"For a woman, daily life is dictated by the male gaze and the fear of male aggression. We avoid dark streets and empty parks. We grow up being told by our mothers and grandmothers how to smile politely after a cat-call so you aren’t followed home, how to walk and dress so that you fall into the periphery, how to become invisible as to be visible in a men’s world is to be a target. A threat. An “other” to their masculinity that challenges their artificial superiority in this milieu."
- Anonymous
*TRIGGER WARNING*
THE FOLLOWING ARTICLE CONTAINS SENSITIVE INFORMATION ABOUT SEXUAL ASSAULT, SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE WHICH MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME PEOPLE.
IF YOU'RE A VICTIM, PLEASE KNOW YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
Domestic and Sexual Abuse Helpline - 0808 802 1414
Lifeline - 0808 808 8000
Nexus NI - 028 9032 6803
The Rowan - 0800 389 4424
Women's Aid - 028 9024 9041
If you're not in immediate danger and would like to report rape or sexual assault, call 101.
A recent survey found that 97% of women aged 18-24 in the UK have been sexually harassed (The Guardian, 2021). Women are told to not go out on their own, and often suggested to go with someone they know, yet approximately 90% of victims know the perpetrator prior to the offence (Rape Crisis, 2016). In the last few years movements such as #metoo (which was founded by survivor and activist Tarana Burke) have gone viral. They have advocated for survivors of sexual assault and violence in order to eradicate sexual harassment and expose abusers (Me Too).
In theory, awareness surrounding sexual assault and rape has grown; if that's the case, why are women STILL getting blamed? Why are men, and women too at times, excusing the actions of the perpetrators? Why are the clothes of the victim, their whereabouts or their alcohol levels even being mentioned? Why are we not believing victims? Why is the first course of action to find a way to blame the victim and not offer them support and justice?
In light of the recent events surrounding Sarah Evarard's disappearance and death, ONLY days after International Women's Day, the internet is louder than ever. It is ANGRIER than ever, and rightly so. This article aims to share and raise awareness for sexual harassment, abuse, violence and rape. It will share anonymous, graphic and uncensored stories of our fellow students, and their experiences with the above, as well as abusive relationships. The purpose of this article is to highlight that indeed, most women experience sexual harassment in one way or another at least once in their lives. They're our friends, teachers, students and people you pass on the street. The sheer fact that all of those who submitted a story, describe multiple occasions should highlight the extent of this issue.
These stories will not be an easy read, and if you feel like you can't continue reading, that's okay. Nonetheless we feel that it's important to give them a platform. We thank and appreciate each of the contributors and we hope that by sharing their story, whilst anonymously, takes at least some of the weight off their shoulders and helps them heal.
- The Graticule Editorial Board.
When I was only 14, an adult man slapped my ass as I walked in the centre of my town. Whilst that experience doesn’t fit with the mainstream narrative of sexual assault, that was sexual assault: I was wearing modest clothes and walking during the middle of the day with a group of friends. Yet no one said anything and brushed it off as a normal, everyday occurrence.
Working in a corner shop I have many tales of sexual harassment. When a new girl starts, I always make a point to give her descriptions of perverted men. There was a particularly vulgar regular who will always stick in my mind who looked exactly like Chris Elliott in Scary Movie Two. He asked me, “If it ripped [implying a condom], would you tell your boyfriend to stop?” Over the following weeks, he would ask “Are you having a heavy flow?” until my manager eventually barred him. By other customers I have been told I have pretty eyes and a good figure, asked for my number, kissed on the hand, pulled into a hug and not been released after asking. That may seem flattering or enduring, but if you think that then consider if you think it would be appropriate for you to do that, or your father to do so.
My own family told me I should be “flattered at having an admirer” when I was asked for a kiss by a customer in his early twenties. When I refused him, he lifted my mask up in an attempt to forcibly kiss me while his mate laughed on. For days afterwards I was shaking and frightened. The exchange was a constant back and forth lasting 30 minutes: him complimenting me, asking me out, saying how much of a “good guy” he, that he’d “treat me right”, insisting that I call him if and when I break up with my boyfriend. He even went as far to say he would come visit me at my house later that day. I replayed it over and over again in my head. I thought I should have yelled at him, pushed him away, anything other than just meekly moving away. But I was scared. I was alone, organising the daily newspapers at 7:20am on a Thursday, too far away from the till so I had nothing to put between me and his advances. His height alone was intimidating, but he was also with a mate. If I stood up for myself, who would have helped me had the two men become aggressive? 80-year-old pensioner Bill with Parkinson’s who comes in at 8am on the dot for his Belfast Telegraph?
