound frame even an inch. As he continued to hold me, smiling and laughing together, something sparked in my brain. He unknowingly triggered a memory that I had suppressed for five years. The memory was of my sexual assault.
The summer between my junior and senior year of college I was sexually assaulted by a young man who had been my 5th grade crush. I had known him for ten years. He was the last person I would have expected to force himself on me, but he did. That encounter quietly, yet permanently, changed me.
I relate my experience of surviving a sexual assault to suddenly inheriting a gigantic female black bear. She is an unwanted companion who takes up space in my soul and creates a significant shadow on aspects of my being. I almost didn’t notice when she moved in, and she didn’t wake until much later. Five years after the bear arrived and started her hibernation, I was married with a kid. That summer night, when my husband decided to use playful aggressiveness in the bedroom--a sincere attempt at an exciting and positive sexual encounter--The Bear decided to make her presence known. Teeth bared and growling.
It was during that unexpected awakening that I truly remembered and faced my assault and what it had done to me. Of all the men I had been with before I was married, it was the one I knew the longest who was the one to break my trust. There were others--consensual hook ups--who were flat out respectful in comparison. Why couldn't this guy who knew me as a kid be that way? It made me feel worthless.
That night, when The Bear was wakened, I cried and yelled at my husband. My sweet, wonderful and amazing husband who did absolutely nothing to deserve my anger. I broke into a thousand pieces. We cried together. I stood outside the back door of my rural home crying my eyes out in the pouring summer rain. I fell to my knees in prayer. I felt helpless. I felt scared.
Since the assault, I occasionally wonder if I had forced The Bear into existence with the notion that the assault was my fault. As a product of strict Christian schooling from 4th- 12th grade, I was strongly influenced by the ideals of abstinence before marriage. I was of the mind that sex before marriage initiated bad results that would affect you forever, whether those effects be disease, procreation, or psychological hardship.
Did my sin make me pay this penalty? Did I lead my childhood friend on? Did we drink alcohol beforehand? I really don't recall. Either way, it didn't matter. He still did what he did and he knew it was wrong. I know he knows it was wrong because three years after the assault, he provided me with a written apology via Facebook messenger. He said that he was about to be deployed with the military and wanted to take the time to admit his fault and express his remorse for what he did to his childhood friend that night. I accepted his apology and wished him safety while overseas.
Generally speaking, all of my past sexual experiences haunt me in my marriage. Maybe it was the lack of sexual education as a developing woman. Maybe it was the sense of confidence and empowerment my sexuality gave me in my 20’s. Maybe it was the false sense of self-worth I gained during that time because of my sexual decisions. It is a sort of self-diagnosed post traumatic stress disorder that I now associate with sex. Some days are better than others, but it is still very difficult as a married woman. I want it all to just go away, but it doesn't go away. I am working to move forward so that I can have a fully positive relationship with sex in my marriage.
No matter the cause, I refuse to let that past tarnish my future and my amazing relationship with my husband, the father of my now two beautiful children. I keep writing, keep talking to him, keep being honest with myself, and keep recognizing The Bear who resides in me. I could pretend The Bear does not exist, or I can accept it and take control over Her presence. The Bear guards the most vulnerable depths of my soul. These are spaces no other person can or may fill; neither my husband nor my children. These spaces are occupied by The Bear, and they are mine to reclaim.
I think one of the most terrible parts of all is how this has hurt my innocent husband. Sometimes it feels like I can handle the emptiness that is my sexual desire, but he can’t. His feeling, I believe, is that sex is an important expression of love between a husband and wife or any committed partnership. For him, marriage without sex is missing love’s most cherished expression. As a man whose love language is “physical touch,” I can’t help but feel sad and guilty that I can’t just fix this residual discomfort from my assault from my past with a flip of switch.
He is so loving, patient, and understanding, though. I am truly blessed. He has been through endured the ups and downs of our sex life, understanding the fears that are out of my control. I am thankful to say things are getting better. They are much better than they were even one year ago. As for my husband and I, we maintain our partnership in taking those daily steps to assist in my healing and growth from the assault I experienced and the challenges we meet along the way.