assault

Anonymous

|

This is only one of countless stories on my list, but it is the one that I think angers me the most. I was living in a shared house with two other girls. I woke up in the middle of the night – having gone to bed to an empty house – to feel a body behind me and hands on my breasts and between my legs. It took me a few moments to fully wake and realise it wasn’t a dream, and then I screamed and jumped out of bed – there was total stranger in it. It transpired that he had bumped into my housemates earlier on in a pub and was a friend of theirs. Later, after they had left, he had turned up drunk outside our house and asked to stay on the sofa, and naturally they let him. His excuse was he thought it was my housemates bedroom – we’d swapped rooms when I moved in – so essentially his excuse was he sexually assaulted the wrong sleeping woman by mistake. We kicked him out and eventually went back to bed. The next day at work I couldn’t stop thinking about it; I told a colleague and kind of laughed it off as a ‘these things happen’ but the look on their face made me think twice about it and I realised it just is not ok – I couldn’t ‘justify’ it in the way I had other assaults with ‘I was drunk’ ‘I chose to go home with him’ etc. I was literally just asleep in my own bed. So, I went to the police. And this is where I get angry. They believed me, they investigated, the man admitted it – which to me seems to be a fairly straightforward case. However, it never went to the CPS; the police said that the assailant had made a mistake and felt really guilty about it; that a court case would be traumatic for me and my sex life would be open for discussion, that I would be ruining a young man’s future just because of a drunken mistake. And I acquiesced. And this makes me angrier than anything else – the way the police prioritised his future over my well-being; the way they minimised what happened to me; the way they insinuated my being sexually active would make the case more difficult in court. Side note: Whilst in the instance above I think the police were appalling, I have more recently been involved in an investigation into sexual abuse I suffered when I was younger, and I really cannot fault the way the police have handled my case and dealt with me as a victim – so just like it is ‘not all men’ it is ‘not all police’ – but whether or not you get a man who isn’t rapey or a police officer who does their job should not be down to sheer dumb luck and while it is ‘not all xxx’ it is the whole system.

Olivia

|

I was 14 years old when it happened. I was in a crowded ski lift when I noticed the man behind me was quite close to me. At first, I found it quite strange but then I thought I was getting paranoid. During the few minutes we were in the ski lift, I felt his hand brushing the back of legs, I tried to ignore it by scrolling through social media. When we got to the station, everyone got off the ski lift and I was ready to get off when I got pushed up against the lift. In that moment I realised I was being pinpointed by his two poles, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t do anything. The only thing that was crossing my mind was a alert/instinct telling me GET OUT OF THIS SITUATION. So, I elbowed him, I could see what he looked like, he was a old man I would say in his 60s. I rushed out of the lift to get to my family who were waiting at the button lift. I hadn’t processed what had just happened. It was on my mind for a while. It took me a month to build up the courage to tell my mum. She brushed it off and told me it was nothing and that I shouldn’t worry about it. What really scares me is what would have had happened if I didn’t manage to get off that lift.

Miriam

|

SO many everyday sexist things have happened to me, from sexual assault to being threatened with rape in order to make me allow burglers to take my belongings ‘or else’, peeping toms looking in my bedroom at night as a teenager and again ain my 20s, old men perving at me when I was a school girl and trying to get me to go back to their house with them, to all the usual cat calling (less now I that I am out of my 20s and such a relief). But today is the small stuff. I belong to a small social media group for poets. The male members keep using it to share photographs of models, dancers, beautiful celebrities etc, with zero context, just an objectified body. And then the male poets fill the thread with sexist tropes about women, how utterly bewildering we are (UGH), or how beautiful they are (Ah yes the beauty pathway to peace, I’m what?). I came here for poetry, why am I constantly looking at models and celebrations of a narrow beauty ideals? I want to shout “the women in this group aren’t here for this!!!” Of course they have no idea what they are doing, not for lack of having explained it to them, they keep doing it.I am contemplating a little experiment on joining in with a daily naked man post. But – Must. Not. Lower. Self. To. Their. Level, right? I have already tried direct communication. They said it was innocent, not their intention etc, started sprinkling in some actual content, but still the model shots persist. After all the assaults and crap I have dealt with in my life, sometimes this smaller stuff leaves me feeling like I am just swimming in rape culture everywhere I go. No, women are not bewildering, men get bewildered because they aren’t taught to do feelings very well. Yes there are many traditionally beautiful bodies, and so many myriad other ways a body can be beautiful (of course they post only the thin beauty). They are our bodies though, they have agency, intelligence, desires, plans, talents, skills, interests, strength, achievements… and our beauty is the least important one of all. Sucks that society doesn’t tend to agree.

belle

|

Years ago, I was standing on a busy train and a man stood very close behind me and started to rub his groin on me. I was shocked and moved away, but he followed me and did it again. I was too shy to say anything, I looked around in horror at other people on the train who were watching and saw it all happen, yet no one said or did anything. That was the worst feeling, the hopelessness. I kept trying to move away from him until the train stopped and I could flee the situation. The fact nobody did anything still makes my skin crawl. I have been raped (when I confronted him he told me it was my fault and to make better choices), I have been strangled twice (once in public) touched inappropriately countless times (with onlookers watching), and sexually harassed more times than I can remember from a young age. I would let guys who pressured me touch me or have sex with me because it was easier than saying no, although my body language definitely said no. It makes me feel sadness and anger. I used to feel guilt and shame but now I know it isn’t my fault. I know these days I will always speak up to stop this behavior and always expect to be asked for consent. When I was younger I was too shy and naive and lacked awareness of what consent was. It scares me to think of all the young women who might go through all the same experiences that I did. I hope this helps stop that from happening.

