If you're someone that has been reading my wrestling blog or falling me on social media you will most probably be aware of the fact that I haven't really bee myself over the past three months or so. Crazy because it feels longer. Everything that has happened feels like its been going for months and months and months not just twelve weeks. I never really understood what people meant when they speak of a tragic event leading them to feel as though time was moving very slowly. It kind of felt like something you read in books or a line you hear in a movie or a TV soap. But I get it now. I understand. I learned the hard way. I lived my own tragic event and realised that "they" were right all along. It's also crazy to think I'm sitting here at quarter past eleven on a Thursday night writing this. Writing about something I have been forcing myself to forget for months. Something I have been pushing right to the back of mind for what seems like forever. I've had a pretty good day. I mean, apart from the god awful flu that I've been cursed with I've had a good day. I had a decent bath (using my final Lush products I had which means a top up shop is needed), I treated myself to a KFC (its the little things that make me happy), and I reconnected with someone I have been wanting to reconnect with for quite sometime. So why am I so upset? Why am I sitting here feeling empty. Why am I sitting here feeling as though I have so much on my mind, so much to say. So much anger, and upset, and controllable rage? The truth is, is its been inevitable. It was only a matter of time before I crumbled. Before the act got too much and I needed to break. I don't believe I have reached the toughest stage yet. That is still to come, I can feel it. As of now I have avoided talking honestly about what happened to me to my family and close friends. I've confided in online strangers only in the hopes that the opinion of a stranger wouldn't effect me but will at least help me get what is on my mind out in the open. I believe that my most difficult stop on this journey will be when I open up to those closes to me. Right now however, I have made the decision to open up to you. Whoever you are reading this. If you're a friend I sent this to because I was to scared to say it in person, if you're an online friend I wanted to justify myself to, or if you're me. If you're a girl or a boy who has stumbled across this post looking for answers, looking for help, or looking for someone you can relate to. I have decided to make the brave yet stupid step to come out and talk about something I haven't spoken about honestly as of yet. In detail. I have decided to talk about the most devastating and horrible events of my life.
We live in a world where we are told to be careful of who speak to online. We are the digital generation. The girls and boys growing up in a world where danger is on the opposite side of the screen. Yet, the most dangerous situation have ever been in came from the real world. Not the digital one. Well, sort of. In the early stages of February this year my life changed completely. And if you have been following me online over the past few months you have probably picked up on a few things. I've tried however to remain strong. To put on a brave face. To present myself as the strong, brave, young women that I've always wanted to believe I am. I continue to post fitness pictures to inspire, I continue to talk strongly about women's rights, feminism and body confidence. I've tried to keep my posts happy and positive and not let on about the horrible things I've been through. But I'm done pretending. I'm over sitting here and putting on act. I'm tired. I'm about to tell you the truth. I'm about to be as honest, raw, and vulnerable I have ever been. Am I scared? Totally. I'm scared of the backlash, the hate, the negative comments coming my way but I'm driven by the belief that my story could help someone. Just one person. So here goes...
At the start of February I began talking to a couple of old school friends. Since leaving school I had dedicated every single day to my career. To blogging, to creating a name for myself, to developing a brand. Wrestling had become my life and the downside to that meant I had lost my social life and lost contact with a lot of friends. I had spent literally five weekends in the space of a few years not working, not blogging, not watching wrestling and taking notes. So when the opportunity came up to meet up with two old school friends I took it. My anxiety meant this wasn't easy. A few days before my mental health had suffered and I had a set back with self harm. I had three anxiety attacks on the day I was due to meet them including on the way. But I did it. I got dressed, I put my makeup on the best I could and put on the biggest fake smile. I took my mum with me on the way just in case I had another anxiety attack and we parted once I was half way. During that journey a car pulled up and asked me to go over and me being me I went over. The guy was super nice, we exchanged numbers and texted throughout the day. It's mad to think, if I had just stayed on the phone to him the following morning, I wouldn't be writing this. The day itself was good. Really good. And girls if you're reading this I mean it, that Saturday night was one of the best nights of my life. I relaxed for the first time in years. I got to be me. Young, happy, carefree. From the dreadful walk around Oxford street, to being moved from Ann Summers, to the McDonalds, all the way to the mad singing of old songs, the Champagne, the deep chats, Tracey and those damn balloons. I had a great night. I felt normal and alive and I want to thank you for that. That night I hadn't slept a wink. My first ever real all nighter (Christmas even all nighters as a kid certainly do not count). Me and one of the girls had stayed up watching Tracey, laughing and joking. I hadn't eaten but I was happy. We left around six AM. We walked