This is such an important topic! I saw a therapist a few days after my rape (who completely sucked and blamed me for "being too nice to people") who had one good insight: The supremely slimey douchebag who raped me absolutely planned it. If not me, somebody else would've been victimized. Woah...a little helpful, a lot disconcerting.
After I broke through that barrier, I began to realize that objects that were in the room I was taken to were actually *weapons.* ((Wow.)) A jump rope. Duct tape. A kitchen knife. All of these things seemed normal at the time -- normal? I'm a smart girl. Just goes to show how fuzzy your mind gets when you're being pinned down, threatened and assaulted repeatedly while begging God or whomever to get you through this so that your mom doesn't flip out when you go missing.
I am so thankful that I had a year to put all of these pieces together before the trial so that I could identify those objects as weapons in court. And I did, and the festering jackass was convicted. The number one weapon I identified? His mind. The number two weapon? His hands. I also made the jury understand that the while other weapons were relatively inconsequential (he didn't use them on me) they were still there.
When I was in high school, I had a premonition in a dream that I would be raped at a beach someday. I distinctly remember waking up and telling my then-boyfriend about the dream. I avoided beaches for a long time. In the end, I met the man who raped me at a beach and gave him a ride back to the resort at which he worked (because I'm "too nice"). People give me a hard time about giving a stranger a ride, but who knows what weapons he had hidden at the beach? (I mean aside from the huge rocks and 35-degree-Fahrenheit water and total solitude...)
In any event, he admitted to me (while pinning me down and bruising my soul) that rape was his number one fantasy. As far as I'm concerned, fantasy is premeditation. It's just a matter of opportunity that prevents the fantasy from becoming reality. He told me he couldn't "keep it up" because I wasn't screaming and thrashing around like the girl in his fantasy. Sorry I couldn't help you out, buddy...real shame.