Asking for it

At the age of 19, I was sexually assaulted.
Rape sounds so much nicer when you word it that way.
There I was, a clueless, socially inept,
affection-starved girl
who accepted a date from the wrong guy -
A friend...a colleague...it didn't matter

I got a little drunk
He got a little aggressive
I don't remember the rest. 
Maybe I blocked it out
Maybe I passed out.

I was not asking for it,
But the shame of it clouded my spirit
For a dozen years or more.
It had to be my fault. 
I was the woman.
This was the South.
Even though I said no
Even though I told them to stop
I was somehow culpable because of my gender.
When does it stop?