But my experiences aren’t even the worst in that shop. Another worker, when she was only 16-years-old, was told by a costumer that he’d “love to bend [her] over and fuck her against the till”. Others have been asked to get cigarettes under the ploy of getting them to turn around. At uni, I’ve also faced sexual harassment. After getting off the train at Botanic, a group of middle-aged men purposely intimidated me by surrounding and commenting that I had “nice tits” despite wearing a thick jumper, scarf and water-proof coat. Unless they had x-ray vision, their only intention was to unnerve me. While searching for books and walking through the isles in the McClay Library, I’ve had men look me up and down, make eye contact, then visibly stare at my ass. Signs on the back of bathroom doors in QUB buildings do nothing to discourage this behaviour. If anything, it makes the lives of victims harder by reminding them over and over again about their trauma. For me personally, I was triggered every time I went to the bathroom and had to remember which stall had which patronising sticker in it. Eventually I gave up studying in the McClay because it wasn’t worth me reliving my experiences once every hour to two hours.
When I was 16, I began dating a guy who seemed kind and light-hearted. He never failed making me laugh. On our dates, he would insist on paying. In school, we’d walk together around the hockey pitches, swapping stories about silly incidents in class. On the weekends, we would go to cafes and see a film. On the surface, we seemed the picturesque teenage romance. But in truth, he enjoyed hurting me. He would threaten to humiliate me in the cafes and cinemas, promising to sexually expose me in front of everyone unless I did what he said. I would be scared to visit a bathroom in case he insisted on following me and forcing me to pleasure him. When we went to his house, the nightmare would begin in full. He would wear me down and coerce me until I allowed him to fuck me. Sometimes he didn’t even wait or bother to coerce me and just push my head into his pillow to stop me crying out while he raped me, either vaginally or anally. It depended how he felt on the day. Even when I wasn’t with him in person was I safe. He would pester me for nudes or videos, using coercion to get his way. On the days I refused, he would sext my friend, coercing her to send him some all the while blaming it on me.
We dated for two years. But the most pressing question I am asked is why didn’t I leave him sooner? The reasons are complex and interwoven. Because he threatened to kill himself when I did. Because he isolated me from my friends, leaving me with barely anyone to give me the strength to escape. Because he accused me of cheating on him and convinced everyone around me that I was the issue in our relationship so that no one would believe me. Because I couldn’t allow myself to believe that what he was doing to be was abuse and rape.
If you pass my abuser and rapist on the street, you might think that he is a dashing young gentleman with polite manners. And that is the terrifying truth of predators, they don’t always look like the creepy-old-pervert-in-a-trench-coat myth. Predators are not confined to a gender, age, aesthetic, race or creed. There is one universal thing about predators however: they don’t believe they are predators. My own rapist warned girls at our formal that a guy at the function had frequently been making rape jokes and stated their interest in drugging girls. He was terrified yet couldn’t see that he himself was a rapist."
Particularly within the university, I was assaulted in my own room in elms BT2 while I slept. My assaulter had harassed me for months beforehand; saying things about my body that made me uncomfortable any time we were alone, or anyone else was out of earshot. I think he thought it was funny at first, but it just felt creepy. He would invite himself into my room to use my projector, and I felt that I couldn’t say no; I felt I didn’t have a reason to say no, that I’d be the bad guy if I did. One night he asked me to help him with something in the common area, and he followed me back to my room. He asked if he could stay over at my flat because his sister was sleeping over in his room, and had a picture ready of some blankets on his kitchen floor, telling me that if I didn’t let him in, that’s where he’d be sleeping. Again, I felt like I couldn’t say no. I went to bed, and he went up to his room to get something. I fell asleep before he came back, but I woke up to my shirt half pulled over my chest, and his hands on my body.
