What the World Is like After You’ve Been Raped

When we are young, most people won’t see the world as it is. I can remember the world when I was young, was full of bustle and life, empty of responsibility and solely about meeting friends and having a good time. I couldn’t see much past primary school or secondary school, I knew that they were ahead of me, but between a group of friends at school, and a room for me at home, I could never have imagined what growing older would be—the people I’d meet and who I’d become.

I guess I was lucky, in the sense that my attacker wasn’t someone I knew very well, or part of my family. I know that’s never a thing I should be saying, but for me, and the way I dealt with stuff at that moment in time, looking back at it, it could have been a lot worse.

I kept everything and everyone separate. I had different groups of friends outside of school who knew nothing about each other, let alone my friends in school, not even my family. That’s how I was dealing with things. So when something happened to me, it was very easy for me to hide everything about it—no one was aware of what had happened to me except, of course, my attacker and the guy who had to pull him off of me.

I became depressed, but solely when I was on my own. When I surrounded myself with people, I acted how I always acted around them. It was my way of escaping and forgetting about it.

Everything changed.

I acted the same at face value, but nothing I ever did that moment onwards ever felt how it did before. Standing up, sitting down, walking about—all those normal daily movements were betrayed by the constant reminder of the damage someone had decided to inflict on me. My friends would tap me on the arm or shoulder and I would flinch, constantly blaming it on being overly sensitive or ticklish.

For a long time, I felt like anyone who ever talked to me, wanted something from me. I would feel uneasy with eye contact and never trust what anyone said. You become a master at reading between lines that aren't there.

Physical contact becomes overwhelming. Anytime someone comes towards you, at least for a while, I used to have this wave of instinctual fear. It took a long time and a lot of trust for me to get over this.

Public spaces become very unsettling and anxiety inducing. I found that my eyes would (and still do) fleet around the people who pass close to me, and I find myself tense up.

Your body doesn’t feel like your body.

The attack made me so much worse than I had been before. I had always hated my body, I didn’t like the way it made me feel so exposed and there to look at. But this was different. After the attack, I loathed my body, and I hated everything about it. I partly blamed it for what happened and I felt the need to punish it and myself. I wouldn’t eat unless I was around people, where I used the excuse of feeling poorly. I would never look in mirrors and I would rush to cover myself after a shower.

I felt like I would never be able to have a proper connection with someone for two main reasons: the first being physical contact, I was sure I was never going to have sex again; and secondly, I wasn't sure if I could trust anyone.

Everyone’s eyes always felt like a violation. I had this a lot in public transport, or even with friends or in school. As soon as someone’s eyes were on me, no matter what they were looking at, my head would be racing with thoughts.

I couldn't trust anyone.

I'm sad to say this is still partly true to this day. I don't think I can ever underestimate anyone ever again.

If you are suffering, please talk to someone. There are plenty of free hotlines and services available in countries like England. Please search it up, talking is the first step to getting over it all, and taking control.