My Own Rape Shows How Much We Get Wrong About These Attacks

My Own Rape Shows How Much We Get Wrong About These Attacks

[WARNING: This essay describes sexually explicit situations.]

“I made these for us to celebrate,” he said, sauntering out of the kitchen with two shot glasses full of a red concoction.

“Celebrate what?” I asked.

He cocked his head to one side. “You’re here!” he cheered. “You finally made it.”

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