@whoami24601
Can you help me? I have a theory...
With #toomanymen trending and everyone sharing stories I've been mulling over my own experiences of harassment. Whilst thinking about my time as a teenager I've realised that, although I mostly went to rock pubs and clubs, all of my bad experiences happened in 'normal' nightclubs.
I have long thought that the rock scene is much more relaxed, friendly and accepting than others, and I'd like to know if that is your experience as well? I'm interested if I'm the exception or the rule.
Thanks!
Ex-goth/indie kid here
Mid to late nineties in Kent.
So, mostly sound, always had a great time, but the bouncers helped a lot, they used to make sure us girls left safely, and they had cab numbers of trusted cab firms, if it was a single girl going home, they had the number of a female driver only can company that only operated from clubs at night. Was a godsend.
However, I got myself into a not very nice situation. I had a huge row with my (now ex) boyfriend and realised it meant going home alone. Had no money on me as he had my stuff in his coat pocket. Could get in my bedsit easily as I never locked the door and someone was always up to let me in.
A guy I'd known years offered to walk me home. I had had a few but felt totally safe with him.
When I got back, he said he would make us coffee, I must have got in, and fallen asleep cos I was pissed.
I woke up at some point, he was ripping my tights off me, he had already pulled my skirt out the way. He didn't realise I had woken up and I froze at first. When he had finished on my tights (and I remember in my half drunk/half shocked state I was really miffed about the rights as they were vintage Dior from the eighties), he started tugging my underwear. It was at that point I knee'd him straight in the face. He recoiled back, groaning, I really clocked him one as his face was bleeding. I then grabbed a rolling pin I had in my drawer next to the bed, and screamed get the fuck out now.
He then grabbed my arm and spat on my ear that I could do one thing to him or another, both sexual, and I just screamed as hard as I could.
Luckily, two lads who lived down the hall heard, piled through my door and grabbed him, giving him a good kicking as they chucked him out.
I never reported it. I was so embarrassed. I felt it was my fault. My boyfriend told me it was my fault. That it was my "bad rep" and letting a boy in I was asking for it.
The guy later raped 3 women. It was in the press. I felt fucking dreadful. And responsible. Because I had shut up and never reported it.
I now think that it was a combination of not trusting the police as they weren't fans of the shared house I lived in, not having support from my boyfriend, and feeling embarrassed that did it.