around waiting for a bus and wondering how we were gonna get home. The guy I met on my way to meeting the girls the day before had offered to pick us up but I barley knew the guy and told him it was okay. Eventually a bus came and we got on it. Once off we got the tube home and I got off the stop before my friend. It was the only time I was alone. I knew my anxiety was going to be bad and it was. I couldn't stop shaking. I had texted that same guy during my way home and he called me moments after I got off the tube. He reassured me that I was okay and that he would stay on the phone with me until I got home. Why didn't I just stay on the phone? The tube station and my house were ten minuets apart. Ten minuets. Thats it. I had turned around the corner, exactly one minuet since I had started walking from the tube and I was pulled over again. A man in a white car had called me over. I was on the phone but I didn't want to be rude. My social anxiety makes it impossible for me to walk away from situations like this. Manners are so important to me. I hanged up and told the guy my mum was trying to call me. I walked over to the car willingly.It was an open space. He was parked on the road, outside a shop where two men who worked there were standing outside so I felt safe. He tried convincing me to get in his car and drink with him. I was standing there for almost an hour telling him no and telling him how I was tired and just wanted to go home. I should have just walked away but I didn't I just stood there. My anxiety was through the roof and I didn't know what to do. It was like every single part of my body was telling me to walk home but I I wasn't moving. I couldn't. Eventually he told me that if I didn't get in the car he'd just follow me home anyway. I stupidly got in the car. He drove me to the back of my house and for the three minuet journey I was convinced this man was going to hurt me. But he didn't. We spoke in the car more and then it got weird. He randomly drove off with me still in the car. I was scared and I didn't know what was happening so I took my phone out and held it tight in my hands. He drove down an ally where we spoke more and he tried to convince me to go back to a hotel with him. I didn't. We stayed there and we made out. Kissed, touched and that was it. I was still a little drunk, I'd had no sleep or no food for over fifteen hours. It doesn't excuse my stupid behavior but it certainly impacted my decisions that morning. He drove me back home once he realised I wasn't going to have sex with him. He texted me throughout the day and we met again. Thats when my life changed.
We drove not far from my house. I was one edge. It felt different this time. He wasn't as happy or smiley. He's attitude changed. He no longer cared about me being comfortable. He continued to drink rum ( I can still smell it) just like he had done in the morning that whole time I was in the car then. This time he didn't throw it out the window like before. He had his music on louder, he smoked his blunt where before he refused to do so simply because I didn't like it. He didn't speak to me much. He just sat there rolling more weed, drinking and singing. He would always sing. I can remember his singing voice, the Jamaican songs he would play. I remember hating the lyrics. They made me uncomfortable. They were all about sex and degrading women. He eventually started to speak and started touching me. I shifted in my seat. Hating being touched. I remember clenching my fists every time he touched me. I wanted to tell him to stop but I didn't know how to. I pushed his hand away a few times but he he just carried on. He told me that night he was a dealer. I wanted to run out the car and run back home but again... I stayed. I was so stupid. He drove off again when the police stopped by and we went back to where we were that morning. It was down that ally that I felt most scared. He put pressure on me to drink, saying I had no excuse this time. I had told him before that I wasn't going to drink in the morning but it was late now. What could I say. Regardless of me telling him no he didn't listen. and the pressure got too much. I took the smallest sips and hated it. It was so strong and tasted horrible. But I continued to drink little sips. Looking back I was more scared than I thought. We started making out and this time I felt his strength. I made it clear I didn't want to have sex with him and I wasn't going to go further. He of course didn't listen. I wanted to get out of the car and go home but I knew if I said that to him he would flip. I had to think of a way to get him to take me home. I performed an oral sex act. He had put loads of pressure on me and I knew that if I wanted to get out that car I would have to do it. I can still feel the pressure of his hand on the back of my head. I can feel the force. I can feel him shoving me and making me do this. If I resisted he got more angry and so I tried to get into it. In the back of my head all I could think about was getting out that car and once it was over thats what would happen. I could go home. Once I had got back into my house I was okay. I could breathe. Over the next twenty four hours I learned a lot. I learnt through his texts that I wasn't going to get rid of him easy. He texted me all day, called me, and pressured me to meet him again. There's so much I could have done. I could have blocked his number, confided in a friend more than I did, not answer him but I didn't do any of those things. My mum had been seriously ill and I didn't want to put any more pressure on her or anyone so I didn't tell them the full story of what had happened. I wanted to escape from what was going on at home and with my mental health so I continued talking to him. Being scared of him yet wanting that escapism was a weird combination. A dangerous one. I rebelled. Apart of me liked the attention and he made it easy to forget the bad parts. So I met him again.
