When I was a sophomore in college I went to watch a movie with a foreign exchange student who lived in our appointment complex. I was hoping he would be my first kiss. He raped me halfway through the movie.
I called the secretary of the singles ward I was in the next day and asked to see the bishop, since I knew that felt terrible and dirty and I wanted to feel clean again. I saw the bishop that night, less then 24 hours after I was raped. I told him everything. He asked if I had fought back, and why I was in a boy’s apartment alone. He determined that it wasn’t rape, and told me I needed to fully repent of this sin I had committed.
I was disfellowshipped for a few months, and was told I had to confess to my parents that I had engaged in sex outside of marriage. Telling my dad that I had ‘allowed’ someone to have sex with me was one of the worst things I have ever done. I have never felt so broken as I did when I saw his face fall. Since the bishop had decided it wasn’t rape I didn’t mention the circumstances everything had happened under to my parents.
After my confession to my parents and two months of being disfellowshipped, I was allowed to take the sacrament again. My roommates knew what had happened and judged me for needing to repent. I hated myself for a long time after this experience. I never reported to police or the university.