I was also assaulted by my ex while still in a relationship with him; he wanted to have sex but I didn’t. I said no and turned over in bed to start watching a movie. A few minutes later he started again and I froze, remembering past times that I had been assaulted before. I just couldn’t move. He said “well you’re not saying no...” and just kept going. I couldn’t even speak in that moment, I just froze
My first experience of sexual assault dates back to my childhood; I couldn't have been older than 7 or 8, but I remember very little other than the fact that he was older than me and it definitely shouldn't have happened. Like most kids, I spent my childhood with other kids that lived beside me, playing hide and seek, catch or 'family'. On this occasion, I was the mum, and he was the dad. He was 2 or 3 years older than me, and while we were both children, I didn't realise how wrong this was until I was in my teens. I lived in a flat, and all of the flats in the same building had a shared bin area, It was divided by sort of like a half wall. I can't remember how I got there, all I can remember is that he took me behind this half wall and told me to take my underwear off. He touched me. I don't remember much more, but I found out at a later stage that someone had seen it; one of my friends' mum. I still don't understand why she never said anything, why she didn't mention it to my family, or speak to me. While this experience dates back approximately 15 years, and I have very little memory of it, it still impacts me. I have memories, scenarios in my head, of him and his brothers taking me into his house, or into a basement and forcing themselves on me. I don't know if this happened because I was so little, I don't know whether It is just a nightmare that has stuck with me my whole life, or a very distant memory.
I didn't have my first kiss until I was 16, the same person was also the person I lost my virginity to also. My first time, we were fooling around and he just 'slipped' in. I told him to stop straight away, and he did. During the relationship I always felt like he was only happy when I pleasured him or had sex with him, and consequently it would happen often. I felt like I owed it to him and was sometimes coerced into sex. Later, after we broke up, he told his friends that I was the one that forced him into sex. I've never felt pain like that before. I felt so betrayed and used, because during the course of the relationship I felt like I had been the one that was being forced into it, and of course, his friends believed him over me, and I think that so did mine.
In school, a boy once ran up to me from behind and grabbed/squeezed my boobs and wouldn't let go. I kept shouting at him and there were people around but he took a long time to get off of me. I reported him, nothing was done.
I'm now 21, and my first relationship shaped my outlook on sex and relationshipsas a result. At 17, I began casually messaging a 22 year old. He was popular on instagram in my town and me and my friends looked up to him. I thought I was cool, because an older guy was interested in me. He took advantage of me on multiple occasions. I had JUST turned 17. We were sat in his car at the beach and he began making sexual advances on me; specifically to my feet. I just didn't understand it at the time because it wasn't obvious to a 17 year old who knew little about fetishes. I didn't say no, because I was in his car, at night. I felt like I had no choice but to say yes. This happened on multiple occasions, he would invite me over to his house for seemingly innocent reasons, but in the end he only had one goal. I recall one time being at his house, we had just got McDonald's and we were sat eating it in his living room watching TV, as friends, since he made it clear he had no interest in me other than in a sexual manner. This was a fair few months or maybe even a year after the first time. He started making moves on me and I panicked and told him I wanted to go home, If I didn't, I'm sure that he would've guilted me into having sex with him. Even as recent as last summer, he messaged me asking me if I'd like to go out for dinner, I freaked out and asked if he was asking me out for a date - he said no, that it would be just as friends and I went because I believed him, that it was just two old friends hanging out. The meal was fine, awkward but fine; but then we went to get ice cream; it was very cold outside so we sat in his car eating it. He started touching my face, squeezing my cheeks and started putting his hand on my thigh. I laughed it off, and told him to stop. He kept trying to do it after I told him to stop multiple times. I was nowhere near to home so I had no choice but stay in his car. He asked about where should we go next, and I pretended that I needed something from Tesco, specifying that it's the one near my house, so that if he continued to make me feel uncomfortable, I could walk home. In the end, I know that I shouldn't have given him all these chances, even as a friend, but I thought of him as harmless and just socially awkward, lacking social cues.
