International research has discovered that a mere 6% of rape cases are reported to the police.

Fear, shame, and victim-blaming are contributing factors as to why so many victims decide not to come forward and speak out. Even in the cases where they do speak, it is not unusual that the victim decides to remain anonymous. Today a female Reddit user chose to speak out about an assault that occurred last week. Her story is an important one that will help break down the stereotypes that surround sexual assault and help others understand the victims experience. Her story is told over two posts and is arranged here in chronological order for clarity.

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“I was by raped by strangers on Thursday night.”

My husband did a really stupid thing, and we had a fight and he went to bed at like midnight. I decided to have a drink and then take a walk to calm myself down. I live in a fairly ok neighborhood, and walked home from work at like 1, 2am. Nothing bad or even slightly creepy ever happened to me. I walked down the normal street I take when I take a walk, and noticed there were two men also walking on the other side of the street. There are apartments, and, again, I'd never had anything bad happen to me and while I was a little guarded I didn't feel unsafe. I continued walking, but they crossed the street and turned toward me. I picked up the pace, but they overcame me and started talking and saying some really disgusting things. I tried to walk faster and get somewhere with a little bit more light but one of them grabbed my arm and the other told me I had better not yell or they'd hurt me. I was pushed into an alleyway and groped and attacked. Only one penetrated me, then they pushed my head against the building hard enough to make me see stars and then they left while I was regaining my senses. I sat there and cried for a long time before I walked home and showered and went to bed. In the morning my husband's stupid thing ended up becoming a REALLY stupid and awful thing, and I felt like I couldn't say anything because I should have called the police, and now I thought my husband would think I was lying in order to make him feel even worse. I told my husband Saturday night. He was very supportive but told me that we absolutely had to go to the police. So on Sunday morning, we went into the police station to... give a statement? Open a claim? Just tell them I guess. I had never seen my assailants before. I didn’t think I could recognize them if I saw them again. I know how important it is to tell the police when something like this happens, but, I really didn't want to have to talk about it and relive it with a stranger. We went in, and since the station is closed on Sundays, had to use the little hand held phone to tell them why we were there. I naively was under the impression that I could say, "I was sexually assaulted and need to talk to a police officer." I was wrong. I had to tell the ambiguous stranger on the dinky telephone in the lobby my whole story. Then he told me to wait while he called someone in to talk to me. My husband and son were with me and we waited about 20 minutes for an officer to come. He took me into a tiny interview room, set up a recorder and a pen and pencil for himself, and asked me to tell him what happened. He spent most of the time asking me what I feel were irrelevant details. I gave him the address where my assault took place, and he asked me no less than three times what texture the wall I was pushed up against while I was raped felt like. He asked me why I didn't have any scratches or abrasions on my face. It felt like he didn't believe me at all. He asked me over and over and over where exactly it happened and to tell him exactly word for word all the disgusting things my assailants were yelling at me before they attacked me. I felt humiliated. Then, he asked my husband to talk to him alone. My husband said the officer asked him things like how long we'd been married, were we happy, why was I on a walk alone. I know these questions are important and he needed to ask them. But I felt like I was put through the wringer and then dumped onto the lobby floor where my support was immediately removed. I wasn't able to sit and cry and hold my husband before he was whisked away to verify my story. When we were done he said he needed to collect my clothing, which obviously is what he needed to do. We asked him to please park down the street because we have family visiting right now and I really don't want to have to explain to my sister-in-law and nieces and mother and father-in-law why the police were in our driveway. He didn't. He parked at the foot of our driveway, where my father-in-law immediately saw and came to ask what was up. My husband thankfully was able to make something up and I hid in my bedroom for the rest of the day.   Planned Parenthood On Monday I went to Planned Parenthood for STI testing and to get resources for counseling. I have nothing but good things to say about PP, and I will absolutely always support them 100%. But the visit and the exam were horrific to me, no fault of theirs. I was given an exam and pre-emptively treated for gonorrhea/chlamydia via pills and an injection, as well as given the ELLA emergency contraceptive. I was also treated for a yeast infection and examined for damage to my vagina and cervix, and to make sure my IUD had not been dislodged. The doctor was unable to tell that because of the swelling and inflammation from my attack and the yeast infection. I am to return to the clinic in 30 days to retest for STIs, get the first of many HIV pricks, and another exam to make sure my IUD is in place.   Today Today, Tuesday, my husband and I had a concert planned. We'd bought the tickets months ago and I was so angry that some horrible fucking scum of the earth pieces of shit were going to make me derail my life because they were awful people, so, we decided that we were still going to go. We had a good time and for awhile, I was able to stop thinking about what happened to me. We got home, and the cat got out. My husband asked me to leave the side door cracked so he could get in. I can't. And now I'm thinking about all this again and I just don't know how I am going to deal with this. I am so angry that I'm afraid. I'm so angry that I had to go through a police interrogation, a vaginal exam, a huge dose of hormones, a giant dose of strong antibiotics, and, now, the fear of HIV for the next year. I can't have sex with my husband. I physically cringed and pushed away my mother-in-law when she tried to hug me. I have no patience with my son because I'm just so angry. And now I'm worried about the stupid, adorable cat.   If you’ve been affected by this story and need support, please contact the Rape Crisis Centre on 1800 77 88 88.