I've been married for 8 years, I've been with my husband for 10-years and now looking back the rapes have been happening for 9-years. When we met I was 19-years-old and he was 25yrs, and he loved me like noone had before. He was proud to hold my hand everywhere we went, and he wanted to marry me immediately. I was in and out of a relationship with my high school sweetheart and when we finally broke it off I ran to the older boy who had treated me so good. I think the rapes started because in the beginning of he and I sex was the best part of our relationship. Shortly after we moved in together I was pregnant and felt differently about sex. For a year he complained about not getting enough, and then after I had our child it was literally weeks until the rapes began. It always starts with drinking, I feel that he waits to until I've been drinking in order to blame it on the drinking. And although the drinking has never been to the point of blackout I always have been told that I had alot to drink and it was my behavior that started it all.

The degree of violence has increased over the years. I have been forced both vaginally and (the other way). Just recently we returned from a Halloween Party and he was upset I danced, and again I had been drinking (as everyone-all adults had) and because this has been happening for so long when we got home (to an empty house) I knew exactly what was going to happen whether I consented or not. So I tried to come to an agreement with him, if I let it happen, and didn't fight one bit he would not force himself (the other way). He agreed, however this time he made me say during his stint that he was better than I was, I was a piece of shit and he made it last for what seemed like an eternity, i get sick thinking about it. He gave me hickies dark and obvious if i wear my hair up. After it was done I panicked, and I ran for the door after I dressed. He stopped me tore the phone off the wall, and held me until I was too tired to fight.

I said I was done, and that he would pay for what he did to me (I was going to tell someone) and he got nervous and left. I went next door to a couple older, but she was abused. And I slept there until the next morning. He came back during the night and the next day we went about our business at a flag footbal tournament. He felt really bad a kissed my butt the entire day. He made jokes with his friends about how I danced with a nerd dressed like Napoleon Dynomite. He told everyone I looked bad because I was hung over and we'd had "one of those nights." I was really poofy eyed. My kids have no idea and I'm extremelly thankful. I can't sleep still, and I feel everyone knows when they look at me. This time is different for some reason, and I can't figure why. It haunts me every minute. THank you for letting me tell someone.