Submission from a reader, aged 18 from the UK

This post is a submission from an incredibly strong person, who emailed me with their story of experiencing sexual violence. I feel so honoured to be trusted with this. 

The author's words are exactly as I received them. 

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I thank this blog for giving me the courage to speak out and put this down in writing for the first time.

This is not my secret and I am not ashamed anymore.

It was June 2011 and I was 15 years young and I was still a virgin.

It comes back to me in broken pieces, all the bits I tried so hard to forget, all the bits I blanked out, it makes it quite jumbled in my head, so forgive me if this is hard to read.

I was a silly teenager, always getting into trouble with my parents, and I'd just run away from home for the first time.
I'd been at a friends house, let's call him John, for a few days and we'd had a great party the night before, we were still buzzing and decided to see if anyone wanted to come over for a drink or two even though it was quite late, nothing major, just chilling. 

We only got one reply that night, a friend that I'd known for only a month or so, but because I was still on a good vibe from the night before and I was with John, who is to be quite honest is a strapping big lad, we decided that it'd be fine and we went to the park near John's house to chill and have a beer. 

It all started very quickly to me and as we sat on the bench taking in the moonlight and looking up at the stars, this friend, whom I shall call Sam, decided to show us what he was carrying with us in his backpack. 

This is where it starts to get fuzzy and that doesn't mean at all that I was drunk at the time, and I didn't take drugs at this point, neither does it mean that any of this is any less true. It was just my way of coping for so long. Try and forget. Never mention it. Pretend it didn't happen. But it did happen and I never forgot and now this is my time to talk about it, so I shall carry on.

I never used to be afraid of knives, as someone who is most comfortable in a kitchen even back then they never used to bother me, until then. He pulled out a knife pouch (I don't know what they are called, the things you put knives into and then roll up and tie?) and then carefully, removed several knives, I remember seeing his initials engraved into them, I remember seeing that a lot that night. 

John started laughing, joking that at least we wouldn't get mugged and walked off to put his bottle in the bin. 

That's when Sam stuck his hand down my pants. 

I didn't know what to do, I didn't want to cause a scene as he was balancing the knives in his hand right next to me, staring me down until John came back. 

So I left it, thought I'd tell John once Sam was gone, I was scared. 

Nothing else happened for an hour and we decided to call it a night. And then Sam asked if he could stay and John said yes even though I protested. 

I had been on the sofa and there were two, so me and Sam ended up sharing the living room. I pretended to go to sleep. 

He came over and he lay in front of me, I got up and moved, this happened maybe three, maybe four times.

Until he brought his backpack over and he took his knives out of it and placed one beside him as he lay down next to me again with one hand still on it. 

I've never been so terrified, I thought I was going to die right there on John's sofa.

It's strange how numb I feel talking about this now, no more tears, just empty, and now I've started thinking about it I'm remembering things I didn't remember before. It's become clear. 

I'm not going to go into all of the details, but I will say this, I always thought I'd be a fighter, it's horrible that as a young woman I'd had to think about such things before, I'd kick him in the groin, elbow up his jaw, that's what I'd prepared for in case I got into a situation walking home late one night or something. But I never thought it'd be like this. I never thought it'd be someone I knew and I never thought I wouldn't fight. 

I just lay there and I took every last jab of his disgusting pencil thin penis and every last touch of his revolting hands and all I could see was the knives in his backpack and the knife he had laying down next to him. 

Because I was scared. And I wasn't even thinking about myself anymore, I was scared for John and for what would happen if I screamed, what would happen if I called for help or fought back. 

And then I had cried myself into morning and he was still lying next to me and I cried myself into every morning after then until recently. 

I didn't tell John what had happened for a long time, I didn't tell anyone, because I was ashamed, I thought it was my fault, that I could have stopped it, that people wouldn't understand, because for a long time I didn't understand either. 

I didn't lose my virginity that night, for that was for me to lose later on with someone who cared about me and loved me, but I did lose a bit of my soul, my confidence and my trust, things that even now I'm still working on getting back. 

I saw Sam nearly every day for a year after that happened, we hung in the same circles, and he never spoke about it and although he tried talking to me again, I always ran away. 

I have spoken to people about it since, but never properly, never talked about it all and even then every time it has been painful and this shouldn't be something that I should have to live with, this isn't something I should be ashamed of. It's something that he should be ashamed of, something that should haunt him for the rest of his life. 

He raped me. 

Three words it took me so long to understand, three words it took me even longer to say. Three words that people who meet him should hear, that I hope nobody else who meets him will have to say. 

It might not be my secret, but it has affected and will still affect my life forever, I can't change that now, but I can choose to speak out about it. 

Around 90% of rapes on women are committed by known men* 

This was not my fault. 

This is not my secret. 

*http://www.rapecrisis.org.uk/commonmyths2.php

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I have so much love and respect for this person, and I am so grateful to them for sharing their story.

If you've come to the blog especially to read this submission, thank you. While you're here, please click here to have a look at the Contents page and read the other entries on (for example) child sexual abuse, "date rape", and sexual violence in the media.

If you would like to share your story anonymously on this blog, email me: thesearenotmysecrets@gmail.com. Remember: these are not our secrets.