That second night was ten times worse. I don't even know where to begin. I was still refusing to go back to his hotel so we went back down that same ally. During that time he received several calls, rejecting them all but one. The number way saved under baby girl. He got out the car and spoke to her. In that moment I knew he had a girlfriend and I texted my aunt telling her how he was a fucking liar. She and my mum had tried calling me all night but I was too scared to answer in front of him. Apart of me believed he would only throw my phone out the window. The same routine happened; he played the same songs in the same order, he drank the same drink and smoked more weed than he did before. A lot happened that night. He met up with someone quickly and made me wait in the car, and the ally way got darker. We made out again after I had a few drinks. I couldn't think properly and again I just wanted to call someone. I told him again that I didn't want to have sex, that this wasn't what it was. He started talking about what he wanted to do me. He spoke about threesomes and hooking up with girls. He spoke of me doing web caming and spoke of wanting to get me into escorting. I told him that I had to go home soon but it was like he wasn't listening. Like he wasn't hearing a word I said. I thought if I did the same thing as the other night I could just go home and never see him again. But it was different this time. He pushed the seat back in the car and I couldn't move. He was so heavy and I didn't expect it. He started pulling my trousers down even though I told him to stop. Whenever I said I couldn't do this, or stop, or no he just said "no no no, allow it, its no big deal" "just lay there". And then it happened. I always thought if I was ever in that situation I would punch the guy or scream or do anything but I didn't. I let myself down. I just laid there. This man had been doing drugs, drinking and my denial made him angry. So just laid there. Staring at the car ceiling and waiting for it to be over. Apparently not much happened. I was virgin and I kept moving. But I don't remember. I remember being still. It's like my mind and my body were in different places. He got off me and I remember trying to contact my aunts boyfriend but he didn't contact me back. I felt alone. And scared. It was really really late and I didn't want to go home. My mum hated this guy and I knew she would be super angry if I got home. It was around five AM. He drove me to my grandparents house and that was it. I remember going into their house shaking. I went straight to the toilet and cried. But I didn't want to upset them so I quickly wiped my eyes and put a brave face on and pretended like nothing had happened. They asked me questions but I drank my water and told them I was ok. You'd think after that I wouldn't ever meet this man again. You're wrong.
The next few days I wasn't okay. My work load grew heavy, I felt horrible, I was falling out with friends and I was angry at the world. Again, I wanted an escape. Like he had known, he texted me and called me throughout the day and told me to be outside my house by a certain time. I didn't want to go. I really didn't want to go. But its weird, I couldn't stop. That same day he admitted he had a girlfriend and three children. Everything was a lie. I wasn't shocked. I had expected every single thing he told me. Apart from what came next. He kept talking about how good I was at oral sex and how I would make a lot of money for him. He made me feel disgusting. I felt like some kind of slag. Some cheap, easy whore. The night he texted me to meet him I was scared. Not of my safety any more but my family. I genuinely believed that if I didn't meet him he'd hurt them. He told me that he knew what my best friend looked like (Marc if ur reading this I never wanted to tell you that, I didn't want you to be as scared as I was. I knew you were already disappointed in me and I didn't know what to do or say. I'm sorry). He told me that he would be looking out for my brother. So I met him. I met him and told myself it wouldn't happen again. That night he raped me. I haven't written those words this whole time. I've never really wrote those and truly admitted it. I know this was my fault. I should have done things differently. I remember him being so heavy, so sweaty. I was so hot and so stiff. I could feel his sweat on me. I could feel his breath on my neck. When I told him to stop or get off me it was like he couldn't hear me. I remember telling him I was in pain but every time I said "ow" or anything along those lines he would just say good, thats what I wanna hear. I looked up and felt dead. It felt like it lasted forever. I thought I was never gonna leave the car. I didn't want to go home. I told him I was going to get a cab to my grandparents house. He gave me a ten pound note after calling the cab firm for me himself. He drove me back home so I could get my stuff and left. I knew my mum was going to kill me for being out with him and I didn't want her to see me upset and start asking questions. So I put on a smile again. I told her we had had sex but it was what I wanted. That it was good. I didn't want anyone to know the truth. Not the real, whole truth. I told her I was okay and she didn't need to worry. That day, I went to straight to sleep wanting to forget. I knew she knew I wasn't okay.
