#there were a lot of scenes that could've used music but didnt have any or where the music choice was ill-fitting imo

[gracie--olive]

me too

I met Ryan at work. I loved all the people I worked with, we were all around the same age and got on so well. We used to call ourselves a family. A group of us used to go out for drinks after work a lot - Ryan included. We grew closer during those evenings. We bonded over things we had in common - music, films and a similar sense of humour. We exchanged phone numbers and what started off friendly getting to know each other became flirty and personal. Ryan and I would text almost constantly, even when we were both working, from one end of the room to the other.

I had a boyfriend at this time, Pete. We'd been together a little over a year, but he had slept with his ex 8 months in. We broke up at the time for a couple of weeks, but I told Pete I forgave him and we got back together. I missed him despite what he had done, but in hindsight, I hadn't fully got over it.

Over text, Ryan and I would talk about his unhappiness with his girlfriend - he said she was controlling and emotional. He felt trapped, they had a young son together. In turn I told him about my most recent relationship drama. I felt like I had someone I could talk to freely. My closest friends had gone to university, I was humiliated and hurt over what had happened with Pete. I could've have called and told them, but I couldn't bring myself to. It was easy to talk to Ryan, perhaps because he was a new person in my life. I didn't have to live up to anything.

A month or so passed like this. Nothing happened between Ryan and I physically, but that's not to say what I was doing was right. I was hiding my messages from Pete, staying out later and later with my friends from work, lying about who I was with and where I was going, and sharing secret looks with Ryan when we thought no one else was looking. My relationship with Pete suffered. I justified what I was doing by telling myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong, that it was harmless, nothing compared to what he had done. He tried so hard to earn my trust back, passing up nights out with his friends to appease me. I continued to punish him for his mistake, all the while continuing my emotional affair with Ryan. I broke up with Pete again. This time he was devastated, he thought our relationship was strengthening and we were working on regaining trust. I was a coward, I didn't tell him there was someone else. I told him it was his infidelity that I couldn't move past. Ryan had told me he'd left his girlfriend a couple of weeks previously, and was staying with family. He was seeing his son sporadically, Katie was being difficult. I felt indifferent towards her. He'd told me they had problems before, I wasn't the reason they broke up. I reassured myself with this when I felt guilty.

Ryan and I started meeting alone after work. We shared a few kisses, but nothing more. We thought we were being discreet, but our colleagues had started to notice. I thought as we were both single it wouldn't be a problem, but Ryan wanted to keep it quiet. He told me he was going for a promotion and didn't want our relationship to jeopardise it. I understood this, and was more than happy to keep it between us. Pete was still trying to contact me, convinced I was seeing someone else. I didn't want to upset him, and told him it wasn't true. Ryan got his promotion, and switched to a new office. We still spoke a lot, and he came and picked me up from my house a few times so we could spend time together. On one occasion he brought his son with him, and we went for dinner. I was a little taken aback, but ultimately ok with it. It made me feel mature, and like our relationship had potential to develop into something real.

My office worked closely with others in the area, and we had a big night out together planned. Ryan suggested getting a hotel for the night. We'd only been seeing each other a couple of weeks, but I'd known him much longer and I felt comfortable with it. More than that, I felt excited. He booked and paid for the room, and said I could use it to get ready after work, and then we could go back there together at the end of the night. I was still in contact with Pete. Before we broke up we'd booked a holiday together, and he was using it as an excuse to talk. I still hadn't told him what was going on. I technically wasn't doing anything wrong anymore - we weren't together - but I didn't want to hurt him. Ryan knew all this, and was supportive. He said maybe we could go on holiday together instead.

On the night, I had so much fun with everyone, dancing and drinking and laughing. I didn't talk to Ryan much. I thought as he had his promotion and we were spending the night together he would've spent more time with me, but I was having fun, and shrugged it off. He mostly stood at a table talking to people and watching me. I remember thinking, maybe it's not his scene, perhaps prefers pubs to bars and clubs. I told a friend, Adam, about the hotel, and he told me to be careful. I remember saying that I was fine, I liked Ryan.

The next I remember after that was being walked through a tunnel, with Ryan and Adam holding me up. I couldn't stand by myself. I didnt think I'd had that much to drink. I remember Adam laying me on the bed, still fully clothed, while Ryan stood at the door. My eyes were closed. I felt Adam's weight lift off the bed to leave. I heard him say, don't try anything tonight, she needs to sleep, she's in a bad way. Ryan agreed. What a nice guy, I thought.

I woke up with my wrists pinned above my head. Ryan inside me. My first thought, despite what was happening was - how did we get to this? I couldn't remember. I tried to move but he shook his head and smiled. I'll remember that forever. I blacked out again.

When I woke in the morning, I was naked and disorientated. Ryan was getting dressed. He left with few words, and I sent him a text apologising for being so drunk.

