The Complicated Relationship Between Trauma and Sexuality

TW: Description of rape/sexual assault

Our relationship with our own sexuality can be complicated. It isn’t a static, linear thing and changes in the relationship can come from change within ourselves or external influences. For anyone that has experienced sexual trauma, the effect on that relationship can be profound and can have lasting effects on relationships and self esteem. Society can still be resistant to talking about sex, especially when sexual trauma is brought up, but I think it is important for all that are healing that we do have and make space for these conversations.

After years of sexual abuse as a child and young adult, my relationship with my sexuality has been tempestuous and I don’t know if I will ever have a comfortable relationship with it. Sexual abuse was compounded by bullying by my peers for engaging in sexual behaviours, even though in the jokes they would be acknowledging that it was probably inappropriate. It led to my teachers finding out, and even though I was only in my early teens they were almost pleased - I didn’t get much attention from boys and I was always a bit weird and I remember some of my teachers smiling and saying something about how they were happy for me. The experience had been traumatic and people were mocking it or telling me to be happy. They didn’t find out about every incident, but one in particular made its way around the school and I didn’t stop hearing about it until I left school 4 years later. I was being pressured by “boyfriend” of about a week and his friends who were all at least 17 or 18. I said I didn’t want to a few times but every time I said no they would tease me and make fun of me more. He got more and more agitated. So I relented. I gave in. For that reason I always felt like I couldn’t really call it assault or rape, but looking back as an adult it clearly was. I was only 13 and he was 18. He’d had a recent fling of 13 and 14 year old girlfriends too, but I couldn’t see it at the time. He made me feel special. No one else was interested in me. He was violent and manipulative and I felt that instantly, but he knew a lot of people that weren’t nice to me at school and I knew if I did the wrong thing he could make school even worse for me. I think all of these reasons are why I said no the first few times, but eventually I felt like it was the only way out. This group of people had assaulted me before and the more persistent they got the more scared I was. We went into a spare bedroom together and it started immediately. I was scared and anxious so it hurt a lot. Then halfway through, the others bashed the door open and ran in, there were about 4 of them. They pulled the duvet covers off and started laughing at my body. They called me fat. They said I had too much hair. They couldn’t stop laughing at how disgusting I was. They got their phones out and started taking pictures, which I never found out what happened to. Eventually they left, and then it started again. After what felt like years, it was over and he swore me to secrecy saying he didn’t want anyone to know. He didn’t want anyone finding out we had slept together. I promised as I was embarrassed by this too and definitely didn’t want anyone at school finding out. I thought it was safe.

That was on a Friday. The following Monday I was walking to school and could hear people sniggering. As I got closer to school and closer to the crowds it got louder and I could feel big groups staring at me. Then people stopped trying to conceal it and started shouting things like “slut”, “disgusting”, “you’re ruined now”, “dirty”, "she's gross", "Katie's fat and hairy"... Other kids would joke about it in front of teachers to embarrass me and then teachers would either be disgusted or happy. I couldn’t work out how everyone knew, though. He promised he would keep it a secret so how did everyone know?

Eventually, another boy in my year, who would later do something similar to me after years of manipulation, told me that my “boyfriend” had told everyone at the pub that he’d had sex with me but that it was terrible because I was fat and acted like I was scared the whole time. I was humiliated and I never let it go - other kids would tease me about this for the rest of my time at school.

I became very hyposexual after this and felt repulsed by any mention or thought of sex. I now struggle with a lot of sexual based intrusive thoughts and I think this is where it started. I was a prude and would physically recoil if others talked about sex. When this incident happened, there weren’t many others sexually active yet as I was only around 13 or 14, but over the next couple of years as more of my peers started exploring sex it became an almost constant topic of discussion. Sometimes I would have panic attacks and would have to leave the classroom, which only got me shouted at by my teachers. I felt so much shame. That “dirty” feeling that leaves you showering over and over again in the immediate aftermath never really goes away.