I’m a 2nd year student now and I was sexually harassed I would say 95% of the nights out I had in first year to the point where I had to ask my male friends to kind of form a human shield around me or ask them to pretend to be my boyfriend, or to ask my friends to pretend they were my girlfriend. I really struggle to remember a night where I wasn’t harassed in some form and this would be in the form of people grabbing my waist, dancing up close to me, touching my bum, trying to kiss me, and then other stuff like asking if I had a boyfriend and when I’d say yes they’d say it was a shame because we could do something sexual etc. One particular night at Thompson’s though I noticed a boy was harassing multiple girls, he then came up behind me and squeezed and I mean SQUEEZED my bum whilst laughing and then walked away to the side and watched for my reaction. He wasn’t with any friends he was literally by himself. For around a month after I wouldn’t go on any nights out (and we’d normally go twice or three times a week) because I was genuinely traumatised. I’d been sexually harassed loads of times in clubs before from when I started going out when I was 16 (I know that’s against the law being underage but still didn’t justify harrassment!!!) and it was pretty common e.g the hand on waist as I’m sure most of us have experienced but this really hit me because the guy knew what he was doing and almost seemed to enjoy the reaction? When I was able to go on nights out again a month later I had panic attacks for a good few weeks after that when I was choosing what to wear because I thought it might happen again if I wore a skirt even though I was wearing long trousers and trainers whenever it happened. It really deeply traumatised me and it still does when I think about it, I don’t know why it hit me so hard because I know girls have gone through much worse but I think it was just the fact that he watched me for my reaction and I saw his face so clearly and also watched him do it to other girls with no interference from bouncers. It was truly truly horrific.
When I was 13 me and my friends were followed around the city centre for around 30 minutes until police stopped us and made us aware and then informed us that the man was a known pedophile and that they were investigating him, it happened again to one of the same friends who was there and myself by the same man but on separate occasions, he followed her in town and he followed me when I got off the bus. Once after a night out I was walking home and I was followed by a car of men who slowed down, I phoned the police and they stayed on the phone to me until I was able to get to the station and then they phoned me a taxi and gave me money to make sure I got home safe.
When I was in first year one of my classmates said he was going to rape me and obviously my parents and the school was informed and I had to see a counsellor and it was terrifying but all they did was make him move seats.
I’ve also been in situations before where I’ve been pretty much coerced into sexual activity, like when you say no and the boy kind of begs you to or doesn’t take no for an answer, by my ex boyfriend who when I said no said it was because I didn’t find him attractive (basically manipulated me into it) and another time I was really drunk and the guy was sober. We ended up having sex which I think I consented to but I honestly can’t remember. It plays on my mind a lot because I was really highly intoxicated and he was stone cold sober, he didn’t drink because he played football but he still went ahead with it? I don’t want to say it wasn’t consensual because I don’t actually remember if it was but the fact that he was sober and I wasn’t honestly sends shivers down my spine, I was 17 at the time.
When I was 17 I was walking home from night school as I had argued with my mum. There was a man following me; when I stopped, he stopped. He. Didn't seem to care that I knew, only enjoying I was scared. I briskly walked to the nearest house and quietly begged them to let me use their phone.
When I've been to visit my sister in London, I've been flashed and cornered on the train.
I left my first uni because I was raped in my room when my lock broke. I told the uni, and they still found ways to blame me. 'If you didn't want him in your room, why didn't you barricade it?'. I asked my rapist why and he said 'you Spanish people are always so hot tempered. You're so sexy, though I needed to take you down a peg'.
Another time I was at my first uni, I was in a team of 4 with 3 other men. They didn't want to investigate the history of women because 'why would we want to learn about their bleeding habits?'. The same team told me when we were assigning roles that my job was to 'make tea (for them) and look pretty'. It got a laugh out of everyone, including one from my tutor and I felt so uncomfortable.
I was walking to work, in broad daylight. It was a sunny day and I thought I would try to be positive. There was a group of men I would see on my way there usually; they had offered me drugs before but I refused and moved on to the chorus of jeers and slurs behind me. This time, I saw them on bikes and decided I wouldn't let them intimidate me. One of them grabbed me and tried to kiss me. I yelled and screamed and hit him to get him off me. It drew the attention of a woman by the bus, who joined in with me to draw attention to it. They ran off then, calling me a slut on their way.
