SUPPORT for victims of sexual assault thread - mod warning post #1

This is a myth that needs to be dispelled. Plenty of dangerous men appear "hot, sexy and nice". It has nothing to do with appearance. None of this does.

True and I agree there, I should have clarified myself better. I see kind caring men as sexy and I wanted to convey that a nice man wouldn't do that stuff to a woman.

I've been lurking on this thread for weeks now and until now I've convinced myself that my story wasn't important or serious enough to post. I had a bit of a flashback today at work about something I hadn't thought about for years. I think it was a result of reading this thread and it's something I want to get off my chest.

This will be long I warn you.
My parents split up when I was very young and my mother, to put it mildly, has always had her head in the clouds as regards relationships. She was unused to country living and all the ****e that goes with it. So for starters, she has an affair with a much older married man. That's not all. Another man involved in the local community started 'helping' us. Well you know what he wanted from a single mother. And he got it, many years later my mother said she 'felt sorry' for him. He would 'tickle' me and slap me if I was 'bold'. I was under seven. He was dirty ignorant old man. I never felt hatred like I did when I was a small girl towards him. He would call over on Sunday nights and take over our living room and jig his legs and hit the table. I dreaded Sunday nights. He died when I was about 14 or so, at this stage he had not been to our house for many years. I was not sorry when he died.

My mother talked it over with the man she had the affair with when I was about 17. In front of me. Saying it was 'obvious he got a thrill out of it'. I genuinely think she hasn't a notion about what abuse does to a person. I couldn't believe she had let this man in our home.

Another man would squeeze my thigh and rubbish like that when I was about 14. To his credit he stopped when I began to cry one day.

I have never had much luck with boys, but I have been blessed (cursed?) with a good figure. Many of my sexual experiences have entailed me feeling used and like crap. I've always consented however. (And there have been some great ones too to be fair )

A few years back, one night I got so hammered I met some guy I knew from college. A good looking guy I had quite fancied, that I thought was the shy retiring type. All I remember is being led from the nightclub by him to my house. I don't know if we had sex. I will never know what happened that night. Was he in the wrong? Maybe his judgement was too clouded by alcohol. Was I in a fit state to consent? I don't think so. What is worse that my two best friends at the time watched me go and didn't say a word.

So that's my story. I just had to get it off my chest. It's sad what all this has done to my view of relationships. I have had one relationship and I was so devastated when it ended- almost because my final, minuscule hope that Prince Charming was meant for me was extinguished- that I have done everything since to avoid intimacy. I am cynical and jaded. I act the classic role of the 'man'- I don't call, I don't text, the second I sleep with a man I feel panicked that I might have to have a relationship with him. I look at my friends with loving, decent boyfriends and I wonder is that ever meant for me. It feels like I will be forever stuck with the toads, but then I can't force myself to give the odd prince a chance.

I am not brave enough to post this under my username, but I want to share my story nonetheless.

Yes, I do think I've been sexually assaulted. I know that I have. When I was 18 years old, I naively shared a bed with one of my close male friends. We had been friends since we were 4 years old and I thought that I could trust him: I was wrong.
While I was sleeping (or at least, he thought I was sleeping - I woke up and was frozen by fear), he undressed me and assaulted me. It was only when he climbed on top of me that I found the strength to push him off and leave the room.

I didn't stay silent. I told my friends who were in the apartment and none of them reacted the way I thought they would. This boy had tried to rape me and had molested me in the process and yet, somehow, that was...ok? Justifications were thrown around that he had had too much to drink, or didn't know what he was doing. I was asked if I had done something to encourage him (how does one encourage something while asleep?). He said he couldn't remember anything happening and there was no sense of outrage towards him.

Nothing remotely sexual had ever happened between this boy and I. We had never flirted, let alone kissed, and yet somehow the immediate reaction (of my male friends, at least), was that I must have done something to provoke him. Eventually they saw sense and broke off contact with him, but only after he admitted that he did remember the event taking place and had done it because he "felt like it" and I "was there".

I'm not sure which has hurt me more: the act itself or the aftermath. I think mostly the aftermath, though. What happened has made me somewhat afraid of sexual experiences. I find it harder to trust men and I become detached from myself in intimate situations (of which I'd had none before it happened and have had few since). The aftermath, though, has left me so very angry. I'm angry with anyone I've told, because none of them have reacted with what I really needed: anger. Anger that this boy thought that because I was there beside him, he had the right to take advantage of me, humiliate me and degrade me.

My self-esteem, which was never that solid, has hit an all-time low and even though what happened took place over two years ago, I am not over it. I am in counselling for the impact it has had on all parts of my life. It affected my relationship with my mother, my friendships, my school work and my self image.

I know that people are trying to help when they say "it could have been worse". I know that it could have been worse and that I could have been raped, which is a horrendous thing to happen to anyone. But being told that made me suppress my pain for too long. It has taken me a very long time to accept that I am entitled to feel what I'm feeling and be upset at what happened to me.

If I'm being honest, I spent quite some time wishing that I had been raped, because then there wouldn't be this grey area. (I know that that's a horrible thing to wish and I'm really not trying to make light of rape.) Sexual assault is not something that is taken very seriously in this country. I did not go to the Gardaí because I was afraid of how I would be treated in a legal case, but also by the people in my town. I'm not saying that the Gardaí would not have been supportive and the legal system wouldn't have helped me, but the perception of how it might be worse to say something than nothing is very scary, even if it's not true.

boomkatalog wrote: »

I completely forgot about something I was taught in my early teens until reading some posts in here.

I was a member of a county diocesen youth society in my teens and we had weekly meetings where we hung out and talked about various issues young people deal with, drug abuse, alcohol, sex etc.

One week we (both guys and girls) were given a lengthy talk about girls who were 'rape bait', dressing like sluts and basically 'asking for it'. The idea was to teach us girls not to look slutty, to keep ourselves safe. I'm actually a bit in shock now thinking back, at the time I was so young I just accepted it but its absolutely terrifying that anyone could justify rape under any terms!

Oh my God. My mouth literally just dropped open. :eek: Holy shit.