I was at a theme party at a flat where I knew (at least vaguely) most of the people there from the extended group of new friends/acquaintances. This was the sort of uni party where everyone wore revealing/outrageous costumes, and everyone got quite drunk.

By late in the evening I was too drunk to stand up by myself, and permitted two guys I knew vaguely, as friends who I didn’t find attractive, to take turns kissing me on the dance floor. I wasn’t into them but my drunk logic went that it was just kissing so wasn’t a big deal. Also, I couldn’t stand up by myself very well and my friends had left, so help standing up was good.

If that is where my story ended I would’ve been a bit embarrassed the next day, and my friends would’ve teased me a bit. But I was in control of what happened up ’til then, and while I would have regretted my silly drunken decisions to kiss those guys, they were MY silly decisions.

When the party broke up it made sense to share a taxi with someone since my place was on the way to his place. This happened to be one of the guys I had kissed earlier in the night, but I had stopped kissing him a while before leaving, and we had shared a taxi before to save money. When we got to my place I gave him $10 to cover my share of the fare, said goodnight, closed the taxi door, took my high heels off, and walked up to my house.

As I was getting the key out to open the door the guy (my ‘friend’) turned up on the doorstep next to me. I was confused and asked if he needed more money for the cab cos I could get some from inside, but he said he’d sent the taxi away already. I said I would get money and call him another taxi. I said I didn’t want him there, there was nowhere for him to stay.

I didn’t want him to come into the house, but I still lived at my parents’ house and didn’t want to wake them up at 2 in the morning. So I let him in. I think I said I’d make him a bed on the couch, but he said he was fine with sleeping in my bed. I let him into my room, again not wanting to wake anyone up. I had been wearing a corset for over 6hrs and was so tired (and drunk but sobering up), and just wanted to pass out. I took off my stockings and the corset and went to bed with the rest of my clothes on and closed my eyes to make it clear I was going to sleep.

He got into my bed and started touching and kissing me. I don’t know if I said ‘No’. I definitely made ‘I don’t like this’ noises, and moved to make it as hard as possible for him to take my clothes off. But then I went along with it. I didn’t want to wake up my parents, and I didn’t want him to tell all my new friends that I was frigid or bad in bed, in case that was the only reason they were friends with me. Also, it hurts less than resisting.

The next day I felt dirty in a way I had never felt before.

At that time I had had sex with ~10 people (such a slut! #sarcasm), including in relationships, hook ups with friends, and casual flings. I thought of myself as a sexually empowered 20 year old feminist, who enjoyed sex and told people about it, cos why should only men get to enjoy it.
Maybe this is why I never told anyone at the time that it felt like rape. They knew me as someone who had sex with quite a few people, so why not this guy, who I had kissed earlier in the night. Or they would’ve just thought I was lying cos I regretted it the next day since he wasn’t the most attractive of the group of friends.

The only person who I told that it felt like rape to me was a boyfriend a couple of years later. He called me a whore and a slut, and said it wasn’t rape and that I just was embarrassed cos he was ugly. So I guess I was right about people’s opinions.

It was about 10 years ago and I still don’t know if the guy ever knew I felt that way, or if he thought it was ok/consensual. I see him around, as I’m still in touch with that group of friends, but I’m too scared to ask.