One question gave me the courage to report my assault. Anonymous Published April 25, 2026 1:00pm
‘What are you going to do next?’ These words from Kevin*, one of my closest friends, caught me off guard. After more than six months in therapy, I’d finally spoken up about the sexual assault I’d experienced more than ten years previously, in a blog post I’d written mainly for my friends and family, as I didn’t know how to tell them all individually. I couldn’t imagine what else Kevin thought there was left to do. So what he said next floored me: ‘You need to go to the police and report him.’ His words felt like a slap in the face; they laid bare all my fears. I redirected all the anger I felt towards my assailant at him. ‘I can’t,’ I snapped. ‘It happened so long ago; what if they blame me, or don’t believe me?’ Kevin’s voice remained calm: ‘But what if he does it to someone else?’
A decade ago, I’d been assaulted by Mark*, a man I’d thought was my friend. I’d trusted him; I’d agreed that he could stay at my house – in my bed, because the sofa ‘wasn’t comfortable’, according to him. He’d helped himself to my body while I slept – leaving me feeling numb at first, then plagued by years of horrifying memories that I suppressed whenever they found their way back into my mind. I may have been able to dissociate from the memories, but the shame of that night wrapped around me, refusing to leave and impacting every part of my life.
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On November 25, 2024 Metro launched This Is Not Right, a campaign to address the relentless epidemic of violence against women. With the help of our partners at Women's Aid, This Is Not Right aims to shine a light on the sheer scale of this national emergency. You can find more articles here, and if you want to share your story with us, you can send us an email at vaw@metro.co.uk. Read more: Introducing This Is Not Right: Metro's year-long violence against women campaign Remembering the women killed by men in 2024
Since the moment it happened, I couldn’t help but blame myself, assuming that he’d done this to me because of something I had or hadn’t said or done. After I shared my blog post with my family and friends, I was told by a mutual friend of both mine and Mark that it had been sent to him. Apparently, he had admitted to his friends what he’d done – and said that he’d apologised to me the next day. For the first time in years, I was livid. Mark’s ‘apology’ the next day had come in the form of a text saying, ‘I’m sorry, but I thought it was what you wanted’ – but that was just a way of blaming me for his actions, of making him feel better about what he’d done. I was asleep, how could he have possibly thought that was what I wanted. I didn’t know what to do with all of this bottled up rage that finally found its way to the surface. So I called Kevin, and we spoke about it at length. That’s when he asked me what I was going to do about it.
I never intended to press charges after I was sexually assaulted; I didn’t want to put myself through more hell. But Kevin’s last words played on repeat in my mind for weeks – until, eventually, I spoke to a police detective friend of mine. I asked him what was likely to happen if I were to report the assault, and how I should go about it. I told him how scared I was about not being believed. I’d heard so many stories about how the police had blamed and shamed victims. Shame had been the only constant in my life since that night, and the thought of going into a police station and having them confirm my worst fear – that it was my fault – or worse, that they thought I was lying, was overwhelming. My friend told me my fears were legitimate and that these cases are often harder on the victims than they ever are on the perpetrators. He told me it wouldn’t be easy and was unlikely to make it to court because of its historic nature. Knowing all that, I did it anyway. There was this little voice inside me that kept saying, ‘What if he does it to someone else?’ I knew, as scared as I was, if I could stop another woman from going through what I did, I had to do something.
I reported the assault to the Met Police in April 2021. It was as easy as filling out a form online, and then being assigned a Sexual Offences Liaison Officer (SOLO). In my first online meeting with her in May 2021, I told the liaison in detail what had happened, something I had only done with my therapist. She immediately allayed the fears that had kept me awake at night. Not once did I feel disbelieved or blamed. Instead, I felt supported as she looked through the camera and made sure that I was ok.
