Warning: This article contains information about sexual assault which some readers may find upsetting.
In the early hours of June 20th, while on holiday in Italy, I was raped. Following the assault, life went on. I didn’t have a choice. However, the impact of that night has continued to plague me for much longer.
Since the assault, I’ve had severe anxiety and speak to a counselor every week. I often get panic attacks, even from leaving the house alone. My attacker infiltrates my nightmares on a regular basis. I saw him as I left a lecture one Monday and didn’t attend university for the rest of the week. My stress has been so significant that I’ve had to interrupt my studies; I am now fighting to get funding for the extra time I’ll need to finish my degree.
Beyond all physical and emotional symptoms, my views on sex and relationships, which were once so positive, have completely changed. I had my first sexual encounter following the assault in August, with a partner I’d slept with multiple times before. He was the same but my experience with him was entirely different.
I came with a disclaimer
I had to tell him. How could I not? What if I had an adverse reaction to something completely normal? After telling my dad, telling him was one the scariest things I’ve ever done. What if he freaked out, deemed my attack to be “baggage” and cut things off? But he didn’t. He was wonderful and held me until I could bare to look him in the eyes, unable to believe that anybody could be capable of hurting a woman like that.
I panicked
As my partner touched me, I had a flashback to that night; to the attack, the fear and the pain. I felt vomit rising in my throat as I lay there. I panicked, I said “stop” and I shut down. I was terrified and completely overwhelmed but he stopped in an instant, like any real man would, and I felt a sense of control over my body I hadn’t felt in months.
Following my momentary lapse in ability to do anything except sit and shake, we engaged in an almost battle of who could apologise the most. Then we stopped and just talked until I was ready to try again.
I felt guilty
After I calmed down, we had sex again and it was good – really good. But how could I possibly be enjoying something that, just two months prior, had caused me so much pain? Shouldn’t I hate all men? Why could I have sex so easily when it takes so many survivors years to recover?
In hindsight, I think it’s because I trusted my partner but I still can’t fully comprehend how I flinched the other day when a man stood between my mother and I on an escalator yet allowed myself to be so vulnerable with another.
It was a victory
It was difficult and emotionally draining but, at the same time, empowered me in a way I had never felt before. It’s such an odd thing to say but I left my partner’s flat feeling so incredibly proud of myself. Never had the simple act of sex been so meaningful since I lost my virginity.
And as much as the “man” who raped me has surely changed me forever, he will not ruin me. I refuse to let him. There are good men in the world and with their patience, love and understanding, one day, sex will be NORMAL again.