How Do I Handle Being A Victim of Sexual Assault?

Estimated reading time: 12 minutes

Doctor’s Note: Today’s column involves discussion of sexual assault and sexual violence.

Dear Dr. NerdLove

I am a 46-year-old cishet white man, and I was sexually assaulted on the subway home from work last week. I’m not going to go into the details of the assault because I think about it enough, thank you very much. I’m still living with the terror of it as my attacker, in a hat and Covid mask exposing only his dark eyes, stared at me the rest of the ride, and I knew he was going to follow me home. There were no police or toll workers in the station at all, so he could do what he wanted on the platform. And given that I was on a crowded train, and nobody could look me in the eyes after, I wasn’t getting any help from my fellow commuters. I haven’t left my apartment in 5 days because I know he’s out there. When I did go out, I thought he was my barista because they are both the same size and have dark eyes. This, however, is all incidental.

Why I’m writing is that I don’t know what to do about it or how to talk about it. I’ve told a handful of people, and there’s something in that involuntary catch in their throat that really bothers me, so after the day of, I’ve kept it to myself.

Otherwise, I’m baffled. They don’t tell men what to do when this happens, don’t they? If there’s one thing I’ve learned from pop culture, it’s that male sexual assault is hilarious. From “Federal-pound-me-in-the-ass prison” in Office Space, to the knee-slapping image of Ving Rhames getting raped, to drop-the-soap gags in kids movies, male sexual assault is fun for the whole family.

I’m reminded of the time that I got mugged at gunpoint in Jersey City 20 years ago (I was asking for it: I was in Jersey City), and I told one of my loyal friends about it, and he proceeded to be ashamed of me because I didn’t fight back. I haven’t told any of my male friends about what happened, and I’m afraid to because I know that’s how they’re going to respond, if not to my face, then behind my back.

That’s why I wouldn’t call the police: I’m not going to be someone’s break-room joke. I’m not ashamed – it’s not my fault what happened – but I don’t want to be talked about like that. And, frankly, the amount of pressure people have been putting on me to file a report is kind of obnoxious.

I’m working from home, I’m eating, I’m showering, I’m not really sleeping, and I’m trying unsuccessfully to talk myself into going outside. I can’t get a counseling appointment until later this month, but I’m trapped home now. The check-ins from my friends have stopped, but my dread and anger are still here, and the loneliness has been settling in. I was alone on the train, I’m alone because I don’t know who to talk to, and I’m alone as a male survivor of sexual assault. I guess my question is, what do I do? I literally have no idea. I’m sorry, it’s not a very good question, but your input would mean a lot to me.

Sincerely,
It Wasn’t My Fault

Oh man, I am so, so sorry that this happened to you, IWMF. That’s a horrible thing to experience, and I’m glad you do understand that this was something that was done to you, not something that you “allowed” or somehow enabled.

And I’m also sorry that you’re having such a difficult time with this. I do want to say that what you’re experiencing is normal. What you describe – the feeling of isolation, the hypervigilence of looking for your attacker, not being able to bring yourself to leave your home – all sound like the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. A lot of people who’ve been sexually assaulted report similar feelings and experiences afterwards. In a lot of ways, this can feel like the attack hasn’t ended; the attack wasn’t just on your person but on your sense of safety, of control or even just having a sense of agency. I hope that the counselor you’ll be talking to is trauma-informed; this is the sort of thing that can require careful handling.

One thing I think you should realize is that you’re not alone. There are other men who’ve experienced what you have; according to RAINN, 1 in 10 men have been the victims of sexual violence, though that number is likely lower, due to men being understandably reticent to report their assault to the authorities. Brendan Frasier and Terry Crews have both been open and up front about having been sexually assaulted, and… well, as you might imagine, there’re a lot of folks who don’t take them seriously. I mean, Terry Crews is a six foot plus, 250 pound block of muscle stacked on top of even more muscles. Are we supposed to believe that he can be a victim of sexual assault?

Yes. Yes we are. Just as you were. Because this isn’t about “being manly enough to fight it of”; it’s about being the victim of a violent crime. People who’ve never actually been in a fight will talk all kinds of shit about how bad ass they’d be if someone stepped to them.

Nobody – except for folks who’ve experienced it – recognize that the inherent reaction to a crisis situation isn’t “fight or flight”, it’s “fight, flight, freeze or fawn“. And the vast majority of people? They’re gonna freeze. Not because they’re weak or cowardly or whatever, but because horrible shit is happening. Your brain vaporlocks because it can’t fully accept that this is really happening; it has to be a fucked up joke, right? Or a mistake? Meanwhile, the adrenaline dumps into your system and locks your muscles up while your head swims as you hyperoxygenate your blood through rapid breathing and your heart pounds like a kettle drum – all of  which is incredibly disconcerting when you’ve never experienced anything like it before. And then there’s the fact that, in the moment, you have no idea how bad this could be. It could be just some shitty person, or they could have an accomplice, they could have a knife or a gun or some other weapon… and while your brain is trying to process everything, your body is stuck in place.

But it’s far easier to blame victims for what’s been done to them, especially men; after all, men are supposed to be big, burly badasses. We’re not supposed to be put in danger, we ARE the danger. If you’re not walking around making other men quake for fear of drawing your ire, are you truly a man, or just a little girl?

