You Didn’t Break Me

I just watched the movie brave miss world and I was impressed by all those girls speaking out about what happened even on record.

So I thought I can do it as well. But I’m already crying again.

I was raped three years ago on a music festival. I was so very drunk and three guys forced me to drink even more, forcing me to drink, pressing a hand against my mouth so I couldn’t spit it out again.

That’s when the feeling of helplessness started.

I met them on the parking lot, I was alone because I just had a massive fight with my boyfriend at that time, so I needed some alone time.

They seemed nice until that moment.

One of the guys left and it was me and two guys, I was afraid of them, but at the same time I was afraid of leaving and trying to find my tent alone because I was so drunk.
The taller one started touching me, trying to kiss me and I told him to stop.

I don’t know what happened then, maybe I passed out or something. I just remember a few moments when I gained back consciousness, he pressed me on the engine cover of a silver car and raped me. I have no idea how long it took because I passed out again and again.

Somehow I got back to my tent, all dirty because I must have fallen on the muddy ground.

I told my friends what happened and they took me to the police straight away and I was in a hospital. Both the doctors and the police didn’t seem to believe me, didn’t even seem to care. They didn’t even wash the mud off to see scratches etc or anything, that’s what really really makes me angry.

Of course I left the festival at the very moment I came back. The police was looking for my rapist all over the place but he wasn’t there. But I suppose that’s exactly what innocent people do?! Run away?!

HE DIDN’T GET A PUNISHMENT.

But I’m glad, I never had to see him again.

I went to therapy for a few years, but never actually had the courage to talk about the rape. The last time I really told someone was at the police station and I regret doing it so much, they made me feel so shameful.

The worst part of all of it is how he destroyed my relationship to many people. Firstly my boyfriend to that time, it wasn’t possible to maintain it even though we tried.

I also lost many friends over it because I was always moody or depressed and didn’t want to tell them why.

But the most painful one was how my little brother looked at me, after my mum told me I was hurt.

I’m still afraid to tell anyone because I don’t want them to look at me in that way or change the way they treat me.

At nighttime I still get anxious sometimes, I’m having troubles falling asleep and when I do I’m often haunted by nightmares. I will probably never in my life be brave enough to go on a music festival again.
But I’m alive.
I’m happy.
I even started to enjoy sex again. Even though I still don’t trust men and I don’t think I will be able to have a serious relationship in the next few years. But that might change.

I’m sorry if my story is written in a confusing or messy way, but it just feels good to get it off my chest.

— Survivor, age 22