Some things are harder to admit to than others. I’ve been thinking about this for a few months. And it’s been really difficult about how to deal with it. I have been able to talk about it to a few friends, but writing it down just seems a lot more final and it’s also not quite the cathartic experience I’d hoped it would be. But tonight, I sit alone, and I will write this all down, not for me, but others who have experienced what I lived through.
Just like with alcoholics, I’ll start the way the AA does.
Hi. My name is Roxane and about four months ago, I was raped.
It takes a lot from me to write that word down. It fucking hurts to see it black on white, but it happened. It was rape because it was not consensual sex. I did not say yes and I did not fight back. Why? I was asleep. I woke up to find a very old “friend” of mine having sex with me. I didn’t realise until it happened to me, that rape has many forms. It can be the guy who drugs your drink and follows you home. The man who abducts someone. It can also be the man who jumps you in a darkened street. But rape all comes down to one thing. No means no. I can do what I wish with my body. I can wear slutty clothes, tattoo and pierce my body, as long as I choose to. But, when I say no, it means no. Even if I have not said “no”, if I am drugged, sleeping, deaf, dumb… non consensual sex can take many forms. But it boils down to one thing, If i say no, or am unable to say yes or no, it’s rape. There’s no two ways about it. It took me a while to realise that I was raped. I put it down to him drinking. To us being friends for over five years. For us having “played” around a long time ago. But I realised that I had been raped. I was raped by someone I thought was a friend.
The details of what happened are not important, safe to say that we had been drinking, but neither were drunk. We have slept next to each other for years, we had never slept together. We had nearly been bad a few times, but I resisted because he had a girlfriend at the time, and I refused to be that person. Since I have been moving around for the past four years, we had not hung out so much. I was now back where I had started off a few years before, and we started to hang out again. He slept in my bed. We both fell asleep, or so I had thought, because god knows how long after I had fallen asleep, I woke up to him having sex with me. I pushed him off. We have since spoken and he did not mention anything, except to insult me and criticise me. I have no cut all ties with him. It is the only way.
Some are more fucked up than me, or maybe I am just denying it all happened. I don’t know. I’ve always has issues with the opposite sex, and it boils down to trust, confidence and fuck knows what… but this just proved that you can’t deny the past. I have to accept that I am now part of some sort of statistic. I am one of the millions of women world wide who have been raped. I would not wish this on my worst enemy, if I actually had one. Because you can’t talk to your friends about this stuff. You feel dirty. You feel ashamed. Who will want me now? You also don’t want pity. You want to hide away. For months I chose drink, drugs and anything else I could get my hands on. And what’s funny, I could still fake how happy I was to everyone else. I had this infallible mask on that no one saw the cracks it had. Everyone thinks I am so strong and confident. Being raped kicked down the wall I had been building, and sometimes I feel as though I am back at the bottom. Im 25. Who’s going to protect me when I can’t protect myself in my own house?
So I am writing this open letter to anyone who stumbles across my blog and needs someone to confide it, because I know what it feels like. Speak out. Tell someone so that you don’t feel alone.