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How to Make Sure Time Really Is Up for Sexual Harrassment

Don’t just read about it or campaign about it or hashtag it. Find real help for yourself. Look after number 1 first. You can’t help others until you have helped yourself.

By Rachel DaviesPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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Several people that I have chosen to share my story with have told me that I could write a book about my life. I assume this is because they think that what I have experienced is not normal. But more and more, the media and feminist campaigns like “Time’s Up” are exposing cases of sexual abuse and showing us that sexual harassment is the norm. It happens too often, to too many people.

So my story is not unusual at all. In fact, people are probably bored of hearing about it now!

I am not going to pretend that getting my personal story out there is going to help anyone—because I read stories that say, “if this helps another person then it’s worth it”—but let’s be honest, simply knowing that someone else has had similar experiences doesn’t help.

People think that because I now know that I am not alone and that I am not the only one who has experienced sexual harassment and abuse, that I should feel some sense of relief or contentment. But that makes no sense. Knowing that others have had similar experiences doesn’t make me feel better. It makes me feel more angry that these men have gotten away with vile acts of sexual abuse for so long!

The one thing that telling my story does do, however, is show that there can be light at the end of the seemingly endless, dark tunnel. You feel like your life is worthless unless your bad memories completely disappear and you can forget your past experiences. Well I can tell you this isn’t true. Life is not perfect, but it can still be good, and worth living.

So here is my story.

I was nine-years-old when I first experienced sexual harassment. It was New Year’s Eve and a 40-odd-year-old friend of the family (who was like an uncle to me) decided to make his way up to my bedroom when I had just tucked myself into bed. He was drunk, of course. He knelt down next to my bed and started kissing me and trying to stick his tongue down my throat. I was nine, so I had no idea what to do. I was terrified. I froze and prayed that he would stop and go away. Luckily, as he was lifting up my pyjama bottoms, his wife called from downstairs saying their taxi had arrived. He left. I cried. It is 19 years later and I haven’t seen him since, but I still cry about it.

I have had several other experiences since then, often with men who I trusted. A teacher, a lecturer, my “friend” and boss... Men who took advantage of their stations of power, to try it on with a naive young woman.

My friend/boss was a particularly bad one. He was in his 60s. I had known him for two years. He was a good friend. Or so I thought. He offered me a job working for him—it was my dream job (I won’t give specifics). I went a long way from home to live and work with him. I would never have done that if I didn’t trust and know him. I just thought he was being a good friend and looking after me. In the end, to cut a long story short, he told me that either I sleep with him or I leave—I had no money because he hadn’t paid me yet and so no way of getting home. Thank God for online banking or my mum wouldn’t have been able to send me the money to get home and I would have had to sleep on the streets with my cat!

Of course I have also experienced the typical “everyday” form of sexual harrassment. Work colleagues slapping my bum, groping my boobs, nagging me to have sex with them. Men on the streets wolf-whistling or beeping their horn at me. Men in bars/clubs who grope my bum as they walk past me. It’s all too familiar for us girls. But it shouldn’t be.

There are too many Donald Trumps (perverts) in this world, and not enough Barack Obamas (gentlemen).

***

I am now 28 and I suffer from BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), along with anxiety and depression. I have tried to kill myself twice and get suicidal thoughts almost every week. I am 100 percent certain that all of this is partly caused by my past experiences of sexual abuse.

I have seen many counsellors and have been on anti-depressants for ten years. Nothing seems to have helped so far, but I have recently started therapy with Mind and my therapist is amazing—she makes me feel like my life is worth living.

***

Anyway, that is a very brief version of my story. I hope I haven’t bored you!

I am not sure what my point is or what I think I am going to achieve from writing this. All I know is that I don’t want my past and these Donald Trumps to ruin my life. And I’m sure that there are others reading this who feel the same. So if I had to offer one piece of advice, it would be to find yourself a therapist. Mind is a good place to start because they try to find a therapist most suited to your individual needs.

Remember, if you have experienced sexual abuse or harrassment and really want it’s Time to be Up, you can’t just campaign about it or read about it—you must get help for yourself.

Look after number 1 first.

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About the Creator

Rachel Davies

Welsh, vegetarian, feminist, wildlife conservationist, amateur photographer, BPD and PTSD survivor.

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