Tragic Crush Tales #2

When I was a freshman in high school there was this guy who was absolutely gorgeous. G was this sexy chocolate dude, who seemed sweet, his family was religious, and he had an amazing voice. We were in choir together. We didn’t talk TOO much, but he was always nice when we did. He was very easy going and I have always been very shy. Somehow my best friend got his number and we would call him often, giggling like 14 year old girls usually do when you talk to the cute boy in class. One day after school I decided to stay behind with my best friend and roam around our new school. We watched the boys practice basketball, bugged a few of our favorite teachers, and we came across G roaming the halls. As soon as we saw him my friend pushed me towards him and bolted to “give us time alone to flirt” cause she knew I wouldn’t do without a metaphorical, or in this case, physical push. We only chatted for a few minutes and before I knew it he pulled me off into this little nook and pushed me up against the wall. He clawed at me, trying to lift up my shirt. I tried to pull away from him and told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. Finally by the time I said “No” for the 5th time and kept struggling, he let me go.

Sidebar: To people who think when girls are assaulted or raped it must be because they were dressed provocatively, I was in a big baggy Tweety Bird shirt with those huge skater men’s jeans that were popular in the late 90s/early 2000s which were written and drawn all over by me and my friends. No cleavage or skin tight pants. I was in men’s clothes. So stop it with the victim blaming that it must be how the girl is dressed. K? K.

Well once I got away from him I ran to find my friend and told her we had to leave immediately. On the walk home I told her what had happened and that I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t want people to make a big deal of it. The next day I told a few friends of mine and my guy best friend who wanted to kill him by that point. One friend I told looked at me strange when I told her and she confessed she had the same run in with him too. Once she found out he did it to someone else she pressured me that we both had to tell someone before it happened again. It took me a few days to tell my parents and when I did my dad showed up at the school mad as hell. There was a meeting between him, both our parents, and me, where his mom, in so many words, said I was asking for it because I liked him and called him a few times. After the meeting was over his dad pulled my dad aside to apologize and to tell him that he completely believed everything I said. I thought it was funny that his dad understood the pain I was going through, but his mom, another woman, wanted to point the finger. As time went on he showed up to school less and less. After I told my story I think one or two other girls came forward which ruined his image as a good christian boy, I guess. I’m not sure if he ever graduated or dropped out altogether because by sophomore year he was never seen again.
Years later I realized that possibly this one person had an effect on my dating life for years. After this happened I stopped dating black men altogether. I don’t know if it was because of this, but I do know for a fact that’s when it stopped. I even stopped finding black men attractive at that point. I had to sit back and change my whole thought process when it came to men and dating. Without even knowing I let his actions influence me and I knew I couldn’t do it any longer. I don’t know what he’s doing with his life now and don’t care. Last I saw him was about 6 years later. There was a competition at our local mall for American Idol and I went to try out. I saw him there scoping out the high school girls at the mall. Once a perv, always a perv, I guess.

-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2014(c)

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