What It Means To Love Your Rapist

Spiritual Journey Of A Slut
Oct 7, 2021
12 min read

Updated: Oct 8, 2021

I have an ex from my past. He was my partner for 6 years…. and 7 years now since we dated. He was my many “firsts” including the first person I truly learned to love. I was with him from age 16 until 22. I have a story to tell about him now. It’s my story to tell and it’s past due that I speak openly about my life without the other persons’ feelings so highly considered all the time. YOU SHOULD HAVE TREATED ME BETTER if my truth affects you so much. And that goes for everyone.

He has shown me with his actions, his lies, and even the truth quite a few times that I am nothing more than a few holes for him to get into. Albeit, his favorite holes, but holes all the same. This is upsetting because I learned to love him appropriately over the course of our relationship. He is who showed me I was capable of actually loving someone the right way in a relationship. I have not wanted him sexually in many years, that will never change. But, I still often think of him. I have truly hoped for the best for him.

I have hoped him to find someone that loves him and that he loves. I deep down want him to be happy and it has nothing to do with me whatsoever. That was the first time I realized what love really was when I was still with him. It took me 3 years to get there. I remember thinking before that realization:

“why am I unable to truly love someone selflessly?”

I had 2 amazing examples of what that looked and felt like: my grandparents.

I believed something was wrong with me because I couldn’t see past my own selfishness. But, ask and you shall receive.

Slowly I began seeing a lot of my selfish ways become less and less at the forefront of my motives and my actions in the relationship. I started to empathize with him during different hardships we stumbled upon. I was changing from a selfish teenager into a person somewhat less selfish and someone learning what love and respect was concerning someone that I picked to have in my life.

I remember when his grandmother passed away and I was able to put my own self aside and act in a way that promoted his healing without regard for my self. I began loving him. One day, and I can’t remember what exactly happened that sparked this, but he was going through a particularly difficult time, and I remember crying and thinking “I don’t care if it’s with me, I hope he can find happiness after this problem”. And then it kind of startled me because I had never really had that thought before in an organic way and truly meant it. But, I did this time. I meant it wholeheartedly.

I wanted his happiness and peace over my selfish need to be with him. I instantly knew that was what love truly was at its’ core. I also realized how rare love might be in my life and in others’ lives.

It’s not that compulsive urge to keep a person for yourself or to make sure they do “right” in life by your standards or whatever type of “good” person you can change them into. It wasn’t the need to control him to stay.

It wasn’t lust or my desire to have sex with him all the time at that point. It was just accepting and wanting his happiness without OR with me.

That didn’t mean I didn’t want him in my life, I did. But with that exact same intensity I wanted him to have happiness. When those two equal each other, you are happy yourself with either outcome. Truly. Not “maybe I will be ok without them” or “maybe it will piss me off to see them with someone else”. Or “damn they did me wrong they don’t deserve someone to treat them well”. No. That’s not love. Love is being absolutely sure that their peace is most important.

It was a turning point in my relationships and what I saw to be important thereafter. He means a lot to me no matter what he’s done. But, I am still a human with an ego that sometimes is a little bigger than I’d hope. With that fact comes some resentment that has slowly built up over the last 7 or so years we have been broken up.

He has found a way to trash talk me and whatever current partner I have at the time. He gets fucked up and texts long novels showcasing his victimhood about the relationship and everything he believes I’ve done wrong to cause him such pain yet strategically leaving out the many things he also contributed to our ending. He has threatened suicide because of me not wanting to be with him. He has acted as though he owns me and my body and what my future holds. He acts as if our love is somehow an excuse for any of his actions towards me. He has absolutely tried to tear me down with any sight of happiness in my own life EVERY time it’s apparent to him I might be happy.

He has never wanted my happiness over his selfish need to have me.

He does not see it this way of course. I don’t expect him to any longer. I can’t change that in him or make him see it, that’s not love. But, I know it to be true. With everything in me, I do. He thinks he loves me more than anyone he’s ever met. He’s obsessed with me, but obsession is the opposite of love, I’m aware of this now. He doesn’t understand he doesn’t love me at all. He never has.

