My first marriage only
happened because I wasn’t a virgin. It was thirty years before I realized that
I had been raped. In 1969, I had just
arrived at Ohio University, 200 miles from my home and my crazy mother. My
first….what to call him? Not lover…because there was no love…my gynecological
surgical tool…was a cute Sophomore who played guitar in a tacky local band, and
the first of many tall, skinny ‘artists’ I was a sucker for. Bob invited me to
his dorm room. I’d like to give you more details, but as I walked in, he closed
the door, threw me down on the bed, pulled my clothes off…and raped me. About
as seductive as a truck wandering onto a railroad crossing and being hit by the
locomotive.
And ever the good host, Bob
stood up angry and threw me out of his room shrieking. “You didn’t enjoy it!” Bear in mind, he felt
that he had no hand, as it were, in my pleasure. He had not inquired as to whether
or not it was my first time. He felt that the very presence of his male member
should be all a woman needed for enjoyment. I had no idea what was going on and
it was a bit too painful to be “enjoyed”.
Granted, it was 1969, and
although the sexual revolution had begun on the East Coast, it was still 1927
in Ohio’s mind. So, being that I did not yet know what Feminism was. I simply left
his room, as he demanded, and went back to my dorm and never heard from him
again. And if you want to know why I do not mention blood…he left the condom in
and I didn’t know it was there till it fell out two weeks later. (Thankfully,
after I had returned to campus from Spring break. Try explaining THAT to your
Mother.)
So ergo, Eddie, my first
husband was the virgin when I went to Atlantic City for a summer job and met
him. Eddie was dating a female virgin at the time. (Of course, I didn’t find
that out till later) She was a nice Jewish girl who would have been perfect for
him, except he was more of a gentleman than my first…experience…and whenever
they tried to have sex, she stopped it at the first sign of pain. (Oh,
Sweetie…if only you had just gritted your teeth and let it happen, how
different all three of our lives would have been.) This had gone on for quite
some time by the time he met me and of course, I didn’t know about her when we started
dating. I was far from perfect for him but it was possible to have sex with me
because there was no barrier to the act. And being an idiot who knew nothing
about such things, there was also no pleasure in our sex, but at least he
didn’t get angry at me. Like I said, it was before Feminism.
However, I had to return to
Ohio from the summer job and Eddie and I parted ways, hopefully to never
to see him again. Well, he showed at Ohio University two months later. I
thought it meant love but I later found out, it was just about having sex. Not
great sex, but at least I didn’t stop him every time as she had continued to
do.
So why did I marry him? I was
shy and weak and anxious for what seemed to be love. After that marriage ended,
all of my romances, and my second marriage were also about sex. After I
divorced Eddie, I learned more about sex and had much fun with it, but never
met a man who didn’t think he could do better than me. Still, there is a happy
ending to this tale. I read an Ohio newspaper and there was the joyous news
that Bob had died of a heroin overdose. Karma.
It’s a bitch. And now, so am I.
