“How laaaame!” one of my Bible study girls laments as the other eight howl with laughter.
We’ve just finished reading a section in His Revolutionary Love about setting boundaries in dating relationships and recognizing warning signs that a guy has less-than-honorable intentions.
My heart sinks.
Yes, it’s final exam week and everyone is tired.
Yes, most of my girls are seniors who just want to graduate and get out.
Yes, what I want to do was silently pray for them, finish reading, and serve dessert.
Tell them your story.
My heart skips a beat.
Now?
Tell them your story.
But they’ll laugh.
Tell them your story.
They’ll think I’m old-fashioned and laaaame!
Tell them…
“This reminds me…” I begin.
Nine girls hush.
“…of my junior year of high school.”
All listen with rapt attention. Three lean forward and rest their chins on their hands.
For better or for worse, I’m committed to Mrs. G’s Story Hour.
Meeting the Guy
I met this guy–we’ll call him Stan–at a weekend ASB leadership conference my junior year of high school. I was the Religious Vice-President of my Christian academy, and he was the President of his.
I was sixteen and thoroughly accustomed to guys overlooking me. I wasn’t gorgeous or shapely or funny. Incapable of small talk or flirting, I was used to guys making a beeline past me to my best friend, Lisa, who was everything I was not.
But on the first evening, it was clear that Stan had noticed me. The next day, he boldly sought me out, leaving his school group to join mine. I was first flattered, soon smitten. By the last day, we’d become inseparable and even skipped the final dedication meeting to talk about “us.”
Stan lived almost four hundred miles away, but his aunt lived in my hometown. He assured me he’d write and call regularly and drive his Thunderbird (!) down to visit me.
Dating the Guy
For the next few months, I lived on Cloud 9. I was no longer, “Oh, her…” I was Stan’s girlfriend! He’d noticed me, he’d wanted me, he’d pursued me. Being in love felt better than I’d ever imagined.
Stan wrote daily, called several times a week, and brought me expensive gifts when he visited. He was tall, dark, and handsome. More importantly, he loved listening to me, hanging out with me, holding me…
A Close Call
One day, about six months into our relationship, Stan was down for a visit, and we stopped by his aunt’s house to visit family but found the house empty.
It’s hard to tell what happened next.
I know it sounds idiotic to say, “The next thing I knew, we were in one of the bedrooms, on a bed, and Stan was on top of me,” but that’s the simple truth.
I don’t recall how we got there. I wasn’t forced, but I also didn’t choose. Suddenly, I was there, paralyzed by panic.
What I did not know then is that the anorexia I’d struggled with for three years caused me to dissociate from my body. I lay on the bed recognizing what Stan wanted from me, knowing I did not want to give it to him, and realizing I was incapable of stopping him. It was a surreal, almost out-of-body experience in which I could neither speak nor move.
So this is what they mean by date rape I thought as Stan reached for my blouse.
(To be concluded next Wednesday)
Your Turn:
If you’re a mom, what discussions have you had with your daughter(s) about boundaries in dating?
If you’re a teen, who do you rely on for advice and guidance when it comes to dating relationships?
What part of my story do you identify with thus far?
#DateRape #Dating
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