Trigger warning: this article includes a graphic description of sexual assault
In a previous article I highlighted the terrifying statistic that 1 in 3 women have experienced gender based violence globally and 1 in 4 women have been raped or sexually assaulted since the age of 16 in the UK alone. Let that sink in for a moment. That means that the chances are that either you know the one in four or you are the one in four.
In the wake of the abuse scandal at Harrods, as well as the recent Newsnight episode entitled Trump & The Epstein Files (12 November 2025), I reached out to speak to one survivor of rape about her experience and what progress, if any, she feels society has made in how we treat survivors and the pernicious rape culture we still live with. She has understandably asked to remain anonymous, so for the purpose of this article we shall call her Calleigh.
Calleigh
Calleigh was, in her own words, “your typical upper middle-class teenager”. Brought up to be prim and proper, a lady as such, never step out of line and for goodness’ sake don’t cut the nose off the Brie! She had a variety of hobbies and interests, excelled at school, and had a wide friendship group. Some her parents approved and others they did not. Sure, she skirted the line occasionally, but she never really dared cross it.
Calleigh grew up in a mixed faith family. Her mum was, and still is, a Church of England Christian, her dad, Jewish, albeit non practicing and Jewish by birth and culture rather than by religion. As such, Calleigh was brought up in the Christian faith. I mention this not because it plays a part in what happened, but more because it affected reactions afterwards.
The summer of 1999 was both an exciting time and a sad time for Calleigh. Earlier that year she had taken her GCSEs and the results were due in. She had recently come back from the family’s annual summer holiday to France and she was very much looking forward to starting her A-levels. Tragically, one of her beloved uncles had passed away shortly after they got back – one she was very close to, but despite her deep grief at her loss she was determined to do him proud.
As she collected her GCSE results, opening the envelope with trepidation and seeing that she had secured her place at sixth form, she could never have imagined that in only a few short weeks her entire world would be turned upside down and her once promising future left in shreds.
The night everything changed
At 16 Calleigh was old enough to be left alone when her parents went out. They didn’t do so often, but on this evening they were visiting friends to have supper and play bridge. By this time Calleigh’s older sister was at university so it was just Calleigh and the cats.
A lot of the details of that night are still locked away in a vault in Calleigh’s head and as a result are hazy – something that will be of importance later on; she calls it her “Pandora’s box”. One thing that remains etched into her consciousness though are the house rules: “If you need anything, contact the neighbour across the road.” And, “Do not invite anyone over while we are gone”. Simple enough rules to follow, but she was a teenager and a bit of a renegade, so when her friend contacted her asking what she was up to, she told him she was sitting at home doing not a lot really. She had known him for years having first met him when she was about seven years of age. He was a year older than her but they had been firm friends from the beginning. She was from one side of the area, he was from the other – or, as her parents would say, “the wrong side of the tracks”.
After a bit of back and forth via text – mobiles were a fairly new commodity back then – when asked if she wanted company, despite the house rules, she said “Sure, why not?” After all, what was the worst that could happen? Her parents weren’t the type to ground their daughters, and how would they know anyway?
The doorbell rang a short while later – Rob only lived about a two-minute walk round the corner; as soon as she answered the door, she knew something was wrong. The hair on the back of her neck was standing up. She didn’t know why, but she sensed danger. Her recollection of this night is patchy, locked away in her Pandora’s box for her own wellbeing. She recalls the look in his eye and the speed at which the following happened: Rob rushed her, forcing her back into her house, and the door slammed with the loudest noise she had ever heard. She scrambled free from him briefly and tried to make it to the landline phone by the bottom of the stairs, but he was too quick. She fought like hell. He was stronger than her. She doesn’t recall screaming, nor does she recall saying “No!” She does however recall fighting him and then eventually realising that it was fruitless.
When it was over she collapsed to the floor, a crumpled heap lying by the bottom of the stairs, the telephone receiver dangling down. She has no idea how long she lay there for. She vaguely recalls the door closing but it sounded faint, like it was someone else’s door in someone else’s house. It was almost as if she was viewing this from above the action, a fawn laying curled up in a ball: pathetic, vulnerable, and defeated, time standing still.
The aftermath and a lifetime of guilt
Gradually she came out of her daze. She could have been laying there for five minutes or for hours. She doesn’t know; but as the haze lifted she felt a sense of urgency – what if her parents came home? From somewhere she found the strength to get up, tidy up, and erase all trace of what had happened. She threw her clothes in the washing machine and came up with a plan. No one could ever know. If her mother asked about why her clothes were in the washing machine soiled with blood, she would simply say her period came unexpectedly.