A few days later my friend came to my house. I had told her a similar story. I told her the truth about him not wearing protection and she wanted to help me get a test. She came to my house and we chilled. It was fun. I felt okay. We listened to music, talked, had girly time. It's what I needed. Around this time my blog was suffering and my life was a mess. That day he had been calling and texting me again. My friend wanted was kind of interested in buying something from him and meeting him. She had warned me off him, hated him, she was the strict protecting friend that I needed but didn't know at the time. But we had a stupid moment. Deep down I knew he would get angry if I didn't meet him so we did. He told us to meet him at the shop so we went but he wasn't there. We waited for almost an hour. He argued with me on the phone and called me names. Apparently there was a mix up as to what shop we were meeting at. We met up eventually and he was the nice version of himself. He had a way of portraying himself as the perfect man when he wanted to. He was convincing and manipulative. And even me, someone smart, fell for it. My friend was already angry and he hated that. He hated women having an attitude and I could feel the tension in the car but they got along. For a little while they got along. I feared I had gotten my friend into something dangerous and I felt like the worse kind of person. He drove around, met some people, went to the petrol station and then it got dark. Me and my friend had been texting each other in the car. Nothing serious, nothing bad about him but he assumed that we were and he got very angry. He wanted us to get out the car and walk home. My friend got out but I was scared. I felt like I had to stay. I didn't want to leave him angry. I didn't know what text I would have gotten from him later on in the night. So I stayed in the car until he had calmed down. Eventually he drove us home but I knew he was still angry so I stayed. My friend thinks I stayed because I wanted to. Maybe apart of me did. Apart of me felt like I had some loyalty to him. It sounds stupid but I thought I had feelings for him. I don't know if it was because this was the man I had lost my virginity to or because he had manipulated me but regardless I stayed in the car and it would be the last night I would ever see him. That night he shifted from super nice him to super horrible him. I commented on my appearance from weight, to dress style, hair and my work life. He made me feel worthless. He commented on how hot I was but mentioned how I could be hotter and he was going to make me hotter. That a few months with him and I would look and act differently. In that moment I knew I had to part ways with this man. He soon drove off with me still in the car, stopped off for a drink and locked me in the car. I tried texting my mum but as I was about to contact her I saw him coming and I quickly hid my phone but he saw. He told me he had caught me trying to contact another man and from there on his attitude changed. Earlier on in the night he got me a bottle of wine. If I was going to stay in this car I had to drink. If I wanted him to not get angry I had to drink. So I did. The same thing happened. He forced me to perform an oral sex act and he tried having sex with me again. This time it was too much. I knew the door was unlocked, I got out and called my aunt. I didn't tell her what happened but I told her I wanted to talk to her partner who I had also tried contacting. He wasn't home so I hanged up and told her I would talk to her later. During that phone call I told her that I wanted to go and visit her sometime and stay. He stared at me the whole time so I got back in the car and ten minuets later he drove me to my grandparents house. I brushed my teeth over and over and over again, I drank loads of water and told myself and everyone else I was okay. That night he had sexually assaulted me again and was violent. I had bruises on my legs and scars in my mind and soul. But that wasn't it.
He tried contacting me again a few days later and told him not to contact me. He wanted me to meet him but I said no and thats when he started to act him. He threatened me. I found out he had recorded us being intimate without me knowing and had a private video of me performing one of the oral sex acts. I was a mess. I didn't know what to do. He called me names, sent me horrible texts and voice note that I still have on my phone. I was crying, I was angry, I was scared, I called my aunts boyfriend and begged him to help me and he did. He called him and I don't know what he said but it kind of helped. He called me and told me my aunts partner had called him (although he didn't know what was who it was). I hanged up and blocked his number. Since that night I haven't spoken to him but I've seen him. He lives local to me and I've seen his car around and I've seen him as I've been out passing by in his car. I hate it. I'm never going to escape this man. He's everywhere. I have nightmares about him, I'm scared to leave my house and when I do I'm looking at every single car to see if he's in it. I hate going out but I'm also too scared to be at home on my own. I saw him a few weeks ago opposite my house. How can I be ok? Some of you will know I stayed with my aunt in Croydon for a bit and that was to get away from him.