What to do if you've been raped
If you have been the victim of rape, either recently or historically, and are looking for help, support is out there. If you have recently been raped and you are still at risk, ring 999 and ask for the police. Otherwise, the first step is to go somewhere you are safe. If you want to report your rape to the police, ring 999 or the police non-emergency line on 101. An Independent Sexual Violence Advocate (ISVA) will often be on hand to help you through reporting and even after you have made a statement, you can still decide to withdraw from the criminal justice process at any time. If you plan on going to the police, if possible, do not wash your clothes or shower, bathe or brush your teeth. If you do get changed, keep the clothes you were wearing in a plastic bag. These steps will help to preserve any DNA evidence your attacker may have left on your body or clothes. If you don’t want to contact the police, Rape Crisis suggest talking to someone you trust about what has happened; or you can ring one of the UK’s many rape and sexual assault helplines. Anyone aged 16+ can contact Rape Crisis's 24/7 Support Line by calling 0808 500 2222 or starting an online chat. If you have been injured, you’re best advised to go to your nearest A&E to seek medical treatment. If you are uninjured, you can go to your nearest Sexual Assault Referral Centre (SARC). The NHS has information on where to find your nearest centre here. If your rape is historic, you can still access support, including from the police – there is no time limit on reporting and your account can still be used as evidence. Read more here.
Because I’d moved abroad by that point, the Met had to communicate with my government and arrange for them to interview me. Eventually, I had to report to my local police station, where I made a statement to a female detective and a rape crisis counsellor. It was such a relief to finally have it on record. I walked out into the sunshine, feeling a small part of the shame start to slip away. My SOLO and I communicated via email regularly while the police were doing their investigation. She always kept me in the loop, telling me when they had spoken to Mark, to my friends, to the friends he’s admitted it to, but I didn’t know the depths of their investigation. I didn’t want to know. The only time I felt forgotten was when my case had been completed and sent to the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) for review in February 2022. At this point, I had to wait to hear if they’d decide to charge Mark. Everyone – the police, my friends, my family – told me not to get my hopes up, saying how these cases rarely make it to court. I tried to put it out of my mind and carry on with life, but for eighteen months, I lived in limbo; the decision was hanging over me. It was as if I had one foot in the past and one in the future, and not knowing whether I’d have to face Mark at a trial was daunting.
Learn more about rape in the UK
- According to Rape Crisis, 6.5million women in England and Wales have been raped or sexually assaulted, but 5 in 6 women don’t report rape
- The number of sexual offences in England and Wales reached a record high of 193,566 in the year ending March 2022
- UCL research found that rape offences have the highest not guilty plea rate of any offence (85%) and this has been the case consistently for 15 years
- ONS data reveals almost half of all rapes are perpetrated by a woman's partner or ex-partner, and End Violence Against Women have said that the victim knows the perpetrator in 85% of cases
- The ONS also found that more than 1 in 5 victims were unconscious or asleep when they were raped
I would email my liaison every so often to ask what was happening, but I always got the same reply: they were waiting on CPS to make a decision. Once in a blue moon, I would be asked to provide something, such as my therapist notes, for their consideration. I felt alone and forgotten, like I was the only one who still cared. Then, finally, a decision was made. I woke up one morning in August 2023 to an email from my SOLO and investigating officer, confirming the CPS had decided to charge Mark with ‘assault by penetration’. It took a moment to sink in. Everyone had warned me all along that it was unlikely to get to court, so I’d been waiting to be told there wasn’t enough evidence, that the case couldn’t be taken any further. To hear that this wasn’t over yet came as a shock. I was told he would go to the Magistrates Court but was likely to plead not guilty. I naively hoped he would admit what he’d done and live with the consequences. His case eventually got kicked up to the Crown Court, where he pleaded not guilty. His cowardice forced me to face even more hell. The trial date was set for the end of July 2024. It still floored me that I was going to have to stand in court, but I was ready to face him. He may have been a coward, but I was ready to give the shame I’d been carrying back to the person it belonged to.
Looking back, the process of reporting was terrifying. In a way, the thought of doing it was scarier than actually doing it. But being taken seriously by the police started me on a journey of healing and acceptance. Those years from making the initial report to going to trial were full of ups and downs. It was a hard journey full of unknowns; I didn’t always know how I was going to show up. I could be the version of me full of fear and shame of the past, or the version of me full of hope for a future where this was all over.
It also wasn’t easy for those who loved me, but no matter how I showed up on any given day, they were there to hold me when I cried or make me laugh when I needed to be distracted. They reminded me I had to continue living and not let the assault and the fear of court take over my life. In the end, Mark was not convicted. They found him not guilty. I wasn’t surprised: it felt like I’d been the one on trial, not him. What I was put through on that stand in the name of ‘justice’ was brutal, traumatic and disgusting. The real healing journey began after the courtroom traumatised me in a whole new ‘legal’ way.
*Name has been changed
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