My trauma of being a woman. What I wish he’d done differently.

Hello. I am a 36 year old woman, and I am a trauma survivor. This is my story. <br><br>I am a short, plus-sized woman with curly black hair. I don’t look like most depictions of a ‘trauma survivor’ and I don’t act like it either. I am wacky and sarcastic, bubbly and enthusiastic. I am fun, and my friends laugh with me a lot. But I am afraid of being kissed.<br><br>I am scared of it because in the first half of 2019, my best friend constantly kissed me. Or tried to. We’d been friends for about three years at that point, and we’d known each other through school. See, he’d always wanted to be my boyfriend. To get married. See, he thought I was perfect. He thought that I was the woman for him. And I didn’t.<br><br>For all of 2018, he would hug me and kiss me. He would sit in my lap and kiss me and tell me he loved me. I’d tell him to stop, that I didn’t want a relationship, and he’d say okay. But he’d keep on doing it. He’d say that he knew I loved him too, but I didn’t want to admit it out loud. He’d say that he saw how I looked at him, that I wanted him.<br><br>I didn’t. I didn’t want him. And I’d tell him that, over and over again. I’d tell him that I didn’t feel the same way, that I just wanted to be friends. But he’d keep on trying to kiss me, to hug me and cuddle me. He’d tell me that he was just being friendly, but I was freaked out. He’d move my clothes out of the way so he could kiss my neck. He’d sit on top of me and kiss my face. He’d tell me that I looked beautiful when I was scared, and that he wanted me to be his girlfriend.<br><br>In June of 2019, we went to an anime convention. I loved the idea of cons, but I was deeply afraid of them as well. I have social anxiety, and my voice runs out quickly at cons. He’d been pressuring me to go with him, even though I was scared. I didn’t have enough money to go alone, and I didn’t want to spend the time alone at home either.<br><br>A week before the con, he asked me to be in a couple’s cosplay. I had none of the materials, because we were going to do a completely random theme, and we’d need to make it from scratch. I told him no, that I didn’t have time for it. He said that I was being too prideful, that I was hurting his feelings. He said that I owed it to him, because he’d been trying to get me to be more social for years.<br><br>He wheedled and guilted me, until I agreed to do it. And that’s when he started making comments about my appearance. He asked me if I was going to lose weight; if I was going to put on makeup and fix my hair. He told me that I wouldn’t look beautiful enough to go with him otherwise.<br><br>I didn’t, because I didn’t want to. I was freaked out, but he took me to the con anyway. And there, in the middle of all those people, all the noise and trauma of it, he wouldn’t let me alone. He followed me around, kissed me in front of people, tried to hug me or cuddle me or hold my hand. I wanted to go home. I didn’t want any of it, and I was crying because I was so scared. I just wanted to go home.<br><br>This went on for three days, until we went home. And that’s when he tried to rape me. He’d never tried before, but he was always pushing. But this time, he tried to push my clothes aside. He tried to kiss me and put his hands on my body. But he didn’t succeed. I kneed him in the balls and ran away.<br><br>I hid. I didn’t go to school, I didn’t see my friends. I was so scared. <br><br>I don’t like being kissed now. I don’t like being touched, because I don’t trust people. I don’t trust men. What I wish he’d done differently is that I wish he’d respected me. I wish he’d listened to me when I said no. I wish he’d left me alone.