And then there my ex. Who stole my sight and told me I deserved it. Who controlled my finances and told me I was a leech because I spent money on my hobbies. I thought he loved me and that was just how a relationship should be. Ups and downs. It isn't though, it shouldn't ever be like that. I finally ended it when he made too many ''jokes'' at my expense, including 'well she isn't a good woman, she doesn't even rub my feet!' I wish I had ended it sooner, but at least I got out of the situation
Thankfully I don't have any experiences of being assaulted, thank god. However, the discomfort, heightened awareness and stress of walking in Belfast when it's dark is just such an everyday occurrence for so many people (or it was before the pandemic). Veering away from groups of men, speeding past without making eye contact, always looking over my shoulder, the piercing stab of fear when you hear a man shouting and you think he's shouting at you when you're out on your own and it's dark, the stress of that walk from Botanic to city centre when it's late and quiet and there are creepy people about, the terror when you think you're being followed. I'm pretty sure that these things are a common experience of every woman at Queen's. The reality is that, as women in Belfast (or literally anywhere else!) we literally live our lives looking over our shoulders and being on high alert, looking for danger. It's such a scary world!
Basically what happened to me was that I was at a festival with my friend (obviously very drunk) and we got separated. I ended up walking around trying to find a bus stop on my own at 2/3 in the morning - my phone had died so I couldn’t call an Uber to get home. I was walking down the road and this guy came up to me and kept talking to me even though I made it clear I wasn’t interested. No one else was around so I was obviously scared he would do something. He kept trying to talk to me and told me I looked sexy etc. and he kept trying to grope me and finger me and kept asking if he could have a kiss. I said “no” and tried to walk away but he kept persisting, so I told him to fuck off and he continued to follow me down the street. This went on for a while and I eventually found a shop that was open, so I thought I would be safer if I went in as I thought there would be CCTV and people around. He followed me into the shop and kept trying to kiss me/grope me even though there were shop staff around. I asked someone working in the shop if they could charge my phone so I could call an Uber home, but didn’t feel brave enough to say “hey this horrible man is bothering me and he won’t leave me alone” (I think it was all men working in the shop so maybe that made a difference). Thankfully they charged my phone for me (the guy followed me around the shop the whole time, still bothering me, even though I had made it very clear I did not want to be kissed or touched and told him I had a boyfriend). The Uber came and he tried to get in with me so again, I told him to fuck off and went home. I felt really horrible and gross about it for ages afterwards and told my boyfriend, who said I should report it. I didn’t think reporting it would do anything and I felt embarrassed that it had happened and felt like it was “my fault” for being drunk and wearing revealing clothing. This happened about 2 years ago when I was 21 and obviously everything that’s being brought up at the moment has made me realise that was obviously not okay and not my fault! I also thought that because he wasn’t violent and didn’t try and have sex with me it didn’t really count as sexual assault. I felt really let down by the guys in the shop that were working who didn’t do anything about it or tell him to get out, as I was clearly in distress and trying to get away from this person. Not to mention countless of other times I’ve been pestered by men for a kiss in a nightclub and just gone along with it to avoid causing trouble because I’ve been drunk.
My abuser was someone I would’ve called my best friend, we hung out often, had deep conversations and generally just had a laugh. I have never felt a sexual connection between me and him, no advances were made on either part. We were simply friends.
