Jane’s Story: The Older Guy and The Black Out

It’s taken me five years to gain a true perspective over what happened to me, but even now I cannot be certain.
It always seemed like my fault.
I got myself into a scary situation and wasn’t sensible enough to get myself out of it
I was 17 years old.
I was a virgin.
Being a taller girl, I wasn’t used to getting much attention in school. I was always the friend who watched from the sidelines as my close classmates entered relationships and experienced young romances. That changed when
I met Mike. I used to go to clubs using my sister’s ID, when one night I met a guy. I told him I was 18 and he was around 22/23. He was a student at a local university, we chatted, we kissed, we exchanged numbers.
We stayed in contact for a short while, until I eventually revealed my real age. Fairly he cut off communication.
This was until the event at which we had met returned, when he text me and asked if I was going – so resumed the conversation. We went to the event with our separate groups of friends, met and kissed.
A short time after, he took me on my first ever date. He drove to my town, we went to a restaurant and had dinner, kissing again at the end of the night. I couldn’t believe that I was finally experiencing a romance.

One night a while later, we met again on a night out. This night he told us he was throwing an afterparty at his student house, so me and my friends went back with him. The house was gross, yet an experience happened which I never had experienced before. He led me to his room, kissed me, fingered me until my friends knocked on his door and said it was time to go.

After this, I began to realise that I did not have feelings for this man, but rather had been caught up in the excitement of being desired by an older guy. I’d thought that I would end things, but when he invited me to meet all of his university friends, I thought I’d give it one last shot.

This was the night that still hurts, five years on.

I’d come to see him on the premise we’d go to a couple of pubs and then get a late train home. I went to his house, met his friends and played some drinking games. All seemed well. My friend Jade came along for the fun to join me. This was after I recall him saying something along the lines of ‘Im glad you ended up coming on your own, I get you all to myself’. I met Jade and we went back to the house and played some more drinking games.

I eventually became so intoxicated that I could barely walk. This is where the blackout starts.

We got a taxi to the club. I could barely stand. I wasn’t allowed into the club because he was holding me up where I was so clearly drunk, but he managed to get me into a neighbouring club.

I don’t remember anything in there.

Jade met us and the three of us went to McDonald’s – I don’t remember this but Jade showed me videos afterward. I’d not even been able to hold my own head up, resting it on the table.

Next thing I remember is projectile vomiting in the street. I couldn’t tell you what time this was, but clearly I wasn’t able to get the last train home.

I imagine he got me in a taxi and took me back – simply because I don’t think I’d have managed the 15 minute walk.

I only remember patches of what else happened.

I remember his member inside of my mouth and me saying ‘less teeth’

I remember him covering my mouth at one point – I think he was pleasuring me and I was being too loud

I remember him being on top of me.
I remember telling him I was a virgin.
I remember trying to stop it, despite being so inebriated.
I do not remember whether he stopped.

I woke up the next day – him fully clothed, myself naked. It was around 6.30am. He tried to pleasure me and convince me not to get dressed. I did get dressed and went looking for Jade. She wasn’t in their spare room. I called her, it came from one of the other bedrooms. She was 16, had fully consensual sex with one of mike’s housemates and told him she was 18.

It was then that I noticed the pain on my chin – a small scab. A burn? A mark from falling? I had no idea. There was a hole burnt into my top over the breast and there was a rip on the thigh in my jeans. My sandals were also broken.

I found Jade and insisted we left, taking one of the first trains

I told a few people about this night, Jade turning it into a comical story of a drunken state reached by the pair of us – skipping over the details regarding how incapacitated I was.

I felt so uneasy about the whole night, I remembered so little of it and described it to people as ‘it was like 30 seconds and then I stopped it’ – although to this day I don’t know if that is the truth.

A short while after, I sent a very diplomatic text to mike, telling him that he’d made me feel great about myself and been so much fun but I thought it best not to see each other again. He replied very amicably and that was that.

As the years went on, the uneasiness around this rose. I never told any boyfriends and always thought I was an idiot for getting myself into that state and that situation.

Only as rape and consent becomes a more prevalent topic in the media do I realise what happened to me. I was too drunk to consent and I will never know if he stopped when I said to.

Sharing this story brings a weight off of my shoulders. I know that a bad thing happened to me and now that I am able to identify it, I feel empowered to move on with my life
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