Struggling Daisy

TW: rape, sex addiction, abuse, gas lighting

Just over a year ago, I was raped. Many times. Sometimes multiple times a day. The truth is, my rapist was my boyfriend.

We started dating in April. He was charming, and funny. He wasn’t from Australia, he had moved from England and had so many stories of his life over there. He opened up to me pretty much straight away, and I could sympathise with him, as someone who has had my own struggles with mental illness, I felt we would be able to help each other with our struggles. From early on it became apparent that he had a sex addiction, and soon enough he opened up to me about this too. It felt as though my purpose was to help him. He seemed ashamed and like he wanted to change.

It wasn’t long before he changed. I found that he would flip between charming and aggressive. He wanted sex, sometimes up to six times a day. Any sex would do, but anal was his favourite. The first time he raped me was the day after a music festival. We were hungover and I denied him sex for the first time. He flipped. He became aggressive and demanded that we have sex. He told me he would leave me if I didn’t give in, so I did, but told him no anal. Half way through he ignored my wishes and put it in anyway. It hurt. I cried in pain and he seemed to enjoy it more.

The first time I tried to leave him I thought he was going to kill me. I had woken up determined not to give in to his demands, I was ready to fight. I said no. He pinned me down, hands around my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I pinched him, which got him off me, and this was my opportunity to run. I didn’t get far down the hallway before he grabbed me and dragged me back to the bedroom by the hair. He took my car keys, he deadlocked the house. I was trapped, and he wouldn’t let me go until I let him have his way with my body.

For 4 months this carried on. But for over a year memories like these have haunted me. Rape and abuse are such taboo subjects, and as I’m writing this I’m realising that this is the first time I’ve properly talked about it. The people close to me kind of know, but I feel like a censor so much of it, because people feel bad when they hear stories like these. It affects me still, even when I feel like I’m completely over it, something will happen and it’s like I’m there in that dark place all over again. But it will get easier, and time will heal me. I’m so lucky and grateful to have a partner who treats me with so much respect, and who shows me so much love and kindness - it is something I never thought I would get.

I’m glad to get this off my chest, and I’m sorry if it’s brought up horrible feelings for any of you people reading it.