Rape

Very interested in this SlutWalk thing that has been going on the last few months. Basically, women are marching for their right to dress however they like without fear of being raped. It is all too easy for people to say that women who wear short skirts are "asking for it". That's bullshit. Women should be able to feel safe when they go about their business, no matter what they are wearing. It is time to end the victim-blaming mentality and start going after the men who think it is acceptable to dominate and violate women (and men) in this way.

There are certain issues in my past that I have chosen not to broadcast, mainly because I knew it would be used against me. But here is my story.

When I was living in LA, I had a group of very close girlfriends and we would all hang out and have fun together. One night, we all decided to go out to dinner and then go play some pool, do a little dancing, you know... what college kids in their early 20s do.

We were at the pool hall/bar (Q's in Pasadena; I think they are gone now) when a male friend of one of the girls showed up. She said they had classes together and that he had asked her out (she had a boyfriend) and now they were pretty good friends.

By this point, I had had maybe 2 beers. I can handle my drink so this was nothing for me. This guy then bought me another beer and I really started to feel it. This was unlike me but I put it down to the fact that it was hot and I was tired from spending the day in uni.

After that point, my memory gets very patchy.

I kinda remember trying to play pool but that is it.

My next clear memory was waking up inside a Metro station in Hollywood at about 5am. I was on the floor by the stairs. I was in agony but was unsure why. I recognised where I was so I made my way to the platform and caught a train back to my part of Hollywood.

At home, I jumped in the shower and then went to bed. I woke up a few hours later and went to see my boyfriend and did some shopping (back in Pasadena).

At that point, I started getting funny little snatches of memory. Nothing significant; a white sports car, a leopard print clock...

I couldn't work it out so just carried on with my day. I was still in pain but thought maybe I had fallen down the stairs or something.

The next morning, I had a shower and realised I was covered in bruises. Not bruises consistent with a fall down the stairs; I had clear hand prints all over my chest, arms, legs...

I called the mutual friend and asked her what had happened.

She explained the girls had all left and I stayed with the guy and then he drove me home but that he had told her we had hooked up.

I was horrified. I had a boyfriend who I loved very much and this guy was hideous.

Back in college a few days later, some girl came up and called me a slut and then stormed off. I had no idea who she was. Then some guys started pointing and whispering. I told em to fuck off and went to class.

I caught up with the mutual friend again and she was very upset. She had overheard the guy telling his buddies that he had roofied me.

I knew 3 beers was not enough to make me lose my memory.

I made the decision not to go to the police, purely because I did not have much I could tell them.

I put out the word that the guy had a tiny penis and that he was a psycho and left it at that. I only saw him once afterwards and he tried to be all friendly but I just blanked him.

So that is the end of it? No. He went on to become a teacher and worked with vulnerable kids in a very deprived part of LA. Again, nothing I could do as I knew the LAPD would not be interested.

I convinced myself that it had been a one-off, an opportunistic event, he was a good guy deep down...

He's in prison now. He raped someone else.

I've never felt like a victim, though. I think, mainly, because I have little memory of anything (a few other things have returned over the last 9 years but I think it may be false memory syndrome because of the trauma). I do believe if I had tried to report it to the police or told any friends, I would have been blamed for it; after all, I was wearing a dress and had had a few beers...

But I was not to blame for what happened. If he had not been there, I would have had another couple of drinks and then called my boyfriend to come and get me, same as any other night.

I still get angry when people try to use sexuality against me though. I view it as an attempt to break me. I am a confidant woman; I know what I want and I don't let the small-mindedness of others affect me. But still they try...

Someone (I say someone but I know exactly who it was) spent an evening using search terms like "fat tattooed slut", "tattoo whore", "irezumi muzan angry slut", "Hoppo blog tart" to find my blog. They know that the search terms show up and I can see them. What's the fucking point? Is every woman who is confident a slut now? Idiot.

OK I appreciate beautiful men and I will go to bed with someone if I really like them. I don't pick up random guys in bars; I am having fun and doing what I want to do. Again, that does not make me a slut! It is a case of living my life and having as few regrets as possible... one of my biggest regrets has always been not doing Cozy Powell when I had the chance...

But anyway...

That's my story. I hope it makes some small-minded people understand that when we are raped, we are not "asking for it" and the way we dress makes no difference whatsoever.

The second girl he raped was 15 and wearing jeans and a loose sweater.

And he did ruin her life.