It sounds crazy but in some way it feels kind of good to write this down here. When I was 14 I knew a Muslim boy in school. He was super sweet and we were really good friends with each other. At one point he wanted to have a relationship with me and he was pretty open about it. I said I’d rather just remain friends but he wasn’t very happy to hear that, then he pushed me against the wall and ran off. A few days later on my way to the bus stop, I saw him standing in the park, which i had to go through to get to the bus, along with 2 other friends. They made a game of it. Disgusting. After it happened, I went home acting like nothing had happened. It took me a year and a half to finally to tell someone about it and when I did it was such a relief. Now 6 years later, I still struggle a lot with what happened. You’re so ashamed and disgusted of yourself, although you know that you couldn’t have done anything about it. It happened once and now I’m slowly starting to put it behind me.
— Naomi, age 21