Just like any other day we were in touch and I happened to mention we were starting to drink about 7pm in Botanic and then having a bit of a get together at the house, he said he was working and the conversation moved on. Whilst he was in work he kept saying how he didn’t want to go home after work so I suggested him coming to mine after instead because I thought he’d enjoy meeting my housemates and having a drink; he said he wasn’t drinking because he was driving. I offered the sofa but he said it would be fine. Once he arrived I handed him a can, which he accepted and drank. He was getting on grand with my friends and having a laugh, I was actually thinking about how glad I was for inviting him and how it was nice to see him properly laugh. As it got into the early hours of the morning people started filtering off and leaving or else going to bed until there were four of us left. I remember sitting on the sofa beside him with my housemate and his friend opposite us. My housemates friend had drank with us before and me being the only single housemate it was the ongoing joke that we were going to end up together. We all sat chatting for a while and laughing at how drunk I was because I was slurring my words, my housemate asking me over and over again what I was saying and laughing because he didn’t know what I was talking about. Once I came around a bit I announced I was going to bed and my housemate asked “who’s sleeping where?” I said that my friend was sleeping on the sofa as I was unaware that my housemates friend was also staying over. My housemates joked “oooooh ***** is getting her hole tonight” excitedly as at the time I had recently ended with someone else. The sofa was far from comfortable so I said that I was not having my best friend sleeping on the sofa just so I could sleep with a boy so I offered for him (my abuser) to stay in my room instead. I went upstairs and got changed into my pyjamas and then got into bed, I then text him to say it was okay for him to come up as I would’ve felt uncomfortable changing in front of him. He came up and got into bed and started spooning me, I didn’t think anything of it. He then moved his hand up to under my face and turn it towards him and kissed me. I looked at him and asked what he was doing, he didn’t say anything and carried on kissing me. He then proceeded to grind on me and grope me. I stayed silent. He took off my shorts and got on top of me. It took me a while to process what was going on and when I did I started crying and only then did he stop. He asked me if I was okay and I just dismissed it and he went to sleep. The next morning I woke up without any clothes on, I must’ve woke him too because he moved to get out of my bed, the duvet moved with him and I flinched and grabbed the duvet to put around me and he huffed “oh my god i’m not going to do anything”. This was about 8:30am, I asked him why he was leaving so early and he said he felt he had overstayed his welcome. He knew he had done wrong, he left and I cut contact.
Since my assault I have felt a lot of anger towards myself more than anything, I would have prided myself on being a very headstrong individual and if there was something to be said, you bet I would say it, but the fact I didn’t fight back or even open my mouth I felt ashamed that I, almost 21 couldn’t shut down a 19 year olds advantages. The thought of even going near another guy made me feel physically ill or when a guy would make a slightly suggestive comment I just shut down because what if I gave them the wrong idea? What if they wouldn’t stop?
I was also in shock that someone I considered my best friend completely betrayed my trust and disrespected me like that. To me what makes it worse is that in the past I had opened up to him about a previous assault, him knowing about it yet him raping me is something I couldn’t comprehend.
I was due to start university the October after I was assaulted which I became extremely anxious about as it was somewhere completely new where i knew no one, which on one hand was daunting because any of them could have any intentions whereas on the other hand it was my best friend that raped me, not someone random, someone I would’ve trusted my life with. I ended up going to university and have met some great people but I still go to bed earlier than my flat, lock my bedroom door and take myself out of situations where I feel are too many guys, just incase.
As a woman I can mark my life through the times I have experienced sexual assault and harassment.
The first time I was sexually harassed I was 11. It was one of those hot sunny days that grace Northern Ireland in September and the school day had just finished. Too warm in my uniform I paused as I got to the train platform to remove my jumper, as I placed my blazer back on, I heard the yells of “Strip” and looked up to the group of older boys standing at the adjacent platform. They were seniors at my school, since I was a first year and had only started, I could not recognise any of their faces. I kept walking with my music on attempting to ignore them, but they kept yelling at me, “Strip! Take it off! Fuck you!”. As I navigated myself to the timetable at the shelter to distract myself through my tears, all I could think of was why none of the adults surrounding me were saying anything. I was an 11-year-old girl crying as she tried to ignore being hollered at and no one thought to say anything to these boys. When I got home, I told my parents about the situation however the school was unable to proceed with any form of discipline as I could not give them names, I offered to point them out if they had photographs of the students but apparently that only happens in the movies and the situation was never addressed again.
When I was 14 I attended a concert with some friends, among us there was an older boy, he was 18. During the concert he went behind each of us as we danced, I remember him putting his hands on my hips and directing my body to grind on him. I did not know this was wrong, I was just having fun, then he moved his hands to my ass, and he groped me. I was only 14 but I knew I was not okay with this, so I moved his hands. When I did that, he moved down the line of all the girls to the girl who would not move his hands. I discovered at 14 my body was to be used how men wanted to and I did not get to set the boundaries.
At 19 I attended another concert, it was a smaller venue, and I was with my best friend, a boy. As we stood in the dark waiting for the artist, I felt a body come behind me and assault me. I froze, I was confused, and I was scared. I never turned around to see who it was deciding not knowing was more comforting to me. Instead, I mentioned it to my friend after some time had passed to which he replied, “I noticed that”. At the time of that response, I felt upset and almost betrayed, as I have grown I realise the situation was more complicated and I would rather have not had the moment escalated as it could have if he had reacted. I cannot help but wonder when I think back on that night if the perpetrator knew me, if they had gone around the entire venue that night targeting any girl he could.
