Time To Talk About It
I feel like I have been walking around with the heaviest backpack on my shoulders for eternity. And finally, it is time for me to shed this thick layer of armour and talk about it. It’s all well said and done to say that I should’ve done so months ago. But now is the time.
In the summer of 2018 I was sexually assaulted by a taxi driver. I took this to the police immediately. I have had several interviews with them, they have had several witnesses come forward and have received numerous statements and pieces of evidence, however, they have never even spoken to the male involved, the rapist, even though I could tell you his name, life story and number plate.
It seems that unless they have physical (sperm) evidence that nothing can ever come from a reported rape crime, even if everything else adds up.
This has been shit. No other word to describe it. Very British and to the point, if only our police-system could be the same…
I have been single for almost a year now and it’s getting to the point where my friends are trying to set me up with guys and throw me on dates, people have even began asking me out on proper dates, yet I can do nothing but turn them all down. I used to be a party-girl (barf at that expression, but if the shoe fits), yet now my Friday and Saturday nights consist of hanging out with my mum and going to bed by 11pm sharp.
This experience has changed my whole perception of men and getting drunk and going out.
Yes, I do still have close male friends that cheer me up and lovingly accompany me to therapy sessions since the ordeal, but nothing close. My ex stays in close contact with me and helps me at times since this is a whole load of fucked up, and I guess that I need someone who really knows me, right now, to stay close.
I hate it when guys judge me by my looks and it seems like that’s all they’re after. It’s so refreshing to have someone like me because I make them laugh or that I’m clever, because my ‘looks’ wound up with me getting sexually assaulted, and then I got screwed over by our fucked up rape-law system.
Once again – they haven’t even spoken to the guy.
Because, guess what everyone…? I could be making the whole thing up just for ‘jokes’.
You know, how us women do, draw attention to ourselves. I could have deliberately changed my whole look on life, my lifestyle, my attitude, my behaviour in general, my job and ditched my novel just to ruin some Asian dude’s life: a guy that I don’t even know at all; chubby, mid-forties, married, with kids.
Yeah, I could just be having a laugh with this: even recruiting club managers, policemen, friends and family to make statements: all in the aid of ‘having a laugh’.
Before the summer of 2018 I had a job which I relished, a life that I enjoyed and friends that I cherished, I had hopes, and dreams. I was on track to write and finish an insatiable novel – but now I have never felt more lost.
Burlesque has always been an outlet for me. I have been dancing professionally since I was eighteen years old – more than five years. Yet now, every time I try to choreograph a new routine I feel dirty, as if my body is now taunted. I barely feel like it’s mine anymore. Let alone anyone else’s.
If I’m ever going to date again, I need someone to look past my looks, past my body and like me for me.
I know that Georgia Nicholson said, ‘Boys don’t like girls for funniness’, but I’m hoping to find someone that does.
So, this is the end of my application for First Dates UK 2019, I really hope that I get accepted to appear on the show,
Xoxo Ellie Fucking J xoxo