sexual assault

I

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I am currently reading ‘Men who Hate Women’ ; I was raped and the men who raped me filmed themselves doing it, It’s been ten years and I never read my assault in the context of men hating women in general.. I genuinely believed for a very long time that their rage, venom, spite and cruelty was directed at me, because I’d turned down one of them – like what they did was their vendetta. Reading your book, I’ve had a kind of lightbulb moment – what if this is their permanent setting towards women? I am not sure how I feel, but you have put into words, something that has been hovering at the edge of my brain for a while..thank you.

Anon

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Sometime ago, I was the victim of a horrific rape. I have been advised by my lawyers not to discuss details publicly, as much as I wish I could explicitly name the perpetrator. What I can divulge, is that he drugged me, and despite my explicit ‘no’ to a sexual encounter between us, he went ahead and did it anyway after the drugs kicked in. The rape destroyed me, I had to leave my house, drop out of most of my classes, quit my job, and lost many many people close to me. There have been points where I genuinely didn’t want to be alive anymore. The pain that myself and those close to me have had to bear due to the actions of the perpetrator, is indescribable. Our lives will never be the same. He has had no repercussions in his life, no pain, no loss and no judgement.

Rivka

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My GP assumed I was ‘promiscuous’ because I had had a STI test. Her male colleague had already said ‘what have you been up to?’ because the GUM clinic had passed on the info. I had only got tested due to an assault years before to clear my mind but I was then subjected to a forced internal exam when I was experiencing abdominal pain (since diagnosed as bowel endometriosis) The Dr pretended to believe I had multiple partners even though I was in too much pain to have a sex life. When I tried to explain that I hadn’t had any other partners since the test 3 months before she said, ”Oh well you can’t trust men” implying that my partner (a rape survivor) would have other partners (we were each other’s only sexual partner aside from our rapists) I bled for the next week because the Dr was so brutal with the speculum and I know now that informed consent and chaperone procedure was not followed.

Rhiannon

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When I was younger I was sitting in school, we were sat down with everyone and I was sat next to a boy I knew. I was laughing with him and having fun until he started touching my thigh. I moved his hand away but he kept going back. This went on multiple times until I moved away.

Kennya

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As I was reading these stories, I was reminded of an event that I hadn’t thought of in many years, and which I didn’t give a lot of importance to. But now, having it brought up in my mind, and playing back what happened in my mind. I am now finally feeling and processing what happened to me. About 6 years ago, when I was in 7th grade, I was groped by someone in my computer class. I was maybe 13-14 at the time and my body was rapidly developing, I was a short, overweight girl that already had D cups and really thick thighs, basically fully developed. At this time, like most people I imagine, I felt extremely insecure about my body and looks, more specifically because I was at my heaviest weight. I didn’t really think anyone would find me attractive, or want to be with me, typical low self-esteem thoughts. That day was no exception. There were a lot of boys in my class but I never really thought much of it because I thought I was invisible to them due to me thinking so little about myself. I remember getting up from my computer and heading to the teacher’s desk to ask a question. Unfortunately, to get to their desk I had to walk past a group of boys, and so I did and that’s when it happened. As I was walking past, someone smacked my ass. I was completely and utterly shocked, I didn’t know what to do but to turn around and see who it was. I must’ve turned too slow or something, because as soon as I turned around all the boys were spaced out, and far away from me. I knew it was them, they were all staring at me, I just didn’t know which one did it. Complete fucking embarrassment ran through me, I didn’t know who had done it but they know. They all stared at me knowing what happened and who did it. Yet I stood there clueless not knowing what to do. I don’t remember what happened after, I just know nothing happened, I didn’t tell anyone, I just let it be. I didn’t even confront the kids. I just asked my question and went back to my seat. Absolutely nothing happened. Everything continued as if nothing had happened. I think that made me think that I shouldn’t dwell on it and that’s what resulted in me just now processing the emotions I felt. Embarrassment, frustration, rage, dread, dirtiness, fear, and vulnerability. Why would they do that? Why would they fucking do that to me? why didn’t I do something? Honestly, I was scared the teacher wouldn’t believe me. I was scared nothing would happen. I was scared more people would find out. I was scared they would all just look at me the same way they looked at me. I was scared that it would happen again.

