4 years ago, when I was 15, I was raped by a boy a knew. He was my friend’s ex-boyfriend. I was walking home one night from a friends house, and for some reason, took the long way home that happened to take me past his house. I saw him on my way and we began talking and went for a walk because it wasn’t too late at night so I didn’t have to be home straight away. While we were walking he stopped and kissed me, I kissed him back because I found him attractive at the time, and when you’re 15, a boy of 20 that ‘likes’ you is a thrill.
As we carried on walking we ended up in a nearby park and stopped and sat on the grass and carried on talking. After a while, he started proposing sex with me, but I was persistent with the fact I didn’t want to. He took this as a joke. He continued to ask for sex, and I knew then that this was just playing around, I had the instinct to just run but I was too scared. He then held up his phone to me, to show me the time, it was 20:46 and he said, ‘if you don’t agree to have sex with me in 2 minutes I’m just going to rape you anyway’. I laughed this off and tried to be casual while still saying no, it then reached 20:48, he just showed my the time on his phone, smiled and continued to pin me down on the floor and pull down my jeans and underwear and rape me, at first I fought but then just froze and gave up.
He then walked me home, I just stayed silent the whole way, then as he left me, I received a text message immediately after that just said ‘haha easy’. I knew I had been raped. After a few months, I plucked up the courage to tell my friend (his ex girlfriend) with the support of my best friend. When I told her, initially she was understanding, but then I think she became angry and proceeded to tell everyone at school, and nobody believed me, they said that if I had been raped I wouldn’t even want to leave the house so how was I going to school. For months I received abusive messages for the boys friends and from people I went to school with, I was ‘the girl who lied about being raped’. It became a standing joke between those who knew me.
While all this was going on, it actually persuaded me to believe that it was my fault, I wasn’t clear enough that I didn’t want to have sex with him, because I was known as the girl that had had sex with a few boys, I didn’t fight him off hard enough, I didn’t go to the police. Only in the past 6 months or so have I really realised what happened to me, and I think about it every day. This boy now lives on the same street as me and I live with the sick feeling in my stomach that I could see him any day.
I am still yet to tell any of my family or my current boyfriend who I have been with for 2 years and feel like as I’ve only just come to terms with this, that it’s going to be a long journey to dealing with it and being content. Thank you