I’m a male in the north east of England. It’s difficult to talk about but I was raped. I’ve waited over 3 years to finally admit that to myself.
Since I am a male, many people dismissed me. The first person I told was my sister who helped me get into contact with the police but they wouldn’t assist me, simply exclaiming males cannot be raped. That means the person (I’ll refer to her as Kayleigh) still has served no justice to this day. It makes me feel angry and alone most days. I try and put it behind me as much as I can but it’s difficult. I was 14 at the time and she was 19 going on 20. I tried the best I could to stop it but I was much younger and we were at Leeds University at the time, a place I was unfamiliar with, so I couldn’t reach out to anyone the day after. After it happened she cut me off completely. It’s a scar that won’t heal but the most I can do is share my story and let people know this kind of thing does happen.
I tried killing myself upon returning home multiple times. Tried hanging myself, taking a cocktail of pills. I distinctly remember sitting in an English lesson (I was in secondary school) thinking of myself this is going to be the last day, returning home, taking a Swiss army knife my mother got me for my 10th birthday and slicing until my arm was dripping. I just didn’t care. No one was there for me but myself. I felt cold and alone in a world that didn’t want to listen or help. Since then I’ve been on antidepressants but I found the best cure is continuing with my life, acting like I am the normal boy I was before I met Kayleigh. Some days are harder than others but writing this story is one of my first steps towards accepting, perhaps one day I won’t have to pretend to be normal, I can just be normal.
Kayleigh will probably never face repercussions for her actions. She affected my life so negatively but only because I let her. From this day forward I’ll make it positive by sharing my story.