anonymous

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trigger warning: sexual assault i recently watched a show where there was a plot for one of the characters where she gets sexually assaulted on the bus. while i was watching the whole thing unfold and the way she handled it, i couldn’t really understand why i felt so uncomfortable and uneasy until i realised i had been locking away trauma from several years ago. when i was 12, my math teacher said that i was going to become a porn star because i got accepted into art school under the theatre program. he said it so casually in front of everyone in class (i went to a co-ed school, so there were boys in the class as well), and i couldn’t say anything because i didn’t want to make a scene, and i thought that it was normal because he was the cool teacher and is open about all sorts of topics. even when i mentioned it to my parents at that point in time, they didn’t really say or do anything, and i thought it was normal. it didn’t really sink in until now, at the age of 21, that what happened was very much wrong, and to think that this was someone in the education sector and was also a parent himself, openly sexualising a child in front of everyone, once again enforcing the idea that men can say anything to anyone. to the boys in that class, who now would think that they can say that a girl will go into the porn industry without any consequences, it scares me. the year after that, i was sexually assaulted on a crowded train. someone’s hand had brushed against my crotch and the first time, i thought it was an accident, but then it happened again, and again, and again. at that point, i was terrified and shocked and i didn’t know what to do. i didn’t know if anyone would have helped me if i had called for help, and the worst part was the thought that crossed my mind: “it’s okay, i’ll be reaching my stop soon, so i’ll just endure it until then.” i was really lucky that a woman next to me saw what was happening and immediately made me swap places with her because i think if she hadn’t done it, i would’ve gone the entire ride letting some man touch me without my consent. i didn’t realise i had been sexually assaulted, because whenever i hear that phrase, i immediately think of rape. it didn’t seem serious enough to count as sexual assault, but i was, and it makes me angry and upset that i didn’t take it seriously enough to stand up for myself and say that i felt very much unsafe. i’m even angrier at the fact that my parents didn’t do anything, or even get mad on my behalf. and i hate that i went back on the train the next day as if nothing had happened because i thought it would be silly of me to be scared of the train. the thought of “this doesn’t usually happen so it’s fine. it’s a one time thing.” kept going through my mind, but it doesn’t change the fact that i’m now extremely anxious every time i enter an enclosed space with any men, i don’t feel safe going anywhere without something i can use as a weapon, and i’m scared to talk about this with anyone because i keep thinking that they’re going to say that it happened a long time ago and you should let it go.

raina

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the week i turned 12 in the 6th grade was a rollarskating week at my school. so during gym class when i was skating, my friend came up to me and told me that during math (we had separate math classes) that one of my classmates said if he could choose, he would rape me.

sarahh

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My girlfriend today was sent an incoming video call on WhatsApp. She assumed it was a contact and answered. It was a man wanking. We reported and blocked it. We aren’t aware of anything else we can do. We’ve not seen any information about this – how much of an issue it is, what can be done about it. Once again we feel alone in a world where we are a majority gender.

River

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This is not my story but a story of my friend. My friend, let’s call them Suzy, told us at a sleepover that one of our friends had sexually assaulted them. We were horrified and immediately dropped him. Eventually they told a teacher they trusted. You would think they would do something but instead they decided to get him therapy and ignore my Suzy. Even though they got PTSD from it and has panic attacks anytime he is near us. He now is an “equality ambassador” and represents our drama department. It makes no sense how someone who hurt Suzy so much is praised and given so much opportunities. If this is how we treat people who have been sexually assaulted we are far from finished on education. I find it hilarious how my school says they will listen to us but after that I don’t know how.

Hannah Roo

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I was a young girl in a grey school uniform. He groped me from behind, up my skirt, and I didn’t have tights on. It was the first time I had ever been touched there. As I hurried away, he threatened to “shank” me. I didn’t really know what “shank” meant, and I wondered whether he meant with a knife or with his penis. He continued following me and, at the corner of my road, demanded that he know my age. I lied, telling him I was 13 not 15. This seemed to work, and he walked away. When I got home, I went straight to my bedroom. This felt strange, but I felt it was my only option. I stayed away from my mother, away my sister watching TV, and away from the food in the kitchen. Alone.