Comment: this really disturbed me, I really feel for the sister and detest the predatory nature of far too many men...A hadith tells us if an unrelated man and woman are alone then the third person present is the devil...however I think men themselves are often the devil.
Below is an account of a traumatic event that occurred to friend. Let's put an end to violence against women by speaking up without shame! I want to thank my friend for her beautiful courage for coming forward. Peace.
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by Anonymous.
My freshman year was by far a challenging one: I was date raped by a very close friend of mine.
In September, I met Yusuf in class. He was a great friend and we would hang out and laugh a lot. He had had a great soul and cared about the world. We had our philosophical conversations about life, religion, politics, and the world for hours at a time. One day in April, Yusuf asked if I would have lunch with him. Our date was casual; afterwards he asked if I wanted to go to his place. I didn’t think too much of it, I had been to his apartment before and it had been completely innocent. He lived alone. I should have seen the signs. In retrospect it’s all so clear. But I was blinded by my trust in him.
Instead of protecting myself, I walked into the lion’s den. Vulnerable. He got onto his bed, and I distanced myself sitting at his chair. Our friendship was strictly platonic so I didn’t think too much of it. After a while, he asked me to join him on the bed. Because I trusted him, I got on his bed, and we talked for a long time. And then he was kissing me. I told him I was not comfortable kissing him. “Relax Fatima, we’re just having fun,” he repeated, on and on. Kissing him was already pushing my boundaries; I wasn’t okay with it. Then he started groping me, and touching me, and I was so uncomfortable.
Before I knew what was happening, both our pants were off.
I tried to talk him out of it, told him I wasn’t comfortable, told him I wasn’t ready for sex with him and all the consequences it would bring. He told me that it wasn’t a big deal, that it was just fun, but I kept repeating, “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. No. No. No. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t”. But instead of hearing my pleading, he pressed himself into me. I whispered, “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” Then I just shut down, completely blocked out the world. My response to this traumatic, terrible thing was to turn myself off instead of fighting or fleeing.
I stared at the flag of Saudi Arabia the entire duration of it, at the shahada, the foundation of Islam, There is no God but God and Muhammad (saw) is the last Prophet.
Afterwards, he asked if I was okay, and I said, “Yusuf, did I ever say yes to you?” His response I will never forget. “No, but you silently consented”. I wasn’t okay with that answer. I looked at him and shrugged. He said, “Do you really think I raped you? How could you ever think I would do that to you?” I didn’t have words. I was confused. Was I just imaging it? Making a big deal of a casual college sexual experience?
Nothing made any sense after that. I went home and lay in bed feeling dirty and confused. I felt so alone. I kept the TV on – blaring -the silence was too loud. I took close to 40 showers in two days. I just never felt clean enough. I began telling close friends, a few didn’t believe me because they knew him, and didn’t think he was capable of such an atrocious act. I felt like my life had fallen apart, almost as if someone had unraveled the thread of my sanity. The rest of the semester went by in a haze. I’m not sure how I woke up each day, how I got ready, how I went about the most basic things.
That summer went by and each day I couldn’t force myself out of bed. I would sleep all day, and genuinely considered suicide. But I realized that I had too much to live for. This couldn’t be the darkest point of my life, and if it was, there was only one place to go from there: up. In the fall, I surrounded myself with amazing people at my new job. One of my advisors changed my life. She gave me the reigns to my life back; she helped me realize that it wasn’t my fault, and that I would be okay again. My biggest hurt was that it was a betrayal from such a good friend. He was kind, and genuine. He helped orphans, graduated Cum Laude. He wanted to change the world. He wanted to make a difference.
It’s been a year and a half and I still see him from time to time, and I feel like everything I’ve worked so hard to be, comes tumbling down around me again when I do. I had to start over from scratch because of this. I had to rebuild my life and my foundations. I lost my sanity, stability, and I had to fight to regain it. I never took legal action and I don’t regret that decision, but I know that karma overcomes all. I’ve thought time and time again what I would say to him if I was given an honest chance, but in some ways, it’s okay that it happened. If it had to happen, I’m grateful that it did the way it did. I love the person I am now, I have so much strength of character, I’m passionate and I’m courageous. Everything I’m not made me everything I am.
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