I've been so afraid to tell my story. I've been scared no one will believe me. I've been so unbelivably scared people will take his side and honestly I'm frightened that whoever reading this think its all my fault. I know I should have listened. I should have acted differently. I should have never seen him again after that first night. This was my fault and I'm so afraid of people telling me that. But I wanted to share my story. I wanted to encourage other girls to step forward. To be honest. If you're in a situation like this get help. You're not alone. Don't keep going back, don't stay or hide because your scared. I've dealt with this alone for months yet it seems like forever and I can't bare someone else going through what I've been through. Since this I haven't been the same. I'm not me. I've fallen out with my close friends, Alex, Zariah and Marc. To you three I'm so sorry. I've been breaking and I took it out on you. It wasn't your fault and I'm so sorry I didn't listen and I treated you like crap. I'm a bad person and you deserve better than my friendship. The truth is is I was scared and embarrassed. I couldn't believe this happened to me. I know bad and horrible comments are coming my way but if I can help just one person it was worth it. I'm sorry to the people I hurt. I'm sorry if you reading this think I'm a stupid bitch and deserve it all. I'm sorry to me. I'm sorry I let you down. All of you and myself.
Don't let your abuser win. You're stronger than them and you can do this. Seek help. You are not alone. I promise.
We live in a world where we are told to be careful of who speak to online. We are the digital generation. The girls and boys growing up in a world where danger is on the opposite side of the screen. Yet, the most dangerous situation have ever been in came from the real world. Not the digital one. Well, sort of. In the early stages of February this year my life changed completely. And if you have been following me online over the past few months you have probably picked up on a few things. I've tried however to remain strong. To put on a brave face. To present myself as the strong, brave, young women that I've always wanted to believe I am. I continue to post fitness pictures to inspire, I continue to talk strongly about women's rights, feminism and body confidence. I've tried to keep my posts happy and positive and not let on about the horrible things I've been through. But I'm done pretending. I'm over sitting here and putting on act. I'm tired. I'm about to tell you the truth. I'm about to be as honest, raw, and vulnerable I have ever been. Am I scared? Totally. I'm scared of the backlash, the hate, the negative comments coming my way but I'm driven by the belief that my story could help someone. Just one person. So here goes...
At the start of February I began talking to a couple of old school friends. Since leaving school I had dedicated every single day to my career. To blogging, to creating a name for myself, to developing a brand. Wrestling had become my life and the downside to that meant I had lost my social life and lost contact with a lot of friends. I had spent literally five weekends in the space of a few years not working, not blogging, not watching wrestling and taking notes. So when the opportunity came up to meet up with two old school friends I took it. My anxiety meant this wasn't easy. A few days before my mental health had suffered and I had a set back with self harm. I had three anxiety attacks on the day I was due to meet them including on the way. But I did it. I got dressed, I put my makeup on the best I could and put on the biggest fake smile. I took my mum with me on the way just in case I had another anxiety attack and we parted once I was half way. During that journey a car pulled up and asked me to go over and me being me I went over. The guy was super nice, we exchanged numbers and texted throughout the day. It's mad to think, if I had just stayed on the phone to him the following morning, I wouldn't be writing this. The day itself was good. Really good. And girls if you're reading this I mean it, that Saturday night was one of the best nights of my life. I relaxed for the first time in years. I got to be me. Young, happy, carefree. From the dreadful walk around Oxford street, to being moved from Ann Summers, to the McDonalds, all the way to the mad singing of old songs, the Champagne, the deep chats, Tracey and those damn balloons. I had a great night. I felt normal and alive and I want to thank you for that. That night I hadn't slept a wink. My first ever real all nighter (Christmas even all nighters as a kid certainly do not count). Me and one of the girls had stayed up watching Tracey, laughing and joking. I hadn't eaten but I was happy. We left around six AM. We walked around waiting for a bus and wondering how we were gonna get home. The guy I met on my way to meeting the girls the day before had offered to pick us up but I barley knew the guy and told him it was okay. Eventually a bus came and we got on it. Once off we got the tube home and I got off the stop before my friend. It was the only time I was alone. I knew my anxiety was going to be bad and it was. I couldn't stop shaking. I had texted that same guy during my way home and he called me moments after I got off the tube. He reassured me that I was okay and that he would stay on the phone with me until I got home. Why didn't I just stay on the phone? The tube station and my house were ten minuets apart. Ten minuets. Thats it. I had turned around the corner, exactly one minuet since I had started walking from the tube and I was pulled over again. A man in a white car had called me over. I was on the phone but I didn't want to be rude. My social anxiety makes it impossible for me to walk away from situations like this. Manners are so important to me. I hanged up and told the guy my mum was trying to call me. I walked over to the car willingly.It was an open space. He was parked on the road, outside a shop where two men who worked there were standing outside so I felt safe. He tried convincing me to get in his car and drink with him. I was standing there for almost an hour telling him no and telling him how I was tired and just wanted to go home. I should have just walked away but I didn't I just stood there. My anxiety was through the roof and I didn't know what to do. It was like every single part of my body was telling me to walk home but I I wasn't moving. I couldn't. Eventually he told me that if I didn't get in the car he'd just follow me home anyway. I stupidly got in the car. He drove me to the back of my house and for the three minuet journey I was convinced this man was going to hurt me. But he didn't. We spoke in the car more and then it got weird. He randomly drove off with me still in the car. I was scared and I didn't know what was happening so I took my phone out and held it tight in my hands. He drove down an ally where we spoke more and he tried to convince me to go back to a hotel with him. I didn't. We stayed there and we made out. Kissed, touched and that was it. I was still a little drunk, I'd had no sleep or no food for over fifteen hours. It doesn't excuse my stupid behavior but it certainly impacted my decisions that morning. He drove me back home once he realised I wasn't going to have sex with him. He texted me throughout the day and we met again. Thats when my life changed.
