When Rape Becomes Regret

This is a series in which I will dissect my rapists many "defenses". 
After much scrutiny, my rapist finally told his side of the story. He 
wrote two public blog posts. The first conveniently titled "When Regret 
Becomes Rape" and the second, an open letter directed toward me.
I will interject in bold.
Crossposted from www.theriverofjordan.com 
I like the name of your blog... it shows the reader that you think of
yourself as biblical. It kind of gives the reader of my blog a clear
picture of the time during our acquaintance.
Let's begin.

When Regret Becomes Rape

Update ~ I have followed up this article with a new one, in which I describe my experience and side of the story. You can find this here.

In response to the articles accusing me of having committed any act of sexual assault towards my girlfriend (at the time); in regards to the question “did I rape her?”, the answer is absolutely not.

Whenever someone comes across an article they read about you being abusive
and a sexual predator or a blog that I published regarding the rape and 
sexual assault, you link them to the two blogs that you wrote in defense 
of your actions. I was not your girlfriend, I didn't want you. I was your
object.

My partner and I were together for approximately 2 months before talk of intimacy came up. We talked openly about sex and sexuality in both an interpersonal and private way, as well as from a spiritual and energetic perspective.

You are telling this wrong. See, in the beginning of our travels you showed
 an interest in me. It was an interest that I didn't share. I told you I 
Wanted to be friends. Remember? I had only ever been with women... with no 
intention of ever being with a man... especially not you. We did NOT talk 
about sex openly. You did. You were obsessed with Egyptian sex rituals 
(real Aleister Crowley type shit- but I know you were enamored with his
work) and I turned down every advance that 
you threw at me. And for those of you who don't know Aleister for more 
than his Tarot deck or being an icon in the Esoteric world- look him up. 
He was into some pretty freaky shit, and that is an understatement.

 

I had asked if she wanted to have sex, and although she expressed hesitation at first, as our conversations progressed she did say “yes”. It was only then that we then proceeded. Our act of making love was just that; consensual and in the mindset of bringing our energies into sexual union. After this initial encounter, we were engaged in a healthy sexual relationship for many months.

This "act" that you speak of 
wasn't consensual. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't romantic. It was the worst 
day of my life that created endless anxiety attacks, suicide attempts and
hospitalizations. 
Expressing hesitation is a nice way to put it. Do you remember how I was
curled up in a ball? How you said you could heal me? How you were aroused 
at the sight of me helpless? How I said "no", how you persisted? 
How I was crying?
How you got off on it?

After nearly a year, our relationship began to deteriorate. I decided it was time to end our connection while there was still some friendship.

Yes, 9 months after you raped me, I proudly told you I was done. I ENDED
"it", I put a stop to the abuse that you inflicted on me. I told you that
I didn't want to see you ever again. And what did you do? As we know, you 
texted me, told me that you loved me and that you were getting on a plane
and landing in Salt Lake. Remember? I have that text.... lemme see if I can
find it here. Hold up.

Yes, there it is. Yeah, sorry to his audience... I was the one who ended
"it". He ignored the fact that I told him not to come out here, to Utah.
He did fly out to Utah. I did pickhim up from the airport. I pulled over 
to the side of road and told him to get out. He bought a $600 ticket to 
see the girl he obsessed over, raped and controlled. Expecting me to see
him and let him do it all again. And you tried. I was so mad at you. I 
didn't know what to do- no one has ever silenced me continually before.
Remember Jordan? In my childhood bedroom? 
The Rose Quartz crystal that you molested me with? Rose Quartz... because 
you thought it would "open my heart" make me love you? 
How I pushed you off of me? How I ran to the downstairs bathroom?
I remember it all. Humiliating. Disgusting.
And then the final straw.  
You were aroused and told me to "take your seed"? How many times do I need 
to make this clear? You told me that your cum would bring me to your 
level... as if you were a God. As if you were more evolved than others.
You told me that if I were to suck your dick and swallow, that you could 
bring me to deeper understanding. Would clear my depression... 
and essentially would allow you to control me yet again. THAT was how 
it ended. I refused and told you to leave. 
Never saw you again after that.

I will officially state that at no point during our relationship did she express that she felt as though our sex life was comparable to rape. Had she ever expressed any level of discomfort, I would have immediately stopped all physical contact. All of these claims came out years after our relationship ended, which causes me to speculate that the way I ended our relationship fuelled the resentment she is harbouring towards me.