I went to work, but I was in pain. I confided in my female line manager - she suggested it could be a UTI, and told me to go to hospital. The nurse who examined me questioned the bruises blossoming around my legs, and the friction-burn-like marks inside me. I didn't know what to say. I mumbled that I couldn't remember, embarrassed. She called another nurse over, who asked if I wanted to talk to anyone. I said I didn't. She gave me cream for my sores and told me to go home and rest. Even then, I didn't realise. I wondered if he'd given me a disease. Had he worn a condom? I didn't know, I couldn't remember.

I had texted Ryan a couple of times on the way home without a reply. I tried to call and he didn't answer. After I rang off, he text me almost immediately. He said he'd spoken to Katie, who said she had seen me that day. Apparently I'd hurled abuse at her, told her everything that had happened between Ryan and I, including that I had spent time with their son. She's lying, I replied furiously. I'd been at the hospital, I hadn't seen anyone. I tried to call him but he didn't answer, instead texting me telling me not to contact him again.

At work the next day, a friend of Ryan's - Lewis - approached me. He knew Ryan well, they had gone to school together. He said Ryan and Katie had never broken up, and Ryan had told Lewis that I was a one night stand, that he'd made a stupid mistake. I tried to protest, but he didn't believe me. I could've showed the messages or told him about the hotel but it would've been pointless. He was Ryan's close friend, and in any case he'd already made up his mind. Ryan told me he thought I was disgusting for what I said to Katie- something that never happened, and that I now believe he made up himself. Katie had nothing to do with it and knew nothing about us. Directly after all this, more than anything else I was embarrassed by what had happened. Ryan told people we slept together, that I'd lost my temper when he didn't want anything more and tried to ruin his relationship with lies. I didn't try to defend myself, to tell anyone the truth about us, or the little I could remember of that night. I didn't want to, I had no desire to relive what had happened, how uneasy the whole thing had made me feel and the shame and humiliation that went with it. I stayed with the company for a few years, and would still hear whispers at work events about me, what I'd allegedly said and done. That I was easy. More than once colleagues from other offices tried to touch me, or said inappropriate things when we were alone. I ignored it, and pretended not to care about any of it. I never spoke to Ryan again.

I didn't see myself as a victim, I didn't want to. I told myself in the weeks after that I just couldn't remember what had happened, we'd had sex, I must have wanted to. I was in denial. I know now. Ryan couldn't have known if I wanted to have sex with him because I was unconscious. I pushed what happened to the back of my mind. I didn't let myself think about it for a long time. I was scared to think about it, because if I thought too hard I would realise. I buried it, not wanting to admit the truth to myself, not wanting to feel like a victim. I didnt feel like I deserved sympathy, I knew Ryan, I had gone out drinking, I had agreed to the hotel. This was something that happened to women in the news, not to me. I would read articles about women stalked in the night and think - that is rape. A terrifying attack down an alleyway or in an empty carpark, not a hazy memory with someone I knew.

A couple of things happened that changed the way I felt, and made me realise that in order to begin healing, I would have to accept what happened. I watched a series called 13 Reasons Why. I was completely unprepared for how emotional I would feel when one of the characters was violated the way that I was. She had been drinking, woke to him raping her. Someone she knew, someone she thought of as a friend. She lied to herself and those around her to save the pain of facing it. I could identify with that.

Worse than a fictional character though, one of my best friends was sexually assaulted. She couldn't do more than confirm it to me, but she was brave enough to talk to her family and other friends, her boyfriend. I broke for her when I found out, and I wanted to tell her what happened to me, to tell her that she could survive and move on, but I couldn't. I wasn't brave enough, and I'm still not. And anyway, how could I say those things when I've never properly dealt with it myself? Even now I worry she wouldn't believe me.

I'm nervous when I'm out alone at night, but sadly I think most women are. My obstacles are in my day-to-day mentality. I struggle to trust anyone new as genuine. I question their motives. My self worth is low, I'm anxious when among new people and I second guess everything I say and do. My sex drive disappears for weeks at a time, despite being happy in my relationship. I agonise for days about trivial things, I replay conversations in my head. I think I'm seen among friends and family as outgoing, sociable and assertive, but I'm a prisoner in my own mind.

A few weeks after the incident, Pete and I got back together. We went back to how we were before his ex and before Ryan. We went on holiday, we went out, we had fun. He made me feel safe and cared for in a way that I had previously taken for granted. We've been together 8 years now. I have never told him a single thing about Ryan. I don't know if I will ever tell anyone close to me. I hoped that this would be therapeutic, and a way for me to get some closure.

When I was 19, I was raped. I've never said it out loud, not even to myself. But it happened, and I'm still here.

#metoo #survivor #13rw #my story