We drove not far from my house. I was one edge. It felt different this time. He wasn't as happy or smiley. He's attitude changed. He no longer cared about me being comfortable. He continued to drink rum ( I can still smell it) just like he had done in the morning that whole time I was in the car then. This time he didn't throw it out the window like before. He had his music on louder, he smoked his blunt where before he refused to do so simply because I didn't like it. He didn't speak to me much. He just sat there rolling more weed, drinking and singing. He would always sing. I can remember his singing voice, the Jamaican songs he would play. I remember hating the lyrics. They made me uncomfortable. They were all about sex and degrading women. He eventually started to speak and started touching me. I shifted in my seat. Hating being touched. I remember clenching my fists every time he touched me. I wanted to tell him to stop but I didn't know how to. I pushed his hand away a few times but he he just carried on. He told me that night he was a dealer. I wanted to run out the car and run back home but again... I stayed. I was so stupid. He drove off again when the police stopped by and we went back to where we were that morning. It was down that ally that I felt most scared. He put pressure on me to drink, saying I had no excuse this time. I had told him before that I wasn't going to drink in the morning but it was late now. What could I say. Regardless of me telling him no he didn't listen. and the pressure got too much. I took the smallest sips and hated it. It was so strong and tasted horrible. But I continued to drink little sips. Looking back I was more scared than I thought. We started making out and this time I felt his strength. I made it clear I didn't want to have sex with him and I wasn't going to go further. He of course didn't listen. I wanted to get out of the car and go home but I knew if I said that to him he would flip. I had to think of a way to get him to take me home. I performed an oral sex act. He had put loads of pressure on me and I knew that if I wanted to get out that car I would have to do it. I can still feel the pressure of his hand on the back of my head. I can feel the force. I can feel him shoving me and making me do this. If I resisted he got more angry and so I tried to get into it. In the back of my head all I could think about was getting out that car and once it was over thats what would happen. I could go home. Once I had got back into my house I was okay. I could breathe. Over the next twenty four hours I learned a lot. I learnt through his texts that I wasn't going to get rid of him easy. He texted me all day, called me, and pressured me to meet him again. There's so much I could have done. I could have blocked his number, confided in a friend more than I did, not answer him but I didn't do any of those things. My mum had been seriously ill and I didn't want to put any more pressure on her or anyone so I didn't tell them the full story of what had happened. I wanted to escape from what was going on at home and with my mental health so I continued talking to him. Being scared of him yet wanting that escapism was a weird combination. A dangerous one. I rebelled. Apart of me liked the attention and he made it easy to forget the bad parts. So I met him again.