Except this is not what happened, unfortunately for you. I know
you'd love to believe that. And it sure sounds nice for your online 
audience doesn't it? This world of spirituality that you built for them?
 What would they do if they realized their idol didn't walk the talk? 
What if they realized- he was a lot more sinister than they could ever
imagine? I said "no", I was crying. I hated you. I did what I had to do
to survive.
The claims DID NOT come out years after our acquaintance ended... I can 
tell you exactly when we had the conversation. It was August of 2013. Via
phone and Facebook. I still have the Facebook messages. I confronted you
again in September of 2013. But this will all come out in time.
Nice try though.

Taking the responsibility of creating these experiences opens the door to learning, growing, and healing from all this pain.

Taking the responsibility of creating these experiences opens the door
to learning, growing and ... actual, real and true healing. Yes. I agree.
But are you going to be honest? Have you taken responsibility? Do you have
a conscience? I've never been sure.

And so I pray we learn and we grow; I want to open a space of reconciliation and forgiveness so that we may take the actions that are in our highest alignment, and reverse the effects of what we’ve said or done when we were hurt, afraid, or experiencing regret.

I would love to find a space where I am free of carrying this burden that 
you imposed on me, and I have worked very hard on this. I do not regret 
anything. You did this. Not me. I was so angry for myself for so long. For
being the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen. For ever even traveling 
with you. For becoming the object of your obsession. But I am not angry 
anymore. Not at myself.

I can only hope that others find learning in my experience, as I continue to learn as well.

I do hope that you learn from this. I hope you can one day be honest, by 
yourself and for yourself. I hope that other women find it in themselves 
to fight for themselves. And I also hope that no one will have to face
a nightmare like this. 

I would like to thank everyone who continually supports me, who have not jumped to conclusions, nor made rash accusations, and weigh each matter against the feather of truth.

These are not rash accusations. Remember, there really aren't any more 
lies you can tell at this point, this is your word against your own word. 
There aren't two sides to every story, there is only the fact of what 
happened.

With all of my love,
Jordan David Duchnycz

I never wanted wanted your "love".
All I hope for now is for the truth to be heard. 
The truth is a cannibal unless you can come to accept it- and I have.
The only question is- can you?

Tori

Yoga and Healing from Sexual Assault

Okay, If you read this blog, you know that I was raped in 2012 by a friend that I was traveling with. You know that it took me almost 9 months to finally gain the balls to break away from the situation and 7 months after I left to confront him over email about the abuse. It took me 2 years to finally tell a trained psychologist and 4 1/2 years from the time that it happened to finally gain the courage to tell the police. 

During all of that time- I felt like a leaf in the wind. Or perhaps a more accurate description would be that I felt like a dead body being tossed between raging waves and a sharp rocky cliff in the ocean. Directionless yet again. Hell, I was so dissociated from my body and my life in every single way possible. I thought that there was no coming back from this ever. And that was all the aftermath.

During the 9 months I had been traveling with him, I had been dealing with such horrible dissociation, depersonalization  and derealization.  I couldn’t think and I never really spoke much. Since March of 2012 when it happened- I felt like I had no voice. I felt worse than dead. I felt like I was in a living nightmare and I couldn’t tell anyone. 

By the time I was able to finally put the pieces back together again, it was late September in Asheville, North Carolina. He had gone away to a meeting with his teacher Drunvalo Melkizidek. And I was finally alone with myself- free of him. So this is where yoga comes in.

Aright- I took my first yoga class in school 2007/2008. I was signed up for a full year. At first, I thought it was just an easy extracurricular activity to score an easy A on my report card. I remember going home from school after taking my first class completely convinced that this was the path I wanted to take in life, something in me was inspired. I wasn’t flexible, couldn’t touch my toes and I wasn’t strong- but I was driven. Driven and angsty. And I had for a long time placed that drive into an eating disorder, and getting high off of whatever. So- that was me at 17. That should paint the picture nicely. 

Cut back to 2012- During the time he was away, I’d wake up before the sun came up while the stars were still out and I would play Seane Corns “Body Prayer” video on repeat. I’d light a candle and let the movements do their work. I was so inspired by Seane at the time- and much later on I’d actually get the chance to study with her. 

