I was in Bangkok with my boyfriend, we were sitting outside a bar with some people we’d just met. After a few drinks I went upstairs to the toilet, and when I came out a guy stopped me and started talking to me. I recognized him as the person who had just proposed to his girlfriend at the table next to us. I congratulated him. He acted as though he didn’t know what I was talking about, saying that wasn’t him.
He asked if he could kiss me, and if there was somewhere private we could go. I told him no. He grabbed my hand and took me into the mens toilets.
I’d completely frozen up, my mind couldn’t seem to keep up with what was happening. I was standing in a cubicle, looking through the crack in the door. I saw him pay one man to leave.
His hands were all over me, I just wanted to leave and be sick. The second I felt him let go I ran out.
When I got back to our table I asked to speak to my boyfriend in private. I told him pretty bluntly, and I could see the realization of what had just happened dawning on his face. He started yelling, demanding to know who it was. I felt strangely calm, numb with shock I guess. I refused to tell him, I knew he’d start a fight and I didn’t want him getting hurt. We argued for about ten minutes before I broke down and he took me back. He held me in the taxi as I sobbed my heart out. I’ve never cried so much in my life.
Three weeks later, and I’m back home in England, and I have no idea what to do with myself. Whenever I think about it, it makes me want to cry my eyes out, and then anger builds up to the point where I just want to throw and break everything. But I don’t, I keep holding it all in because I don’t know how to let all my emotions out. And I feel weak crying about it, I feel like it shouldn’t matter, that I should just move on and forget about it. I feel mostly angry at myself, that I did nothing to stop what was happening. I also feel angry that no one else seems to understand how I feel, how degrading it is.
Everyone keeps using the word rape and telling me it’s not my fault. But no matter how I look at it, all I see is that if I had just done something to protest, it wouldn’t have happened.
My two best friends don’t seem to care, and my boyfriend doesn’t know how to cope with it. I feel like I have to look after everyone else, help them get through it. All I want to do is have a breakdown in private, where I can shout and punch walls without anyone hearing or seeing me. I don’t want them to see me cry or losing it, because I have to stay strong for them. And I’m sick of it.
I’m very sorry to hear that you feel like you have to go through this alone, but you don’t have face this alone. There are people who are willing to be there, to help you through it, even if its just to listen to you as talk through. You’re brave for sharing your story and you are strong enough.
Oh your post makes my heart ache. I hope people will keep telling you what happened until you are able to believe it yourself. Truth is that can take a long time (and the definition of a long time is different for everyone). Sometimes I think it’s easier to believe you could have prevented it than to believe that people are capable of hurting each other the way they are. In any case, I’ll write it again here – what happened to you was not your fault. It was his decision to hurt you and you are in no way responsible for it. The reality is that you have to take care of yourself. If that means crying or throwing things or punching your pillow or yelling then that’s all ok. I agree with Kate that finding people who are able to listen to you and be there for you is incredible important. It can be scary and hard – but it is unbelievably helpful. You are very strong and I am grateful to you for sharing your story here. Sending you love and support!