Raped by David Beckley

David and I had planned on making pasta for dinner that night, it was a cold November night out and I was excited to spend time with him, to cuddle up and laugh and have a good evening. We were both in the kitchen, David was drinking, he started saying mean things to me and calling me names. When he drinks, I never know when that will happen, but, it is always sure to happen at some point. I attempted to calm him down, to talk to him, but that made no difference. I was a bitch, I was a miserable person, I sucked, I was a horrible person, on and on and on it went as he paced from the kitchen to the couch drinking and insulting me. I finally went into the bedroom and then to take a bath, just to try and get away from him. After my bath, I went back into the bedroom and laid on the bed. A short time later David came into the bedroom and crawled on top of me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and he was still saying terrible things to me, he pinned my hands down on the bed and took my pants off. I told him that I did not want to have sex, but, he forced himself inside of me. He was rough with me, he just kept saying terrible things to me, calling me names- cunt, bitch, slut, etc. I told him to stop, I tried to get him off of me, but I couldn’t. He just kept having sex with me. I was crying and struggling to get him off of me. He didn’t care. He didn’t stop. He was so intoxicated that he seemed to not even be there. Like he was in a different world.

After it happened, I went back into the bathroom and took another bath. I couldn’t believe what he had done to me, I did not know what to do. Was it rape? We were dating. I did not know. I thought about calling the cops, but, I didn’t and I told myself it was okay. I sat in the bath for a long time. I was hoping he would fall asleep because I did not want to talk to him. I was hurting so much. I was crushed. Should I report him? Is it a crime? What just happened? He was drunk, does it matter? I did not want to get him into criminal trouble. I just sat in the bathtub and cried. I waited along while before going back into the bedroom, when I did he was passed out and snoring. I crawled into bed and laid awake all night, in the morning he got up and got ready for work, he did not say anything about what happened to me. He left for work as though nothing had happened. As though everything was okay.

I tried a few times to bring it up in the coming weeks and months to talk about it with him, but, he called me a liar and a slut and shut down the conversation quickly. I should have left him, but, I didn’t. I have been carrying this around, trying to convince myself that it was okay and that what I know happened must be wrong. That it wasn’t a big deal. It has been a long time since that night. David and I have gotten married and I have tried to put that evening behind me and go forward, because I loved him. But the truth is, I can’t forget it and though I have questioned whether it was rape or not, IT WAS. He raped me! Even if I am in a relationship with someone it does not give them the right to violate me and to blatantly ignore the facts about what they did. It is time to get this off of my chest and to try and let it go. David has the ability to be charming, but he is very dangerous and he has a major drinking problem. He assaulted his buddy last December and left him with permanent injuries, he claims he does not have a clear memory of that either. David believes it’s okay to treat people in despicable ways and that somehow it’s justified. I tried to justify it to myself, I couldn’t. I found that in trying to do so somehow it always lead me back to blaming myself and that’s completely misplaced, the entire blame is his and his alone.

Being silent about this has only served to destroy me more. I lost my inner security that night; I lost my confidence and strength and it has created such a terrible place for me inside of myself, a place of fear, anxiety, sadness and anger- it has robbed me of time, of happiness, of self worth, of safety. I still struggle with basic daily tasks. I feel broken. I feel alone. I feel so incredibly broken and that may never go away. What he did to me will never be undone and the only recourse I have is to tell my story, attempt to seek to process what happened and make sure he cannot hurt me again. David continues to lie about what he did and take no accountability, the worst part is, he truly doesn’t care about what he did or how it’s impacted my life.

DAVID Beckley

Today when I woke up and got ready for my day, I did not put on my wedding ring. I knew I was filing for a divorce today and so there was no need for my ring. I went to the courthouse by myself, as I filled out the paperwork my hands were shaking, my heart rate was high, my heart ached, my brain was roller coasting through every thought and memory related to him. One memory in particular stands out, last year when my sister, Martha, passed away; David refused to attend the funeral with me. He told me I was on my own, that it was a family matter and to leave him out of it. He called me a fucking psycho for expecting him to come to the funeral with me. I attended her funeral without him, the grief from losing her made me blind to how terrible and hurtful his behavior was. Even while I was home for her funeral he continued his terrible text messages and name calling. On the day I buried my sister he again called me a fucking psycho for trying to reach out to him via text. For the last 11 months I have been trying to make sense out of his cruelness towards me during that time. But, you see, it isn’t just that one bad time. David thrived on hurting me, making me feel worthless, unimportant, and alone. David routniely called me names such as a fucking cunt, bitch, worthless, pathetic, ugly, fat, lazy, and crazy. I began to feel as though I was all of those horrible things he said I was. I started to feel like a miserable person and bad person, like everything was my fault because that is what he told me. But, I am none of those things and I allowed him to rob me of my courage, strength and happiness. I let him hurt me because I was too scared to leave and because I rarely ever truly stood up for myself. I am the girl who can walk across the country by herself, hang from ledges in the Grand Canyon, help animals in need, make people laugh, but, for some reason I could not stand up to him. I could not see clearly enough to leave. I endured his constant threats of divorcing me, his punishment of ignoring me for weeks and sometimes months at a time if I did something wrong, his drinking and broken promises of getting sober. I let him intimidate me, abandon me, mock me, call me terrible names, break my possessions, threaten me, sexually and physical assault me. I let him take the best parts of who I was and I watched as he suffocated them. Dealing with grief from losing Martha has taken a huge toll on me physically and mentally and then adding the stress from our marriage on top of that became too much for me. I decided to take my life back, I decided to talk about what he did and how much he hurt me because I feel as though it is an important part of of the healing process. With all of that said, I can be a difficult, selfish, unfriendly person at times, and that somehow made me believe that I deserved his abuse, that if for example I just didn’t have a pissy tone with him that he wouldn’t have called me a cunt or ignored me for weeks. But that is flawed logic, because nothing I have done wrong has ever warranted any of his abuse. The problem is NOT me. Somewhere deep down I have always known that, but, admitting it and taking action is hard, it is hard to divorce your husband, it is hard to feel alone, to feel unsure. Despite that, today, I had to take action, I had to stand up and tell him that I was leaving him. That I will no longer allow his abuse to destroy who I am. That I was going to be my own rescue boat and sail far away. That I had a life to live, I just needed to remember who I was, to remember how strong I was and what adventures I had left. So I filed for divorce, took the paperwork to the Sheriff to have him served and drove home. I swear as I was driving home I saw Martha smile and give me a thumbs up. Before she passed she encouraged me to divorce him, but I didn’t listen. She always said, don’t let anyone treat you as though you are free salsa, because baby, you are guacamole 🙂 I finally took her wise advise.