But, I haven’t gotten over his need to be as sneaky as possible and try to use his imaginary control over my body and then come out the other side screaming about his heartbreak to cover for it.

Years after we had broken up, I had moved on completely long before this point and would never look back to him in that way. He still would backtrack, and text me, and blame me, and hate me, and then “love” me, and back again. This was a common theme that I’ve never been able to break free from with him.

I let him vent and I would either block him or tell him to get it together. I would engage with him if he was acting appropriate towards me but that was always fleeting. Always. I knew this. But, I can still love someone whether they love me or not. And I did and I do. He thinks I don’t because I don’t want him sexually.

That should be his first sign that I DO love him because I still put up with whatever he throws my way. I want absolutely nothing from him in any way, and I still am someone he can call if he needs help or someone to care about him for more than just the immediate gratification of doing so. I don’t care to feel like a “good person” when concerning him. At all. I say and do things constantly that don’t reflect that statement. But, deep down I truly love him. And that’s what matters to me and maybe to him if he would accept that. If he doesn’t, that’s ok too.

There are 2 instances that bother me to my core. My ego and I would like to vent about them here because I think it’s important to my journey of self love. I’ve let so much go over the years only to realize I just appeared to let it go, I’ve really just placed bandaids each time. I’m ready to take them off.

I’m on a journey that looks slightly different than the journey of those that aggressively cut off any sign of a “bad” person in their life. I’m not her and I am fine with that now. It’s not “me” at all and I am beginning to love that about myself.

1st instance:

We had been broken up years. Sex had been out of the question for even longer at this point. Anyone with even the slightest bit of a concept of sex and consent would have said that I didn’t want him and had not for a long time. I told him so many times that I can’t even begin to explain them here. He had fought this for the years to come. He still fights it, often. I hope this explains just how non consenting of a person I was at this particular time.

Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew I did not want to have any type of sexual relationship with him and I had already had multiple new partners that I cared about and so on. Years had passed since I wanted my ex in that way. He was supposed to come to my house from out of town to stay while he was in town with our dog that we had gotten together years before. That was the usual plan when he came into town because I had an apartment he was always welcomed to stay in if he needed a place to stay. I had fallen asleep because it was late. He got there in the middle of the night. I had left the door unlocked for him.

He came into my room and started eating me out. I was asleep. I woke up and was in a state of confusion and felt I was still dreaming in a way. I was kind of frozen but also unaware of who it even was, I just felt something happening that I didn’t expect would be happening at all. I laid there in that frozen state no longer than a couple minutes until I realized who he was, what he was doing, and that it was happening to me in real life. Not dreamland. But, even in dreamland, it wouldn’t have been ok, either.

I said

“WHAT THE FUCK???!!”

he said

“come on, you like it, you’ve been awake for a few minutes now just let me fuck you please”

I said

“hell no!!! Get the fuck off of me!”

And he begged a few more times and finally I kind of kicked at him and he stopped and started pouting about his poor bruised ego.

These are the texts I sent at some point in the following days. I’m green

He doesn’t care past his own selfish desires

He didn’t care he just raped me. He didn’t care that he knows my history of being molested as a child and how sensitive I am to sex and what it means to me. He cared that I turned him down.

I didn’t quite think or feel in those terms, yet. But, I do now. Because that’s what happened. It’s very strange… manipulation and the way it tricks you. It tricks you into believing it’s not a big deal. It tricks you into even FEELING it’s not and CAN’T BE a big deal. I still saw him as the first person I learned to love, not as my rapist.

Surprisingly, now, those two have merged together. I love my rapist and can see both without too much conflict. I do, I still love him for who he is. Rape or not. But he IS my rapist. He raped me and it’s so sad to say that because of how important he is to me, also. Many might separate those two things at this point. But, that doesn’t align with who I am. I can love him and he can be my rapist as well. The latter causes me to resent him. But, I can resent him and I can love him, too. It’s strange to be in this place because of all the other emotions and thought patterns engrained in me that fight this. But I am not who I say I am if I don’t love my rapist…

I hope that makes sense.