When I left Northern Ireland for university, I felt a level of freedom I had not experienced before, I thought that the worse was behind me and I could concentrate on growing as a person. Instead, while at university, I was raped twice. The first rape occurred at 21, my boyfriend at the time was in my room with me one night and I had stated to him that I did not want to do anything as I was too tired. I am not sure what he heard when I said that but he proceeded to grope me before eventually turning me so I was lying half off the bed and raping me. I lay in the dark with tears rolling off my face and onto the floor, completely silent and hoping he would finish soon so I could sleep. The morning after he commented how “Last night was fun!” I paused and looked at him before telling him I had not actually wanted to do anything last night. In response to this he scoffed at me and told me I should have been more clear. Despite this incident, we remained together, and I moved into a house with him where we shared a bed and the same duvet which he had raped me in. We broke up briefly, but the relationship was so co-dependent and toxic I ended up going back to him. He assaulted me once more in bed during this time, however this time my response was to flee, not freeze. I went down to the bathroom and cried for 10 minutes before going back upstairs and back into bed with him not knowing how I was meant to get out of this situation.
The second rape did exactly that when I was 22. After an argument and going on a break with my boyfriend at the time, I went out with a friend to a concert where we met two other boys we knew. I spent the night laughing and drinking and forgetting about the fact my boyfriend would be returning from his trip with university. Then the night turned, I remember the concert ending, then we were walking into a club, then we were in the club, then I was back in my room, and then I woke up. My drink had been spiked at one point in the night, and I woke up in my bed, once again raped but with three other people. After they left my boyfriend wanted to talk but I was just so exhausted and defeated so I told him to just say it, and he finally broke up with me.
Despite us breaking up I had to continue living with him for a further 9 months, in which I endured comments, unwanted psychical contact and essentially an impossible environment to process the events I had just experienced. With both instances I did not recognise them as rape immediately – in fact it took me to 2020 to realise I had been raped by my boyfriend at university as opposed to assaulted. The second rape was somewhat easier to recognise but it took me over 3 months to do so. Again, I found myself living with my rapist as they were a friend, but by some grace of God, she preferred living with her boyfriend at the time, so I was able to process the events without her present. However, to do this I ultimately removed myself from our mutual friendship group, I was so scared of ruining their final year and tainting it for them that I chose to leave university early and complete my studies at home as I had no exams to sit. I remember feeling bittersweet at graduation when I saw them laughing together, I feel like I robbed myself of what should have been a moment of shared comradery, but I was happy they were able to cherish that moment and can look back on it.
Sexual assault and harassment have littered my life, these are not the full experiences I have had. I have endured having cars slowly cruise by me as I walk to the bus stop in my school uniform, I have had boys look in through the glass of doors when changing at school, I have had a boy throw his gym shorts over my head when I was 15, I have had catcalls from cars, I have had unwanted attention from customers and co-workers while on shift – since the age of 11 I have experienced some level of harassment and assault. I am exhausted. All I ask is that men come take the weight women have beared for you since they were being called “underaged” instead of girls.
These 10 stories are just the tip of the iceberg. Most of these, are from my friends and fellow QUB students. Men need to do better. Women, that find excuses for men, need to do better. Our system needs to do better.
Indeed, it's 'not all men', but it's way too many, and it certainly is most women, if not all.
Me Too Movement. 'Get To Know Us'. Available at: https://metoomvmt.org/get-to-know-us/history-inception/ (Accessed on 12/03/21).
Rape Crisis, England and Wales, 2016. 'Statistics about sexual violence'. Available at: https://rapecrisis.org.uk/get-informed/about-sexual-violence/statistics-sexual-violence/ (Accessed on 12/03/21).
Topping, A., 2021. 'Almost all young women in the UK have been sexually harassed, study finds'. The Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2021/mar/10/almost-all-young-women-in-the-uk-have-been-sexually-harassed-survey-finds (Accessed on 12/03/21).
