‘While I was travelling alone, three men raped me.’

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I wasn’t black and blue; I hadn’t clawed my way out of the situation. My throat was not raw from screaming for help. My clothes not torn, my body not dumped on the side of a riverbank.

I looked completely normal to the outside world. Three men chose to have sex with a woman whose only consent was to cry into the pillow. Her lifeless body passed around like a joint, calmly and without question.

This my friends, is the problem.

I had been through something extremely traumatic, but because I didn’t act immediately, I found it more and more difficult to do anything about it. I hated myself for not rolling over, punching them in the face, running outside naked and begging for help. I hated myself for drinking too much tequila. I hated myself, with every inch of my being that morning.

In the hours that followed, I hated myself for not being able to comprehend what happened. I lay on the…

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