Calleigh had no experience of sex. She’d had boyfriends, if you can call them that, but her religious upbringing and her mother had made it very clear that virginity was sacrosanct. As reality dawned on her, she knew her life was never going to be the same, but she had no idea how much Rob had knocked it off its trajectory.
For a long time she couldn’t talk about it. She buried it in her vault. She didn’t even realise she had been raped. After all, she asked him round which was against the rules. She couldn’t remember the night minute by minute, so had she asked for it, had she given him mixed signals? But most importantly, she couldn’t remember saying “No”. At school and largely in society back then, as now, there was a clear message, “No means no”, so if someone says no the consent is gone. But what if someone can’t remember saying no?
As is common, Calleigh blamed herself. She suffered in silence, never talking about it. She didn’t go to her family – to this day they don’t know what happened. She took his guilt and absorbed it like a sponge, wearing it around her neck like a heavy weight. If only she had fought harder, if only she hadn’t been wearing her halter neck top. Her rapist, on the other hand, bragged about “taking the cherry of the posh chick”. This only reinforced the guilt she felt and her belief that what had happened couldn’t have been rape. But he hadn’t “taken it”, he had brutally and violently stolen it.
A few days later, her mother, having sensed something was wrong, went snooping in her bedroom and stumbled upon a diary she kept. In it a line read: “Something happened with Rob the other night.” Her mother’s reaction wasn’t one of concern, or perhaps it was in her own way. She didn’t sit her down and ask her what happened. Instead, she took Calleigh to a sexual health clinic where she was subjected to tests for sexually transmitted infections. Her mother had read the diary, recalled the blood stained clothing and assumed she had had sex. Her reaction was one of horror and contempt. This reiterated to Calleigh that she had caused this and it must never be spoken of, so she didn’t speak.
Days turned into weeks which turned into months and years. Gradually her life fell off a cliff. A once promising student flunked her A-Levels and had a full-on breakdown that lasted years. Years of self-harm, of partying too hard, of abusing her own body because, after all, that’s what she was worth. At least in her mind.
Part two of Calleigh’s story will be released later on today.
If you have been affected by Calleigh’s story, there are places and people you can speak to by contacting one of the below organisations:
Sources of help in Central England
The Blue Door is there to support people in Humberside, Hull, Scunthorpe, Grimsby and the East Riding of Yorkshire. It offers listening, counselling, practical advice and help with working out how to stay safe if a situation is ongoing. Specialist support is available for men and LGBTQ+ people.
Freeva provides support to people from Leicester, Leicestershire and Rutland. It has a helpline and deals with domestic abuse as well as sexual abuse. Specialist support for men, BAME people and LGBTQ+ people is available. It can arrange counselling and referrals to other services.
Lincolnshire Rape Crisis has a 24/7 helpline and helps people regardless of gender. It offers specialist support for young people and help is available in several different languages.
Notts SVS Services helps people across Nottinghamshire who are 13 or over. It has specialist support for young people, men, LGBTQ+ people and BAME people. It also helps survivors of female genital mutilation (FGM). It has a helpline and a drop-in centre and offers traditional counselling as well as CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) and EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy.
SARAC provides support for people aged 11 and older who live in Burton, Lichfield, Tamworth, Uttoxeter, Swadlincote or South Derbyshire. Specialist support is available for young people and men. It has a helpline, can provide counselling, and can make referrals to additional services.
Staffordshire Women’s Aid is there for everyone over the age of four, regardless of gender, and also offers services for family members and others affected because a loved one has been assaulted. Users can choose if they would rather speak to a woman or a man. They offer counselling and practical help and will even be there in court to provide support if needed.
SV2 helps people in Derby and across Derbyshire, regardless of gender. It can provide counselling and help with practical issues, with specialist services available for under18s.
West Mercia Rape & Sexual Abuse Support Centre is there for people in Herefordshire and Worcestershire. It offers counselling and support groups for adults, as well as specialist services for those aged five to 18. Its team is specially trained to understand the different issues faced by LGBTQ+ people and members of BAME communities.
National support services
Sarsas supports survivors of sexual abuse and violence of all kinds, regardless of how long ago it happened and regardless of their gender. It offers a helpline and a live chat service. It can also arrange specialist support for people who are neurodivergent or have learning difficulties.
The 24/7 Sexual Abuse Support Line provides long term support to people aged 16 or over. It’s available round the clock in 24 languages and is a safe place to get help for migrants who don’t feel safe with other services because they don’t have leave to remain.
Victim Support can help with making the decision about whether to report an incident of sexual abuse, no matter how long ago it happened. Its specialist advisors can work out which charges might be possible and advise on what to expect, as well as providing support during the process.
Samaritans provide a 24/7 helpline for free. Call them on 116 123
Rape Crisis in England and Wales provide a 24/7 support line and online support