Still in Asheville, I began practicing everyday- once at 6 am before work, and in the evening after work. (Thanks to my girl Holly for letting me steal her car to get to the studio everyday). I began to feel a little stronger and a little more disciplined. I began to feel that desire for this path again- finally some type of inspiration. I knew I just wanted to live the life of a yogini….. no shit, did I just say I wanted to live? Hmmm. I guess I did. 

I moved home. As some of you know from this blog- the last time I ever saw him was around Christmas time in 2012, and if you recall- it was here that he came to Utah, tried to manipulate me and pull me back into this abusive pattern yet again. I finally found the ground to tell him to leave and never come back. 

It was in January and February of 2013 that I went to Bikram classes twice a day, I got a job and began looking into various training programs around the State. By march I was signed up and attending as many classes as I could possibly handle. Sometimes 4-5 classes. I needed it to survive and eventually I came to survive out of a genuine love for my life again. 

I enrolled in the 1,000 hr training. April 1st to November 30th 2013. I spent every penny I was making on this training and was back living in my dads basement. 

When I wasn’t working- I spent all of my time at the studio. Pretty sure the owner joked that I was a fixture. During the first month at Centered City Yoga, I was introduced to the practice of Ashtanga. Mysore- It was hard, frustrating- infuriating sometimes- but it became my daily practice to this day. I was dedicated. 

My practice is the system of Ashtanga Yoga.  I have been practicing everyday- except moon days ever since.  


Yoga was the thing that allowed me to feel again, it gave me fire to make it through the hardest days of my life. It took me a long time to gain enough discipline to practice away from the Mysore room. Yoga became my meditation, my strength, my comfort, my grace- my saving grace- but most importantly yoga gave me ownership over my body again. 


I am currently an instructor based at Centered City Yoga in Salt Lake City, Utah.

So, who am I?

#4

My name is Tori. I was 21 when I was victim to rape and sexual assault.


This photo sums that year up well. It speaks to the death I felt. I felt dead. A skin-covered ghost. I felt owned after I was raped. I lost control of myself, he took that from me. No voice. Nothing left. Just emptiness and muffled rage turned to a serious state of depersonalization.

To the Attorney Generals office who debated my case for over a week and a half- who failed to take on my case despite the overwhelming evidence…to the men and women who read this blog and find that what happened was probably just regret…

Let me put it this way: Would you keep trying to get someone to have sex with you after she sets a clear boundary, who clearly states she doesn’t want you? Would you fuck a girl who says no countless times?  Would you undress her yourself destpite her saying no when she is frozen in fear? Would you fuck her after she is worn down in anxiety and fear, reluctantly saying okay through tears?  Would you fuck a girl who had said no countless times and then was crying in panic the entire time? Would you use the words “lust, power and greed” as a reason for doing what you did, while in the same conversation moments before say it was out of love and lust for the most ‘beautiful girl you’d ever seen’?

Morally, would you feel OK with that? Would you be able to get off on that? Would it feel good for you to overpower someone in that way?

Did you answer no? The idea of forcing someone to have sex with you against their will would presumably make you sick, most likely it is inconceivable. Congratulations, that is a normal response. It isn’t normal to be able to follow through with something like that. To disregard every sign that somebody is uncomfortable and afraid- to force sex. And if you answered yes, you better check yourself. Because what I just described is rape.

I am coming out for the first time publicly with my name and face attached as the victim of this act. This act that should be considered criminal within the eyes of the Law. I was so ashamed for so long.

The weight has been unbearable. Deadly almost. But maybe the hardest part is over. After all, some secrets are painful. Some types of silence can kill you.

The events that took place in 2012 took everything from me for a long time. Sometimes it takes a while for the victim to really become the survivor.


It took me a long time to be able to look through old pictures with out falling into some type of mind bending trip sending me into suicidal ideation. The hollowness in my eyes. The exhaustion of a smile that normally comes easily and naturally. The confusion in my head. I remember that feeling in my bones. He thought I was beautiful… so after I left, I did everything I could to change myself entirely. I didn’t want to be the person he came to obsess over anymore. I still feel like he owns that person sometimes. Part of me feels like I will never be able to own that person. It’s a rough road coming back. But I feel like I finally have my spark back.


