A “subtler kind” of trauma | Sian Cowman

Sian Cowman discusses a harrowing and personal experience regarding the misconceptions surrounding rape.

Recently, I set up a course of self-defence classes for women in UCC. We’re learning some really effective moves, useful for defending ourselves against any kind of physical assault. At the end of the class, the instructor reminds us not to walk home at night through unlit areas, and to keep our car keys in our hand as a weapon in case of attack.Useful advice, but it made me think. What am I most afraid of walking home at night? What are the classes designed to protect ourselves against? The implication is that as women, our greatest fear on the streets is to be raped.But actually, most rape is committed by people the survivor knows. Last year, of survivors of sexual assault who went to member organisations of Rape Crisis Network of Ireland, 90% knew the perpetrator.In most people’s minds, rape is associated with a violent attack down a dark alleyway. While this happens and is a very traumatic experience for the survivor, the stats point to most rape being of a subtler kind. If most rape is committed by a person known to the survivor, then it most likely happens in everyday situations: at home, at work, at a house party.I’m going to tell a very personal story that illustrates this, and incidentally, looks at many of the other myths around rape.When I was 16, I was discovering the world of drink and parties. My best friend and I were regularly underage drinking in a bar where we knew the barmen, and we’d party with them after the bar closed. They were part of a circle of people who’d moved to Dublin to work in bars. My friend was going out with one of them.We were all having a bit of fun back at the house, and there was a guy who was paying me a bit of attention. At 16, I was discovering my own sexuality, and as a teenager who’d been gawky and unattractive up until then, it was a revelation to discover that men were attracted to me. I flirted back.When I got off the couch to go to the bathroom, I discovered he’d undone the zip at the back of my trousers. Instead of being angry, I remember how embarrassed I was. I was in a room full of people who I felt were all way cooler than me, and surely they were all laughing at me.I went up to the bathroom and the next thing, he’d followed me in and grabbed me. We kissed for a couple minutes and quickly he asked me to go upstairs to one of the bedrooms. I said no, and he kept wheedling and fondling me. I kept saying no, and he kept at me. He was between me and the door and he was much taller and stronger than me.I remember thinking, ‘Just scream, Sian!’, but I was too embarrassed that all the cool people downstairs would think what a wimp I was, and what a fuss I was kicking up over nothing. Surely I should give in, hadn’t we been drinking together all night, and hadn’t I been flirting with him since we got to the party?So I allowed him to lead me upstairs and have sex with me – rape me. But it wasn’t until about ten years later that I actually acknowledged it as rape. The day after the rape, and for many years after, I actually thought it was my own fault, for all the reasons outlined above. But nothing gives anyone the right to have sex with someone else when they say no – not drunkenness, not flirting, not dress, nothing!