I'll be the first to say that losing your V-card to someone you didn't really love sucks, but it says earlier that they were teenagers when this happened, so it sounds like both of them just had no fucking clue what they were doing. Dude might've been an asshole who didn't respect that she was uncomfortable with having a sexual relationship (and I say might because we're only getting one side of the story), but it's not the same kind of trauma as the hands-to-the-wall pants-to-the-ground variety of rape, and she's had plenty of time to mature and deal with the experience.
But she's not dealing with it. The final part of the "game" makes it clear that even now, ten years later, she is having literal nightmares about her experiences. She's horrified by it. She even identifies as "sometimes" asexual because she wasn't attracted to him. And yet she considers the fact that she's living in her parents' basement, paranoid, constantly posting long rants about feminism, a triumph. An inspiration to victims of sexual assault everywhere. It does not occur to her that "it's okay to stew in your own misery, as long as you're alive!" is a horrible message to other victims of trauma, and a doubly horrible one to be telling herself.
Nora needs therapy, like, yesterday. She needs to get off the internet, away from the asspat brigade, and figure out how to work with that bruised-up brain of hers. But in all likelihood, she'll just keep taking the easy way out, snorting Xanax and pretending everything's all kumbayah. What a sad way to live.