Thanks to other survivors who have been so strong as to come forward, I’m starting to feel like I can too. It’s important for me to take my voice back. I’m not the person he thought I was.


Im 27 now and I’m finally feeling like I can fight back a little harder, like I can take on the world again like I did before all of this. Bravery begets bravery. I am not weak.

Instagram: @Username_tori

My Perpetrators favorite Teachings

#3

My rapist had these ‘New Age’ teachings and catch phrases that the rest of the world might find nice and quaint, but I see as down right dangerous. For the record, I do not believe that he actually believes this bullshit. He found something that ‘works’.  He manipulates people, and it is ALL he knows how to do. He stumbled on this type of belief system that literally TEACHES sociopathic ‘principles’ and dissociation to the suggestible, vulnerable or open-minded. This believe system is PERFECT for Narcissists because they can control those that are searching for answers, with out the victims actually realizing what is going on. If a victim DOES see what is going on and tries to stop it, this mindset always offers a way to ‘justify’ both what the perpetrator did, and a reason as to why it was ‘your fault’. I think its something this perpetrator had to force himself to ‘believe’, if you will, in order to justify the lack of conscience or emotion.

Coercive Persuasion (much like hypnotism, only with more force) is a tool that con-artists will use against everyone and anyone. To these types of people every relationship, every move is simply a transaction to gain control and get what they want from others. From the space of an “authority figure” this is a dangerous tool that can rip apart the minds, bodies and souls of the victim and it can be seen running RAMPANT in the ‘New Age’ and ‘Spiritual communities’. The following are but a few cheap phrases that my rapist has built his empire of millions of followers on top of and what this REALLY mean to one of his rape victims.

 

  • “You can have, do or be ANYTHING you want.” 

Anything? ANYTHING? You can’t HAVE someone that doesn’t want you! Having been Raped and Sexually abused by this person, I find it sickening that other people out there use this phrase. I didn’t want you. But you felt entitled to me regardless of what I wanted. I said “NO” loud and clear but that wasn’t good enough. You were obsessed with me and you were going to do anything it took to have me. You stole me, and you won’t walk away from this so easily. I became lost when you said that I create my own reality… I became godless when you told me you were god and then you raped me.

  • “What you Resist Persists.”

A perfect phrase for a Rapist. I told him “NO” over and over again. He kept getting more and more persistent. He kept advancing despite my obvious protest. They call it Tonic Immobility when you freeze during this type of flight or fight scenario. My rapist wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was going to do whatever it took. I did everything I could until I couldn’t fight it off anymore. I RESISTED, I fought, I said “NO”, I was crying and yet he wouldn’t fucking stop. I HATE this phrase. There is NOTHING true about it. If you feel the need to resist something- that feeling is THERE for a REASON and please don’t allow ANYONE to take your internal compass away from you. These “teachers” just attempt to lead people into a mindset where they are completely SUGGESTIBLE.

  •  “Love is ALL there is.”

This phrase is disturbing because it can warp the perception of what love is for the Victim. When I was recording our final confrontation (unbeknownst to you), you told me “Everything I did, I did out of Love” and to this day, this phrase is slimy and degrading as it ever was. I DIDN’T WANT YOU. I hated you. You are despicable. You are the most deranged person I have ever met in my life. What you did to me was not love. It was greedy and spineless. RAPE IS NOT LOVE you ugly son of a bitch. “Love is all there is?”  Tell me that again once the world knows what you are.

 

And to my rapist:

Not that you care, dick- but I was sure of myself and confident from a young age. I was sure of myself when I was 21 and decided to travel with 3 people that I had never met. I loved meeting new people and I wanted adventure. I was sure of myself when I told you that I wanted to be friends when you wanted something more. I was sure of myself when I didn’t want to be touched. I was sure of myself I said no when you tried to get my into the shower with you.  AND i was fucking confident in the fact I never wanted to have sex with you…that I never wanted you inside of me. You ripped me apart. And yet there you are trying to “save the world” when time fucking STOPPED for me. My life nearly ended. If you are so keen on “heaven on earth”  “honesty” “truth” “connection” “love” “living in light”, “ascending” and “higher vibrations”- I would take a burning fiery Hell any day. I might appear like the goddamned Devil to some of your followers. I’m a black hole and I don’t care. Because I know the truth. You are a liar. Your empire of delusion. Your fake tears, your pitiful gimmick of “youth” and “innocence”, your god-complex… You are a living lie and you will NEVER silence me again. Is this too “dense” for you? The truth? Get a fucking backbone, bitch. This is what reality feels like.

