I was re-watching ‘The Unit’ and an episode came up that just reminded me of what had happened to me last year. Firstly, The Unit is a great show, unfortunately it got axed but I hadn’t watched it in a couple of years. My perception of the episode a couple years back was completely innocent. But now… it’s just a horrible reminder of what happened a few weeks after my birthday.
Not to leave you all in suspense, but the story, no, the recount I’m about to tell will be given in more detail another time. For now, I just wanted to get it off my chest. I feel like I’ve sort of accepted it, well I accepted it a long time ago but it makes senses now to finally tell someone.
I was on campus at our main library with 3 of my closest friends. It was just the start of the second semester last year and we thought we would be good and start our revisions early. We planned to study til late that day and I really wish I didn’t decide to lie to them and ‘quickly pop out to go meet a friend’. Me and Mr happinesseveryday from sugardaddymeet.com finally set a date to meet and he told me he could only see me in the city at 6pm. That later changed to 7pm and waiting around for his call at central turned it into 7:30pm.
I was being careful, yes it was getting late but the city is a busy place at that hour too. But when we met, he was sitting in his FWD at the carpark and it was freezing. I had a see through top and a pencil skirt on. A threw on my thin grey cardi but that still wasn’t enough. After much banter he convinced me to stay warm in his car. More banter and he convinced me he’d drive us to a coffee shop he knew. I was still naive and didn’t realise where we were going until he pulled into the drive way of a motel on Parramatta Rd.
By then I had started to try and leave. I didn’t know exactly where I was or how I was going to get back but I was scared. He passively persuaded me into his room and before I knew it he wanted my clothes off. We sat there for what felt like hours but was only half an hour going back and forth. I would say ‘no’ but he would go on and on trying to convince me why it makes sense to fuck an obese, 50 year old.
Let’s just say, he couldn’t convince me to screw him willingly, so he screwed me anyway.
I didn’t cry after, I teared up during, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry the next day, or a month later. I have yet to waste my tears over it and I have yet to tell anyone. But I did feel disgusting, violated, dirty and unworthy. I blamed myself a lot, I still think if i had just walked away from the very start then I wouldn’t have felt so horrible.
I want others who have gone through the same to speak to someone. Anyone. I’m not strong enough to tell someone personally but I feel my blog is a good start. I don’t want pity from anyone who reads this, I just wanted to get it off my chest for the first time.
Sx
a sugarbaby's diary 