The media portrays rape as a violent meeting between two strangers where, often times, a man takes advantage of a woman when she least expects it.

Sadly, that is not always the case.

Legally, rape is defined by use of force, a lack of consent and penetration. This can happen in a dark alley with a stranger or in a bed with your significant other. You may not agree, but I am going to tell you a short story. By the end, I hope you will believe me.

When I was a senior in high school I began working at a local chain restaurant. It did not take me long to realize how much I loved my job.

I have always been mature for my age. My friends used to joke, “You’ve been an 18-year-old since you were 12.” When I started working at this restaurant, I was immediately surrounded by a variety of guys, both older and younger than I was, and they all seemed to be interested in flirting and having fun.

Work became more of a place to socialize than an actual job and I loved every minute.

About a month after I was first hired, the kitchen manager asked me for my phone number. It seemed innocent enough so I gave it to him.

He was much older. At the time I was 17 years old and he was 24 years old, but I liked the attention so I didn’t let our age difference get in the way.

It wasn’t long before we were talking on the phone for hours each night. He would pull me into corners of the restaurant and whisper in my ear. He made me feel special and gave me butterflies. I was so happy when I was around him.

We officially became boyfriend and girlfriend after a few weeks of these games. I went into the relationship being completely honest with him. At the time I was a virgin and did not want to have sex until I was in love. I told him it would probably be a while before I was ready and he told me he was willing to wait as long as it would take.

It was about two-and-a-half months into our relationship when things went downhill. I didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. We finished and I ran to my car, never turning back. He called me later that night and I was still mortified. I tried to break up with him, but he talked me out of it.

It wasn’t until four days later that I gained the confidence to stand up for myself and told him it was over.

For two more years, I continued to work with this man who had taken advantage of a naive teenager. It was not easy and every time he brushed past me I cringed, but I also wanted so badly to forget it ever happened that I refused to tell anyone what he had done to me. It was my choice to wait to have sex; he had no right to force me into something I did not feel I was ready to do.

The whole time we were together, he told me lies. He told me what he knew I wanted to hear. And I believed every word. He was too smooth and persuasive, but I thought I was in love so I refused to notice.

After we broke up, I found out that he had been cheating on me the entire time we were together. This only made me hate him more.

My friends had warned me. I was the new girl and he always hit on the new girls. They told me to stay away, but I swore things were different with me. To this day, I still wonder why I didn’t listen to them.

I had many opportunities to stop my relationship with him before things went too far, but I thought I was safe and that I could protect myself. Never would I have thought something like this could happen to me.

I shouldn’t have had to do anything I didn’t want to do; no one should.

When people ask me if I am a virgin, I say no. But what I don’t tell them is that when I was 17 years old I was raped by my boyfriend.

– contributed by a News Staff member