These toxic ideas are part of why it’s so hard for men who’ve experienced sexual trauma, violence or abuse to come forward. So much of the supposed ideals that men are expected to adhere to involves dominance and aggression in the maintenance of a “natural” hierarchy; to have violence like this inflicted on you is a “sign” that you’re just “not a real man”. It’s not surprising that some – even many – men react with disdain to victims of violence, especially sexual violence. They want to believe that this is just the natural order of things. They want to believe that this is just weakness, that the victim must either be ok with it or deserved it somehow. Because otherwise… well, they’d have to face the very real possibility that they could be victimized just as easily, that their position in the dominance hierarchy isn’t as assured as they like to think.

Easier, then, to mock victims, than to react with compassion, to offer comfort and help.

Now, I do want to say that some of what you’re seeing in your friends isn’t necessarily mockery or disbelief that you, as a man, could be assaulted. There are times when the immensity or the awfulness of a situation is such that you simply have no idea how to process it. You want to say something, do something, but literally everything that you could think of is absurd in its insufficiency against the magnititude of what your friend, coworker, family member experienced. That catch in the throat may well be the “oh fuck, I don’t know what to do, here” reaction of someone who wants to help but feels powerless to do so.

So the first thing I would say to do is “don’t push your friends away”. I suspect that part of the reason why people have stopped checking in is that you’re very closed off right now – for entirely understandable reasons. You’re hurting, you’re raw, you find it very hard to trust or be vulnerable. At times like these, it can be incredibly hard to accept love or help or care from people, even when you desperately want it. That fear, that very understandable and reasonable fear that people are looking down on you or mocking you behind your back? That’s also going to make it difficult for the people who love and care for you to reach you. Not if you don’t let them in.

I know things are uncomfortable. But if you have friends who you believe you can trust and be vulnerable with, people who have demonstrated through their actions that they’re compassionate and understanding people who love you and care for you? Then sometimes you and they both need to try to push past that discomfort of “what do I do, here? How do I help” and just… be there.

It may be easier for you and for them if you can ask for something or tell them what you need from them, even if it’s just having a warm body in the room with you so you don’t feel isolated. Or they might be able to walk with you and help you get out of the house for a bit. Having someone there with you may make it easier for you to feel more secure, and you’ll have someone there who can help you if it all gets too overwhelming.

You don’t need to tell everyone, and you don’t have to tell folks everything. but if you have folks you can trust… let them help you. I promise, they want to. They just may not know how. If there’s something they can do for you, or that you need from them, then tell them. It’s much better than hoping that they’ll divine what you need, or their hoping that they’ll stumble over the exact right thing to say to you. Sometimes you have to reach out. Especially at times when the words are catching in your throat.

The next thing I would suggest is to call The National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-4673 or chat with one of their trained specialists via their website. They’re trained to listen, to give you the support you need, help you figure out next steps and understand what your options are. It’s free, it’s 100% confidential, and they’re focused on you and your health, safety and sense of security. They’re not going to push you to report it or to talk to anyone you don’t or can’t talk to right now; they’re going to be focused on helping you and what you need.

I think this would be an immensely important next step for you; it’ll help you figure out what to do next, what resources are available to you and how you can access them.

Similarly, I think it would be useful for you to find a support group for victims of sexual violence. Being able to talk this through with other people who understand and realize you’re not alone can be immense. If you can’t go in person, then there may be other options; you may be able to find one that meets via Zoom, for example. The specialists at RAINN may be able to help you find a group in your area that meets your needs.

I also think finding ways to deal with the PTSD you’re experiencing will be important, especially since you can’t see a counselor right away. Some of this will involve managing your stress or breaking cycles of panic. Mild exercise, like yoga or tai chi can be helpful here. The combination of slow, controlled physical motion along with controlling your breath – breathing in slowly, holding it, then exhaling slowly – helps slow your heart rate and forces your body to relax. Having people around is also helpful; isolation can exacerbate PTSD symptoms, especially when you’re feeling tense or unnerved or, worse, having a panic attack. You don’t need to talk to them about what happened; you just want to have them around. We’re pack animals; in times of crisis, having our pack with us is comforting. Their simple presence can make a difference.

There are also some things you can do in the interim. You may want to look at a self-directed cognitive behavioral therapy site like Mood Gym as a way to help sort your feelings and emotions, as well as recognize potential triggers. CBD is especially good at dealing with unwanted and intrusive thoughts. It isn’t going to be a cure, but it may help make things more manageable while you look into your options.

What you don’t want to do is self-medicate. I know it’s going to be tempting to try to drown out the thoughts, feelings or memories with booze or drugs, but they can actually hinder the healing process or make some of the symptoms worse. Depressants, in particular, can make those feelings of loneliness and isolation even more profound and more painful, and alcohol can cause your anger or irritability to spike and lead you to lash out. It’s hard, I know, especially when you can’t sleep or turn off your brain you just want a moment of peace. But this is one of those times when the solution only serves to make things even worse.

And one more thing. I promise that this is the only time I will say this but: at least talk with the counselors at RAINN about the possibility of filing a report with the police. I absolutely understand why you’re hesitant to report your assault. Cops in general have a dire record when it comes to dealing with victims of sexual crimes, and the toxic beliefs about manhood mean that they’ve often not taken male victims seriously.

But one thing that may be worth considering is your (again, understandable) worry about encountering this person again. However, if the police don’t know that a crime’s been committed, they won’t know to look for the guy that did this. Filing a report can help get him off the street, and may mean that you’ll feel like you can breathe a little more easily.

That, however, is just my opinion. This is your call, and I respect your choice on this, which ever way you decide.

I know this is awful, IWMF, and I hope you’ll get the support you need and deserve. You’re not alone.

Write back and let us know how you’re doing.

All will be well.