Trust me, it’s been very tempting at times to just throw in the towel completely. Like I said before, I want nothing he has to offer. Nothing. Money, his love, his friendship, sex. Especially sex.

Most importantly sex.

But I think that’s what IS most important in all of this is that I don’t want a damn thing he can ever do for me, I actually wish he would STOP doing anything (like STOP thinking he can do or say anything sex or love related to me). I can love him without ever speaking to him again. That’s love. And that’s what I have to do now.

The 2nd instance:

A couple more years after the first instance, I had quit my hometown nursing job to move to a bigger city and make more money being a nurse there. I also felt I needed to “get away” at this time. Another nurse I knew had just gotten hired on in this bigger city and we were going to live together. It so happened to be the same city this ex lived in at the time.

That was a relief; knowing someone else there. A familiar face. Someone I loved and cared about and (at the time) I believed those feelings were reciprocated back to me. I was still manipulated into thinking the first instance was just a bump in the road, a problem with him being high and making a poor decision. Nothing more. I had mostly chalked it up to that at this point in time. He had gotten off easy. Just what he wanted to happen. But, that made him too careless with his actions in the future with me.

Mistakes were made again.

It ended up that I couldn’t live with the other nurse when it got down to the last days before I was supposed to move. I had already quit my job, gotten hired in the bigger city, and was just waiting to do my drug test and go to orientation in the following week. I had no home to go to now that I couldn’t live with that nurse. I hit up my ex and asked if I could stay there until I got on my feet. I was going to get my own apartment but needed a few checks first before I could do so financially. He said yes.

Long story short, the entire process of moving and traveling and getting down there… and starting that job… etc… was HORRIBLE. Every step of the way it felt VERY wrong for my own life and what I wanted to achieve.

Also, I hated the nursing job. Absolutely hated it. The other nurses were rude. It was a night shift position. I was tired, miserable, and didn’t agree with any of the ways they “nursed” their patients at all. I was a brat, but they also fucking sucked. I was wrong for taking that position and I was wrong for thinking I could force something outside of myself to make me happy. Oops.

One night during the chaos of my bad decision to even fucking be there at all, I was asleep on the couch. My ex was sitting next to me watching a movie. The next thing I know, I get woken up to him rubbing my feet on his dick. He had my foot in his hand and was rubbing it up and down his fucking dick. I was so fucking disgusted I absolutely couldn’t stand it. I actually gagged laying there frozen. I was frozen maybe a minute or less then I kicked at him, asked him what in the FUCK he was doing.

He said

“what do you mean?”

I said

“you know what the fuck I’m talking about”

and he played stupid. imagine that.

I called my old boss the next day and asked if I could have my old job back. She said yes. I moved back that weekend. The whole process took 1 month almost exactly. I had quit my original job, moved me and all my stuff by myself to a big city 6 hours away, started a new job, got into a wreck, hated all of it, got sexually assaulted for the 2nd time by my ex, and moved back home again to start back at my original job in my safe space.

It was a bad month.

So those are the two summarized stories of how I was sexually assaulted by an ex. He knew and knows better. He has this problem with thinking that since I’m younger than him and he had complete control of me years ago, he can continue to assert his control. He can’t. He won’t accept that. So, he tried to take it. He still didn’t get it. And he ruined any chances of ever having it again.

Truthfully, the chances were slim regardless. And, that is because of the mistakes we have both made. I did not see my future with him in it for quite some time and I was right in thinking so given the circumstances. Had I stayed with him, his underlying control problem would have affected me in other ways and I would not have been able to become the person I am now. I am better for being with him.

Not only because the strength I gained from the bad times I’ve experienced because of him, but also because of the countless amazing times I had with him as well. It’s easy to only see the bad during these stories. Really easy. But, I didn’t get with him and stay with him and learn to love him because he’s a bad person. He’s not, I’m not either. These are two of his more darker moments if I had to guess even though I don’t really know what he is like much anymore. He’s shown me he hasn’t ever truly confronted his dark side at every attempt at communication with him. I hope he is able to soon with the knowledge that he can be “this” person and also still be someone worth loving and someone I will continue to love.