In the words of Ida Maria: “The Universe is gonna getcha… Bad Karma’s a Bitch”

Sue Me, I Waited To Report.

#2

Sue me, I waited to tell anyone about my sexual assault for years- waited even longer to report it. I really shouldn’t have to explain this, so let me make this quick.

Trigger warning: this article contains details of sexual assault.

 “You are fucked up, you need to go get help you’re gonna scream rape with someone that you lived with for a year five years after? I’m not buying it, you need to take responsibility for your own actions. Do not message me again until you go get help. You need to leave everyone alone go deal with your own shit if you thought he raped you you should have had him arrested the day it happened, you don’t come back five years later talking shit.” -from a real charmer. Ouch.

Thanks for inspiring this entry though.

The above quote was thrown at me this morning. This is what survivors face when they speak out, especially when breaking it to people that knows survivor and perpetrator. Nice right? I mean, sure if you’re friends with the guy, or you are a colleague of his- this is a MAJOR conflict of interest. Probably hard to hear. Hell, imagine how it’s been for me all this time. With that said:

There are so many reasons why a victim of sexual assault might not ever speak out. Equally, there are many reasons as to why a victim of sexual assault might wait days, months or even years to report a sexual assault. Victims face being demonized by people who support the perpetrator. Victims might face loosing relationships if they knew and had mutual friends with the perpetrator. Victims face having their sanity called into question. If the perpetrator has a large fan base, this can be particularly intimidating. Rapists rarely even receive the punishment that they deserve. I shouldn’t have to explain this.

It took me 4 1/2 years to report. My perpetrator has a fan base of millions around  the world. I traveled with this person for almost 9 months with a couple other people. Starting in February. None of us knew each other well. All of us thought it would be an adventure. I was raped with in one month of meeting this guy in person. I don’t need to make excuses. I never told the others what happened. I never told anyone we met on the road. I was numb after it happened but no one knew why. Whats worse is that he continued having sex with me. I already told him “no” the first time. He obviously wasn’t the person I had agreed to go traveling with. What would happen if I didn’t comply further? I shouldn’t have to explain this.

In the beginning- the first day that I met him in person- I was very particular to tell him that I just wanted to be friends, I did not want to be in a relationship. I turned down every single advance he threw at me. I was confident and sure of myself. He caught me off guard when he refused to take “no” for an answer that particular March day. I wasn’t the same after that. Everything was blurry. It was like I was hypnotized by his violation and manipulation. I resented him. I hated him. I wanted to hurt him but I took it out on myself silently instead. He told everyone we were in a relationship and I just stayed fucking silent. I hated him. I hated him. He became more and more controlling of me over the coarse of our travels. He started thinking he was a reincarnation of Jesus, that he was god.

By December I got away. I went home. I told him that I wasn’t going to do this anymore. He sent me a text message a couple of weeks later saying he loved me and that he was going to be boarding a plane to come and see me the next morning. First of all, who does that? Drop in unannounced to see someone that is trying to stay as far from you as possible, by plane no less? I told him not to waste his money, not to come. There was no way in hell I’d want to see him ever again. The next day, he asked me to pick him up at the airport. He actually flew out here against my demand not to, and expected me to pick him up. So, I asked a friend to come with me, I met him at the terminal and drove to a random neighborhood downtown. I told him to get out. I left him on the side of the fucking road. He ended up staying with a mutual friend who was a business partner of his. He still managed to manipulate his way into staying with me and he attempted to sexually assault me further. He told me to “take his seed” (unbelievable, right?) because it would help me to see things more clearly (Yes, he wanted me to suck his dick and swallow to help me gain enlightenment). I told him to leave. I never saw him after that. And that “phrase” is one that still makes me wretch to this day- it is burned into the back of my eyeballs and crawls around through my ears and inside my brain like fucking maggots. I could scream.

img_5143-1.jpg
So yeah, between the thousands of followers (some REALLY intense), all of his manic ideas, I wasn’t about to tell anyone. I was paranoid that he was more powerful than what he’d already proved. I was paranoid he’d come out to my state again and do something even worse. He already proved that he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer first with being in a relationship with me, then with sex and finally by “coming to visit” and flying across states just to see me, when I made it clear I didn’t want to see him. So yeah, I think I had a right to stay quiet until I felt strong enough to speak out, and again, I shouldn’t have to explain this.

