But, He Cares About Me

A little over six months before the big trip, I met him on Compatible Partners-the LGBT arm of eHarmony.  We hit it off very quickly and were soon texting daily and we began FaceTiming.

Six months went by where we would FaceTime daily and text throughout the day. I spent virtual dinners with him, I spent time with him at the office when it was just him there, went with him on his visits, and we spent nearly every waking hour either texting on and off while working or on FaceTime when work was over or he was out on a visit. But, because of how far away he lived, we hadn't met in person. We began planning a trip for June.

June came and I went to pick him up at the airport. I met him with Dr. Pepper and Peanut Butter M&M's-his two favorite things to have while on a car ride. Things were going well, we had a lot of places he wanted to visit, and, we were connecting even more over coffee, a beach trip, and planning what we would see.

That all changed when we decided to spend the night in my hometown, get up the next morning, see the town I was born and raised in, and then head to Shipshewana, Indiana for the day before resuming our trip in Chicago and then head out to Kansas.

That night, in my hometown, I was sexually assaulted. I've shared details of the sexual assault before and, after a year and a half of therapy, I finally feel like it is over and I don't care to share them again. After being pinned down by someone I had spent the last six months getting to know, my mind was doing sommer saults.

"You told him no". I'd say. In the next breath, "But, he cares about me. So, it must have been something I did that said yes."

"He must have seen the fear in my eyes." "BUT, he cares about me. So, he would never do something to make me afraid."

"How much clearer could I have been?" "BUT, HE CARES ABOUT ME!" "Saying no must not have been clear enough."


The night it happened, I tossed and turned the whole night blaming myself for what happened. My sleep was terrible and, the next day, I had to drive from my hometown to Indiana that morning and, after spending the day in Indiana, I had to drive to Chicago.

I learned from that night and the exhaustion.

When we booked the trip, all of our accommodations were booked for the same room. We only had separate beds for 3 or 4 nights and the plan, even then, was to share a bed. I was grateful for the nights with two beds-when I had the ability to sleep in a separate bed from him. No matter where I slept, I could not sleep in the same room with him without some way to forget. So, I would idolize him and how much he cared about me while blaming myself during the day and drink every night to numb the pain and quiet the voice of blame. There literally was not a single night the rest of the trip that I didn't drink in order to be able to be in the same room with him. I went out with others to drink, I went to house parties to drink, I drank with anyone who would drink with me. I could not believe someone who cared about me did what he did. So, I blamed myself. I couldn't face the truth and I couldn't handle the guilt of feeling it was my fault. So, I would drink to forget the experience.

Some nights, I drank just enough to calm my nerves so I could sleep. But, other nights, I drank myself to the edge of oblivion. Most nights I could walk back to the hotel or ride with someone else we were visiting. One of the nights, he had to drive my car back to where we were staying because I had too much to drink. I could not face my waking hours and I could not sleep without trying to forget. Sadly, later on, he told others "If I assaulted him, would I have driven his car for him and helped him into bed when he was drunk?"

Almost every time the experience came up, I blamed myself because, he couldn't have done anything wrong. "He cares about me" I would say. And, then I would drink away my self-blame. I should have done a lot of things differently. But, we all know of people who stay in unhealthy relationships because they're convinced the other person cares about them. And, that's why I continued on a cross-country trip with the man who sexually assaulted me. I thought he cared. I thought it was my fault.


"The real healing was achieved when I started to sincerely believe I’m not responsible for what happened to me."  

--Keith, survivor
--https://www.rainn.org/survivor-stories