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I lived with my fiance at the time (he is now my ex). He was working 60-70 hours a week, which meant that I was home alone with his brother a lot. His brother told me that if I didn`t do what he wanted me to, that he would ruin my life. He did it three times in a two month period. The last time he tried, I decided that his threats were no worse than what he was doing so I locked myself up and said no. He acted on all his threats, just like he said he would.
Part of that included him telling my fiance and his family that we`d been having an affair. My fiance never really believed me, and one of his sisters never spoke to me again.
It was six months before it occurred to me that it might have been rape, and another eight before I began to feel like it was the right word for it.
January 2009 will mark two years since the first time it happened, and I am beginning to consider myself a survivor instead of a victim. I`m happy to say that I now have more good days than bad, and that it actually seems possible that I might someday call myself fully recovered.
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