Last year he came back to my state in the middle of February expecting to see me. He texted me on Valentines day telling me I was “loved”, asking if he could call me. I ignored it. But physically I was sick. I knew that he knew where my dad lived, so I called my dad and warned him that this person might show up to try and find me. I was disgusted, angry and paranoid.

Worse yet, I began hearing rumors over the years  that there were other women he’d sexually assaulted that year. That was my worst fear. So yes, I finally spoke up. It’s easier to speak up knowing that someone else has. It makes you feel seen. Makes you feel heard. I want to gain closure by hearing what he did to them and knowing that I did something so that he might never be able to do something to someone else against their will ever again. So, no- I am not “choosing to escalate an incident that happened 5 years ago”. I just finally am not afraid to speak out anymore. I shouldn’t have to explain this.

I still haven’t told my close family and friends. And yet 70 of my friends and family members on Facebook follow his work. Some occasionally share his work. From celebrities, my favorite musicians, right down to my own friends and my aunt. Seeing that on my timeline never ceases to send me into some type of shock. It’s an exhausting, involved and disgusting story to tell, and it takes every ounce of me to hold it in just like it takes every ounce of me to share it.

I felt voiceless against him for a long time. To those of you that knew me back then, that know and support him- sue me for taking my time to speak up. When you have an actual conscience, and you aren’t a sociopath, it can be incredibly stressful to know that you could potentially ruin someones life by reporting what they did to you. This vile dark secret that perpetrator and victim both share- that they imposed on you. I didn’t ask for this. It can be taxing when you were both violated by this person and then that you hold this dirtiest secret- he is a sex offender. It is confusing. It can be incredibly hard to tell people what happened. Hell, I was even worried that people knowing this little secret of his might drive him to suicide and that it would be my fault; yet his actions drove me to self injury, PTSD, suicidal idealization, boozing, recklessness, late night emergency room stays and therapy- he didn’t think about how it would turn my life inside out, he just wanted to get off. When I mentioned this worry to the Detective, he kindly reminded me that nothing like that should hold me back- after all, it wasn’t my fault he raped me.  Shouldn’t have to explain this.

The shame of what happened takes a while to become empowerment. And empowerment itself is shaky. On top of that, the justice system is  knowingly intimidating. So don’t judge a victim for stepping up to the plate on their own time. You have no idea what they’ve been through. One more time for the people in the back- I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS. There is no excuse. I did nothing wrong and I am confident in that.

So if this is a conflict of interest to you whether you are a friend of his, possibly a colleague or maybe you ARE him (sup, fucker)… I have 3 words for you: DON’T RAPE PEOPLE. It will make everyone’s lives easier. Maybe you won’t tear everyone’s lives apart that way. When will the perpetrator have to explain himself? When?

READ ME: I was Raped

#1

Trigger Warning: contains details of sexual assault.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer… I was raped in 2012. I was 21.

So many people told me not to go to the police and to handle this another way. I didn’t want the attention that comes from a case like this. But something kept telling me to do more. That what happened to me was bigger than me. I was just getting angry and more and more bitter by not doing anything about what happened. I tried everything I could to stop thinking about it. I cut off everyone that knew him. I didn’t talk to anyone about it.

