guilt

Anon

When I was 17 at a school party a boy blatantly sexually assaulted me by coming up behind me when I was sitting down and grabbing me and kissing me after I had already made it clear to him, I wasn’t interested. There were over 100 people there that night, and only one girl asked if I was ok (thank you E!). I called him out about it when in class the next week because he was claiming I was a ‘slag’ who was all over him – which was completely untrue, I was scared and embarrassed and went along with it in the moment because I had no idea what to do – 17-year-old me was too embarrassed to push him off me. I lost many friends because of this, they all thought I was a crazy feminist bitch. Even though he had a terrible history with being a creep when drunk (he assaulted 3 other people that night alone) almost no one apart from my very close girlfriends understood how his behaviour was wrong. I am now in my 20s and can finally understand and admit to myself that what he did was assault, and it’s ok to feel angry and grossed out by it. For years I felt guilty for getting angry at him and feeling like I was making a mountain out of a molehill. Fuck you Ben. We need more Es in the world.

Anon

When I was 17 at a school party a boy blatantly sexually assaulted me by coming up behind me when I was sitting down and grabbing me and kissing me after I had already made it clear to him, I wasn’t interested. There were over 100 people there that night, and only one girl asked if I was ok (thank you E!). I called him out about it when in class the next week because he was claiming I was a ‘slag’ who was all over him – which was completely untrue, I was scared and embarrassed and went along with it in the moment because I had no idea what to do – 17-year-old me was too embarrassed to push him off me. I lost many friends because of this, they all thought I was a crazy feminist bitch. Even though he had a terrible history with being a creep when drunk (he assaulted 3 other people that night alone) almost no one apart from my very close girlfriends understood how his behaviour was wrong. I am now in my 20s and can finally understand and admit to myself that what he did was assault, and it’s ok to feel angry and grossed out by it. For years I felt guilty for getting angry at him and feeling like I was making a mountain out of a molehill. Fuck you Ben. We need more Es in the world.

Anon, F

My first kiss was stolen against my will. I went to a show with my friends, and were meeting up with a friend of them (who was the performer). I think I was around 18 at the time. We were watching the show then I got called up to be the assistant. I was already nervous and I didn’t want to go, but ended up giving in because the crowd was getting jeery and my friends were egging me on. I figure.. what’s the worse that can happen? It’s just a show, and I have a whole audience watching me. Nothing bad can happen, surely! But then the worse DID happen. The performer begins his magic trick and towards the end he asks me to kiss his cheek to ‘complete’ the trick. I *really* didn’t want to do this as it was making me feel uncomfortable, but what can I do? I have this audience watching me, my friends watching me, and the performer basically saying “it’ll be fine, I promise”. But just as I kiss his check, he turns his face towards me so that I end up kissing his mouth. I was completely humiliated. The audience roars with laughter, a few wolf whistles ensue, too. This guy assumed my sexuality and my being single (I’m ace). He assumed my intentions and what I was comfortable with, expecting me to decline because society clearly gives women the space to do so without harassment. I don’t hold any negative feelings towards the guy; he’s just a pawn. At the end of the day, both he and I played our parts in society: the roles that are expected of us. All I can do now is be more aware of situations like this and call them out.

N

I was at a house party when a guy who had once been like family to me tried to sexually assault me. We were spooning in bed, fully-clothed and just talking about our lives, when he slips his hand under my top. At first I think it’s a joke, and I laugh and ask him what he’s doing. He says he’s cold, he just wants to touch my skin because its warm. We keep talking, and his hand slowly starts to move up towards my bra. I now have my hand on his arm, trying to move it away, asking him again what he’s doing. He shushes me and says it’s okay. At this point I am panicking and I freeze – I can’t move his arm away, he’s too strong, and I have no idea what to do. I feel like my throat has closed up with fear, and even though there are people in the next room, I can’t say a word. At that moment, one of our friends walks in, and his grip loosens just enough for me to move his arm and put some distance between us. My friend asks us what is going on, and I laugh it off. It was nothing, right? It was only during the next week that I realised I was not okay, and couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. I told a friend, and of course it got back to him. He told them that nothing had happened, that I wanted it, that I was jealous and upset that he hadn’t had sex with me. He took me aside at another party, where I had been trying to avoid him, and told me to stop spreading lies, that I wasn’t his type and he was sorry about it. My friends kicked him out of the party, and I haven’t seen him since. Even typing this out now, four years later, I still feel ashamed. Nothing happened, so it’s fine, right? But if it was fine, why do I still feel like this – guilty, embarrassed, humiliated? I wanted to speak about my experience during the #metoo movement, but I just didn’t feel able to. It could have been so, so much worse. Yet I still feel violated.

M

I went to uni at 18 and chose to attend the same university that my brother had, whilst he studied in America. In ‘freshers week’ my brother’s rugby ‘friends’ tried it on and I went home with a 3rd year, 1st team rugby player. I later learnt that he had given graphic details of the nights we spent together at rugby socials. He apparently gained extra credit for my fresher and sibling status. Soon after this I was called by my brother to proofread one of his essays. Directing me to open his emails, I sat in halls and opened the inbox to be greeted with an email from this man to my brother entitled… I met your sister. I opened the email to read an account of his nights with me (all true) followed by ‘only joking mate, I’d never do that to you.’ I eventually had to tell my brother and deal with comments about my promiscuity from the rugby team. I had two sexual partners at university – this man and my now husband. The guilt I felt for humiliating my brother and the lack of respect this man showed to me was very damaging. I have only now, 10 years on and married to a wonderful feminist, forgiven myself.

Jess

I’m finishing up my Erasmus year in Spain. I had to go into uni for a class, and given it was around 29 degrees, I decided to wear a dress. By no means would I have considered it revealing: it shows no cleavage and is knee length.I was walking back to my building after my class and I open the building door and a man follows me in. I’ve not seen him before but I don’t know most of my neighbours beyond those on my floor. I wait for him to continue up the stairs while I sort out some post, but he stays in the lobby. I find this weird but head on up the stairs, and then I feel him start to feel me up. I turn round, pretty much going “what the fuck” and he gives me a surprised look and tells me to calm down; which of course only makes me more angry. I tell him to not touch me and to get out, he does so but looks at me like I’m crazy. As soon as I see the door close, I run up the stairs to my flat in tears. I text some friends and as I recount it, I begin to feel like maybe I overreacted or that I did something to provoke this. Even though my friends assure me that it’s creepy, it’s sexual assualt, and that I didn’t overreact at all, I still don’t feel comfortable labelling it as that and I’m now leaving the flat in long trousers. Intellectually, I know it was entirely his fault but I still can’t help feeling like I’m responsible.