I was bullied a lot for many reasons, but often because of the way I look. I didn’t get attention from boys, only when they felt entitled to it. They would constantly remind me that they would never have “proper” sex with me. Looking back, I’m surprised this wasn’t seen as an admission of guilt. By separating sex and what they did to me it was clear that they must have known deep down that what they were doing was wrong. Other times, boys would get close to me and I would fall for it every time. They would be so nice, so loving, so kind... everything I hadn't really felt before from anyone. They would tell me how much they wanted to be boyfriend and girlfriend but that they just didn't want other people's opinions, that we were better off if we kept it secret. This would carry on until they wanted sex, but I was terrified of sex now. I never wanted to have sex again. So either they did it anyway or they got angry at me and didn't talk to me again. My only consistent "relationships" with other kids my age was this way. So many guys would pretend to be interested in me to get what they wanted and it worked every time. I was so vulnerable to it that I couldn't even see it most of the time, and when I could see it I felt like I deserved it. I didn't deserve a proper boyfriend or proper love or proper friendship. I was horrible, fat and disgusting. This was what I deserved.

When I attempted to confide in teachers or my parents, supposedly “trusted adults”, I was either accused of lying or they told me to be grateful I was getting attention from boys. Eventually I believed that I was lying. I doubted my own memories and couldn’t tell what was real anymore. For a few years I didn't tell anyone any of it. I stopped bringing it up. The teasing didn't stop, but I felt I had brought it on myself and I deserved every bit of it. I had my peers at school, my teachers, and my parents telling me horrible things about myself every day - of course I deserve it. I kept it locked away in the back of my brain until my second year at uni when it came flooding out after a few litres of vodka.

In this time, during my late teenage years, my sexuality did a complete 180 accelerated by drugs, alcohol, and university party culture. I had freedom I had never had before - I could go where I want when I wanted, my parents didn't have to know any of it, my parents couldn't stop me, and no one here knew me. I drank hard and fast and I don't think I was sober at all for quite a few years. It made everything feel better until it made it worse, but by that point I had blacked out and couldn't remember anything anyway. I had always been impulsive but reached new levels at this point in my life. I was raped during my first week at university and this caused a mental breakdown that lasted a couple of years. I became even more impulsive and reckless and had a lot of one night stands. I was still scared of sex but now it became a form of self harm that was much more satisfying than anything else - it was physical and emotional self harm in one go. It fuelled the shame and I felt worse and worse about myself. I still felt like I deserved it so I lived with it and let it continue to spiral. After a few months of this I got into a relationship. You can probably imagine how that relationship ended based on what I have already written. It was toxic and volatile and I began questioning my perception of reality again and again. I was a psychopath. A narcissist. I was evil. Whilst my behaviour wasn't always innocent, I was led to believe I was imagining the abuse I faced. My abuser was charismatic and had a great talent for getting people on their side. It was easy to hate me, and again I knew I deserved it anyway. After the relationship finally ended, the destructive sex cycle started again - feel shame about sex, get drunk, have dangerous/impulsive/reckless sex, feel shame about sex... and so on. That went on for another few years before I met my current boyfriend, who thankfully is the odd one out here!

For the last eighteen months I have been sober and my mental health is still very fragile, but it is better now that it is not being compounded so heavily by substance abuse. Becoming sober has also brought me back closer to my relationship with my teenage sexuality - difficult and complicated. I find sex hard to talk about and it makes me feel disgusting and dirty even to talk about. Writing this is part of the healing process and it has taken months to finish as I struggle to write more than a sentence or two before I have to stop. My relationship with sex is unhealthy and always has been. My self esteem and self identity don't exist and are intrinsically linked to my negative response to sex. As I heal I hope this relationship heals too but it is a cyclical experience just like so many things in mental health.

If you are struggling with any of the issues raised here, please reach out to your local Rape Crisis charity, women's centre, or mental health services <3