 In July of 2016, after 4 ½ years of struggling with what to do, I contacted the Police Department in the City that this took place.
7 months after the last time I saw him, I contacted my rapist via Facebook messages about the incidents that took place. He said a lot in these messages- this would later become my first substantial piece of evidence.
My case had enough evidence to be assigned to an Advocate and a Detective. These two became two of the most important people in my life. I was interviewed for almost 9 hours about that year. The Detective told me that in order to get this case prosecuted, I would have to slowly work towards contacting my perpetrator. I would have to confront him again about the incident.
 I did. I was scared and it made me feel like I was losing myself a lot of the time- but I wanted to take this case as far as I possibly could. I wanted to be heard, and in case there were other victims I wanted to speak out.
 The Detective and I planned carefully. I sent the Detective every single correspondence as soon as it was over for the day. I started off by saying that I wanted to work out the past and put it behind me. I messaged him for 2 months before I made the pretext calls. The plan worked.
 He admitted to everything last thing- every single detail. I walked him through that day and what happened. He admitted to everything. I said no to his advances from the start. I was traveling with him and told him I wanted to just be friends. I said no to everything, and that particular day; 1 month into our travels. I was exhausted and depressed. I wanted to be alone, so I shut myself in this room. He came in and got on the bed. He said he wanted to “heal” me. I didn’t believe in that new age bullshit. He told me that sex heals. He asked me if I would have sex with him.
I said “no”. I didn’t want him to touch me. I wanted to be alone. Anyone in their right mind would see that I was clearly closed off and not wanting to be around anyone- let alone have sex with a person I didn’t know very well.
 He wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. He kept asking. Over and over again. I was afraid. My anxiety and fear wouldn’t let me move. I was frozen. I was becoming more and more confused every time he asked, or every time he made an advance that I clearly didn’t want. He turned me to face him. He uncrossed my arms from my chest. He asked me again and again. I said no each time. He removed my clothes, and his and he asked again. I said no. But he kept asking. Finally, after what seemed like hours of this… I was crying, I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t cooperate and I said “okay.” After all, I didn’t know him very well and he was being very very persistent. I didn’t want to consent. I said “no” so many times.  I gave up fighting with him to stop. He wasn’t going to stop. He knew what he wanted and he was going to get it whether I liked it or not. I was crying the entire time. I was lifeless. He didn’t stop. He didn’t care. He finished.
During these calls, I asked him why he did it. Why he kept asking, why he didn’t stop when he knew I was crying, why did he have sex with me despite me saying “no” over and over again? He responded with 3 words that I will never forget- “Power… Lust…Greed…”
After the conversation led to my final questions “how do you think this made me feel?” He responded “Traumatized.” After asking “why do you think I felt traumatized?” He responded, verbatim, “you were raped.”
  He admitted to all of this between 2 recordings. On top of all of this overwhelming evidence, his stories between the two phone calls were very inconsistent. We were absolutely certain at this point that we had a winning case against him. Everyone agreed that it sounded like a complete confession. His confession couldn’t be any more clear. The detective wrote up the warrants that weekend and was ready to book the flight as soon as I figured out exactly where he would be and once the Grand Jury made a decision.  The DA would have an answer that week.
My case wouldn’t be prosecuted because I said “okay” in the end- because ‘no’ was not the answer he was looking for… because “No” was not the right answer? One word. One quiet tear-filled, whispered word.   I was overwhelmed… I AM overwhelmed.  All of us are so frustrated by this verdict. Oregon State laws surrounding consent still work to protect the rapist and not the victim. So, despite such clear evidence- by law nothing could be done. I slept in the ER the night that I was told the case wasn’t going to a Grand Jury.
So now, I continue to fight. I told the Detective I wasn’t giving up. The investigation might be over, but I still have every piece of evidence. I want to work to get a Law passed stating that Coercion is in fact a form of rape in the State of Oregon. Coerced sex should be seen as Rape everywhere as far as I am concerned. We are outraged, but we are absolutely not giving up.
Eventually, I would like for my case to be looked at again by the District Attorneys office and have this case officially sent to a Grand Jury. I still hope for him to be prosecuted and charged.
I said that I wanted to take this case as far as it will go, and I meant it. I never thought of myself as an activist. I never liked to over think things. But this is something that I have to do now. I want to be an advocate for all survivors of sexual assault. ‘No’ means ‘No’- the first time.
This is the first of many posts to come. I refuse to stay quiet any longer.
 I hope this reaches someone who needs it- Please contact Oregon State Representatives.
 I encourage you to share this blogpost across your social media pages.
I am going to need all the help that I can get in getting this case to move forward.
 Make noise, make change.
More to come.
 I encourage you to email me with your resources, stories, questions or support. Your support is greatly appreciated, so please reach out.  😘
Please email me at: emailthegohst@gmail.com
#endrapeculture #stoptrivializingrape
#noexcuses #nomeansno #womenforwomen