That second night was ten times worse. I don't even know where to begin. I was still refusing to go back to his hotel so we went back down that same ally. During that time he received several calls, rejecting them all but one. The number way saved under baby girl. He got out the car and spoke to her. In that moment I knew he had a girlfriend and I texted my aunt telling her how he was a fucking liar. She and my mum had tried calling me all night but I was too scared to answer in front of him. Apart of me believed he would only throw my phone out the window. The same routine happened; he played the same songs in the same order, he drank the same drink and smoked more weed than he did before. A lot happened that night. He met up with someone quickly and made me wait in the car, and the ally way got darker. We made out again after I had a few drinks. I couldn't think properly and again I just wanted to call someone. I told him again that I didn't want to have sex, that this wasn't what it was. He started talking about what he wanted to do me. He spoke about threesomes and hooking up with girls. He spoke of me doing web caming and spoke of wanting to get me into escorting. I told him that I had to go home soon but it was like he wasn't listening. Like he wasn't hearing a word I said. I thought if I did the same thing as the other night I could just go home and never see him again. But it was different this time. He pushed the seat back in the car and I couldn't move. He was so heavy and I didn't expect it. He started pulling my trousers down even though I told him to stop. Whenever I said I couldn't do this, or stop, or no he just said "no no no, allow it, its no big deal" "just lay there". And then it happened. I always thought if I was ever in that situation I would punch the guy or scream or do anything but I didn't. I let myself down. I just laid there. This man had been doing drugs, drinking and my denial made him angry. So just laid there. Staring at the car ceiling and waiting for it to be over. Apparently not much happened. I was virgin and I kept moving. But I don't remember. I remember being still. It's like my mind and my body were in different places. He got off me and I remember trying to contact my aunts boyfriend but he didn't contact me back. I felt alone. And scared. It was really really late and I didn't want to go home. My mum hated this guy and I knew she would be super angry if I got home. It was around five AM. He drove me to my grandparents house and that was it. I remember going into their house shaking. I went straight to the toilet and cried. But I didn't want to upset them so I quickly wiped my eyes and put a brave face on and pretended like nothing had happened. They asked me questions but I drank my water and told them I was ok. You'd think after that I wouldn't ever meet this man again. You're wrong.
The next few days I wasn't okay. My work load grew heavy, I felt horrible, I was falling out with friends and I was angry at the world. Again, I wanted an escape. Like he had known, he texted me and called me throughout the day and told me to be outside my house by a certain time. I didn't want to go. I really didn't want to go. But its weird, I couldn't stop. That same day he admitted he had a girlfriend and three children. Everything was a lie. I wasn't shocked. I had expected every single thing he told me. Apart from what came next. He kept talking about how good I was at oral sex and how I would make a lot of money for him. He made me feel disgusting. I felt like some kind of slag. Some cheap, easy whore. The night he texted me to meet him I was scared. Not of my safety any more but my family. I genuinely believed that if I didn't meet him he'd hurt them. He told me that he knew what my best friend looked like (Marc if ur reading this I never wanted to tell you that, I didn't want you to be as scared as I was. I knew you were already disappointed in me and I didn't know what to do or say. I'm sorry). He told me that he would be looking out for my brother. So I met him. I met him and told myself it wouldn't happen again. That night he raped me. I haven't written those words this whole time. I've never really wrote those and truly admitted it. I know this was my fault. I should have done things differently. I remember him being so heavy, so sweaty. I was so hot and so stiff. I could feel his sweat on me. I could feel his breath on my neck. When I told him to stop or get off me it was like he couldn't hear me. I remember telling him I was in pain but every time I said "ow" or anything along those lines he would just say good, thats what I wanna hear. I looked up and felt dead. It felt like it lasted forever. I thought I was never gonna leave the car. I didn't want to go home. I told him I was going to get a cab to my grandparents house. He gave me a ten pound note after calling the cab firm for me himself. He drove me back home so I could get my stuff and left. I knew my mum was going to kill me for being out with him and I didn't want her to see me upset and start asking questions. So I put on a smile again. I told her we had had sex but it was what I wanted. That it was good. I didn't want anyone to know the truth. Not the real, whole truth. I told her I was okay and she didn't need to worry. That day, I went to straight to sleep wanting to forget. I knew she knew I wasn't okay.