Tamsin

|

I was walking down the hill past the bus stop one evening in August. It was still light, but very quiet, with only one man in sight. As I got closer to him he crossed to the other side of the road, but just as I walked by he crossed back. Before I knew it he had grabbed me, wrapped his arms around me tightly, and was not letting go. I shouted “get off me!”, “stop it!” and tried to pry his hands off. He moved one hand down my back to my bum, grabbed it and squeezed it. I was in shock. I finally managed to break free and ran away as fast as I could. I was 16. To this day I can’t help feeling like I was partly to blame, I was wearing short shorts, so was I asking for it? I feel sorry for this man, and if he is ever charged, I will feel guilty. What does that say about our society and what we teach young girls…

Anon

|

In 2019, I was engaged to a man who is a third grade teacher. He is white and 50 years old. Even though we were sexually intimate regularly, I believe he gave me a roofie and assaulted me. He took me to a bar in an expensive restaurant where I had one drink. I have absolutely no memory after consuming some of that drink. He told me he had to carry me out. He photographed me slumped over in his car. He said we had “crazy” sex. I had bruises and cuts on my body. I remember nothing. But based solely on his admissions, I believe he put a roofy in my drink at that bar for the purpose of asserting power and control over me and assaulting me.

Ruth

|

One of the worst memories of my teenage years is the one I have of sitting in the reception of my high school having a headache when a boy who was older than me by a couple of years sat down next to me and draped his coat over my leg and began touching me intimately. I was shocked (this was happening in front of adults) and I didn’t know the boy or how to speak up being only 13 myself. I later told my mother who played the whole thing off as “maybe he just liked the feel of your trousers” Later I began working and having started at only 15 I would regularly be the subject of pointed stares, jokes and sexual comments from male co-workers the term “if there’s grass on the wicket” was bandied about more than once. Manager and colleagues in workplaces would often apologise to me for swearing (as I was the only woman) or ask me to fetch drinks/arrange catering (not my remit) The worst experience in the workplace came later where a colleague who was 30 years my senior grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his lap resting his hand on my rear at a Christmas party whilst he berated me for not having received an order routed through my department. I was a manager he was ranked below me in the company but still felt entitled to touch me. Each of these experiences were intensely uncomfortable and have stayed with me. I’m glad of the opportunity to voice them and show how ingrained sexism is in the behaviours of some in our society

sarahh

|

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.

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.

anonymous

|

TW: assault One Halloween, my brothers decided to occupy the garage roof and drop plastic spiders onto people who came to the door for trick or treat. My role was to open the door, and offer the bucket of sweets (which my Mum had also filled with toy goo, to add to the Halloween vibe). It was a lovely evening, and I was thoroughly enjoying entertaining the families in our village. Then, 2 teen boys came to our door. I knew one of them, he was the year below me (I was 16/17). The other boy, wearing a full body (including face covering) latex suit, stepped into our porch, where I offered him the bucket. He went to put his hand in the bucket, and exclaimed when he realised it was full of goo. I’ve forgotten, possibly through choice, what he said next, but he stepped further into our porch. He then, reached out, and groped my breasts, on my front door step. I was stood in the safety of my own home, and a stranger shattered that feeling with 2 outreached hands. I froze, and after a while he started laughing and walked off. I remember catching eyes with the boy I knew, and the silence. As they walked off, I shut the front door, and told my brothers that I wasn’t going to answer the front door anymore. My mum asked if I was okay, and I cried explaining to her what happened. I know she text the boys mum but I have no idea if the conversation went any further. I felt so violated, in the confines of my own home, by a faceless stranger who I shall never know. Every year since I have found Halloween a stressful experience, and have never regained the confidence I used to hold in my own home. 6 months later, I was sexually assaulted again, by my at the time boyfriend. 1.5 yrs after the second assault, I was assaulted again, in a nightclub. The nightclub was by far the least traumatic, the behaviour although abhorrent, so normalised that I felt oddly safe in the comfort so many of my friends had experienced the same. I have often wondered which has affected me more, being assaulted by a stranger on the front door step of my home, or being assaulted by a boy who loved me in his home. I have battled for years with my feelings regarding the second assault- it took me a long term to realise it for what it was, and I still wonder whether he realised or realises that it was assault. On my way home from the scene of the assault, I was catcalled by 3 men in a van. This had a profound impact on me, as I could immediately recognise the wrong that is catcalling a girl (or anyone), but it took me years to completely recognise the wrong of the assault itself. The eerie unknown of the stranger on the doorstep has always caused me to feel anger, repulsion and fear, with no doubt in my mind of what it was. The fact my family were mere feet away but oblivious, the fact he knows what I look like but I will never know his face, the fact he had the confidence to do it in my home, and laugh at my expression of shock. I don’t think I will ever again be the immediately trusting woman I once was.