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Growing up I saw my dad beat my mum, I saw him try to drag her down the stairs by her hair and I saw him try to kill her. I saw him smash the house and the cars and break things we owned and loved. I saw my mum try to kill herself because of the abuse and I was the one who found her and saved her that day. I think I was 11. I saw the emotional abuse. The unfaithfulness and the violence. I saw the divorce. The lies. The other women. The discarded wedding rings. The abandonment. I didn’t understand why and I didn’t understand love.

Fast forward a few years

In 2009 I lost my virginity. Between 2009 and 2015 I slept with about 6 people and had a functional, happy 2 year relationship in that time too. I had positive experiences with boys generally but the reason the relationship ended was because of my depression. I couldn’t accept love anymore. I shut myself off. And I completely ruined it.

In 2015 I was sexually assaulted by two different men only months apart from each other. I use the term sexually assaulted because I really don’t like the word ‘rape’ I don’t feel valid enough to use that word. The ‘R’ word.

The first time it happened it was a fellow member of staff at my workplace. Slightly more senior than I. He started to kiss me but I pulled away and said no. He suddenly said that I drove him crazy and pushed me down onto my back. I was still fully clothed and so was he but he managed to move my underwear to a side. My arms were trapped under him as his full upper body was resting on mine while he presumably used his hands to undo his jeans. It hurt like hell. He asked me if I’d heard the stories about ‘black guys being bigger’ and grunted as he still put his full body weight onto me and kissed my neck. I managed to wiggle my arms free and pushed him off and started to make my way out the room at pace. He stood up and took hold of my arm and said “no don’t leave like that I’m sorry I thought you wanted to” and made me sit down. In my confusion for some reason I did sit and he sat next to me. After about 2 minutes he said something at me again and grabbed my face to kiss me pushing me into the bed once more. This time my arms were free and I was angry. I shoved him off and screamed “I SAID NO” and began to storm out of his flat. He started to follow me but never reached his front door. I took the lift down and luckily found a taxi in the street within seconds. I rode silently home. Once I got home I checked my phone. There was a message from him saying “let me know when you get home safe we should watch a movie sometime” I can’t remember going to bed that night. If I showered. If I got undressed. If I cried. It’s just blank.

The second time I’d been out with girl friends who’d met up with some other guy friends who were from out of town. They all seemed pretty harmless and didn’t make any advances during the night and we bought drinks in rounds. We all went back to my friends flat to eat food and go to bed. There was 6 of us in total I think. I put some leggings and a t shirt on for bed since there was boys in the room and climbed into bed. My friend lived in a studio flat so we were all in one room 3 on the floor 3 in the bed. My friend said she was too warm in the bed so moved to the floor and one of the guys climbed into the middle. He was fully dressed and we were all tired and readying for sleep so I thought nothing of it. There wasn’t really much room or options unless you wanted to climb in the bath. I dozed and realised I’d been sleeping but was now half awake. I’d had strange dreams and could feel someone moving next to me. But then I realised they weren’t next to me and as I got my bearings I realised the boy in the bed had shimmied my leggings down while I was facing away from him and had started having sex with me in my sleep. I was frozen solid for some reason for what felt like a lifetime but couldn’t have been more than a minute. I shuffled away from him and pulled up my leggings. For some reason I didn’t shout or make a fuss I was so tired and confused and wasn’t really sure what had been happening. I got up to go use the bathroom and sat there for a little while deciding if I’d just been raped or not. We’re so ingrained that these things will “never happen to us” or are our fault somehow I couldn’t be sure what was going on. Again. But differently this time. Does rape come in many forms?

When I came back in the room there was lights on and the boys had decided for no real reason that they were going to leave now, in the early hours of the morning. They left and one of my friends climbed back in the bed with me. I laid there and said “he had sex with me while I slept” the only time I’ve ever verbalised it. Nobody reacted. I lay awake in confusion but eventually fell asleep. Nobody brought it up the next day. I’ve never spoken about it since

The boy who had sex with me while I slept was a police officer. I didn’t think there was anything I could do.

In 2016 I had sex with 6 guys. The same amount of people I’d slept with in 6 years I slept with in one. It was all consensual I was always in charge. I drove them crazy. Treated them like objects. I realise I wanted to exert my right to say yes. To use men in ways I’d been used but in my case they all wanted to have sex with me I just derived my power from the sexual control you can exert as a woman. I took a guy back to a hotel after my graduation and we fucked so rough there was blood on the sheets the next day and neither of us knew who or what from but I’d wanted it and I’d enjoyed it. My soul had died that year. I didn’t af any point feel any ounce of affection towards a boy and I didn’t care for theirs. A boy left roses on my doorstep around this time and it meant nothing to me. Nothing meant anything to me. I just wanted their time and their sex and then nothing else. I wanted to have control.

At the end of 2016 I met my now ex boyfriend and I realised I wanted to feel something again and I liked him. I poured energy, time and effort into him and the first time we slept together was great. He was so caring and I remembered what it’s meant to be like. The relationship didn’t last very long but for other reasons he just wasn’t really into me in the end but it made me remember what feeling was like. In the end he left me empty because he gave me nothing emotionally and I gave him everything. I was exhausted.

Men have stripped me of my ability to enjoy sex and to enjoy emotions. The ability to trust and to feel and to not fear them. I feel awful that I don’t trust men because it is such a select few that have done this to me but it’s so hard to feel worth anything to anyone you just make assumptions sometimes. I’ve recently started dating again and it’s absolutely terrifying. I can’t tell if I’m feeling nothing or I’m feeling everything all at once I keep guys at an arms length for a long time because I’m so damn scared and it eventually leads to them losing interest but I’m not brave enough to explain why because I worry they view me as damaged goods.

I’ve never spoken about my experiences in such a way before but I’ve been really and completely bogged down with emotions about it this week and if I didn’t write it somewhere I think I would just explode.

I don’t see myself ever moving past this point that I’m at with myself and my thoughts towards men and I can see it leading to me being alone for a long time if not forever.

Should I cry? No