A few days later my friend came to my house. I had told her a similar story. I told her the truth about him not wearing protection and she wanted to help me get a test. She came to my house and we chilled. It was fun. I felt okay. We listened to music, talked, had girly time. It's what I needed. Around this time my blog was suffering and my life was a mess. That day he had been calling and texting me again. My friend wanted was kind of interested in buying something from him and meeting him. She had warned me off him, hated him, she was the strict protecting friend that I needed but didn't know at the time. But we had a stupid moment. Deep down I knew he would get angry if I didn't meet him so we did. He told us to meet him at the shop so we went but he wasn't there. We waited for almost an hour. He argued with me on the phone and called me names. Apparently there was a mix up as to what shop we were meeting at. We met up eventually and he was the nice version of himself. He had a way of portraying himself as the perfect man when he wanted to. He was convincing and manipulative. And even me, someone smart, fell for it. My friend was already angry and he hated that. He hated women having an attitude and I could feel the tension in the car but they got along. For a little while they got along. I feared I had gotten my friend into something dangerous and I felt like the worse kind of person. He drove around, met some people, went to the petrol station and then it got dark. Me and my friend had been texting each other in the car. Nothing serious, nothing bad about him but he assumed that we were and he got very angry. He wanted us to get out the car and walk home. My friend got out but I was scared. I felt like I had to stay. I didn't want to leave him angry. I didn't know what text I would have gotten from him later on in the night. So I stayed in the car until he had calmed down. Eventually he drove us home but I knew he was still angry so I stayed. My friend thinks I stayed because I wanted to. Maybe apart of me did. Apart of me felt like I had some loyalty to him. It sounds stupid but I thought I had feelings for him. I don't know if it was because this was the man I had lost my virginity to or because he had manipulated me but regardless I stayed in the car and it would be the last night I would ever see him. That night he shifted from super nice him to super horrible him. I commented on my appearance from weight, to dress style, hair and my work life. He made me feel worthless. He commented on how hot I was but mentioned how I could be hotter and he was going to make me hotter. That a few months with him and I would look and act differently. In that moment I knew I had to part ways with this man. He soon drove off with me still in the car, stopped off for a drink and locked me in the car. I tried texting my mum but as I was about to contact her I saw him coming and I quickly hid my phone but he saw. He told me he had caught me trying to contact another man and from there on his attitude changed. Earlier on in the night he got me a bottle of wine. If I was going to stay in this car I had to drink. If I wanted him to not get angry I had to drink. So I did. The same thing happened. He forced me to perform an oral sex act and he tried having sex with me again. This time it was too much. I knew the door was unlocked, I got out and called my aunt. I didn't tell her what happened but I told her I wanted to talk to her partner who I had also tried contacting. He wasn't home so I hanged up and told her I would talk to her later. During that phone call I told her that I wanted to go and visit her sometime and stay. He stared at me the whole time so I got back in the car and ten minuets later he drove me to my grandparents house. I brushed my teeth over and over and over again, I drank loads of water and told myself and everyone else I was okay. That night he had sexually assaulted me again and was violent. I had bruises on my legs and scars in my mind and soul. But that wasn't it.
He tried contacting me again a few days later and told him not to contact me. He wanted me to meet him but I said no and thats when he started to act him. He threatened me. I found out he had recorded us being intimate without me knowing and had a private video of me performing one of the oral sex acts. I was a mess. I didn't know what to do. He called me names, sent me horrible texts and voice note that I still have on my phone. I was crying, I was angry, I was scared, I called my aunts boyfriend and begged him to help me and he did. He called him and I don't know what he said but it kind of helped. He called me and told me my aunts partner had called him (although he didn't know what was who it was). I hanged up and blocked his number. Since that night I haven't spoken to him but I've seen him. He lives local to me and I've seen his car around and I've seen him as I've been out passing by in his car. I hate it. I'm never going to escape this man. He's everywhere. I have nightmares about him, I'm scared to leave my house and when I do I'm looking at every single car to see if he's in it. I hate going out but I'm also too scared to be at home on my own. I saw him a few weeks ago opposite my house. How can I be ok? Some of you will know I stayed with my aunt in Croydon for a bit and that was to get away from him.
I've been so afraid to tell my story. I've been scared no one will believe me. I've been so unbelivably scared people will take his side and honestly I'm frightened that whoever reading this think its all my fault. I know I should have listened. I should have acted differently. I should have never seen him again after that first night. This was my fault and I'm so afraid of people telling me that. But I wanted to share my story. I wanted to encourage other girls to step forward. To be honest. If you're in a situation like this get help. You're not alone. Don't keep going back, don't stay or hide because your scared. I've dealt with this alone for months yet it seems like forever and I can't bare someone else going through what I've been through. Since this I haven't been the same. I'm not me. I've fallen out with my close friends, Alex, Zariah and Marc. To you three I'm so sorry. I've been breaking and I took it out on you. It wasn't your fault and I'm so sorry I didn't listen and I treated you like crap. I'm a bad person and you deserve better than my friendship. The truth is is I was scared and embarrassed. I couldn't believe this happened to me. I know bad and horrible comments are coming my way but if I can help just one person it was worth it. I'm sorry to the people I hurt. I'm sorry if you reading this think I'm a stupid bitch and deserve it all. I'm sorry to me. I'm sorry I let you down. All of you and myself.
Don't let your abuser win. You're stronger than them and you can do this. Seek help. You are not alone. I promise.
omg i hope you are well dm me on twitter @1001ofclips or on insta wwefightforever
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