An anonymous submission from a rape survivor, shared with M.Y.H

When people talk about recovery after sexual violence, they usually focus on therapy, justice, or the long road back to “normal”. What rarely gets spoken about is the messier part - the nights you can’t sleep, the panic that doesn’t end, and the substances that slowly take over as the only thing that seems to make it stop.

This is about that part. The quiet, secret, often-hidden part of trauma that plays out behind closed doors

On 1 October, BBC Panorama aired a devastating investigation into the Metropolitan Police. For seven months, an undercover reporter worked inside Charing Cross police station in central London, capturing on camera what many survivors, campaigners, and community advocates have long suspected: misogyny, racism, and abuse of power are not relics of the past - they remain deeply embedded in parts of Britain’s largest police force.

The footage shows officers laughing about using force against detainees, dismissing rape allegations, and speaking with open contempt about Muslims and immigrants. Some of the language is so degrading that it is difficult to repeat. Officers described migrants as “scum,” joked about sexual assault, and suggested that women making allegations of rape were not to be believed.

For Londoners - and for survivors of sexual violence in particular - the Panorama documentary is another body blow to trust in the police.

I’ve been putting off launching Make Yourself Heard (M.Y.H) for a long time. The idea has been with me for years - scribbled in notebooks, swirling in late-night thoughts, appearing in conversations with friends - but I hesitated. It wasn’t because I doubted the need. Quite the opposite: I knew how vital it was for survivors to have spaces that belong to us, not just about us. What held me back was fear. Fear of stepping into a role I didn’t feel qualified for. Fear of being judged. Fear that people would look at me and wonder: Who is she to start something like this?

That’s the grip of imposter syndrome. It tells you to shrink when you want to stand tall.

These documentaries are hard-hitting and at times very heavy, but they shine an important light on the realities too often left unspoken. They tell the stories of survivors and their families - stories of pain, courage, and resilience - and expose the barriers that still stand in the way of justice.

Please watch with care. You don't need to watch a full documentary in one sitting - take your time, pause when needed, and return when you feel ready.

This submission shook me.

A woman reached out to Make Yourself Heard and described an experience that no one should ever have to endure. She was pregnant when her ex-partner attacked her. During the same violent incident, he beat and strangled his own 18-month-old son. The assault was recorded on her home security system. There is footage. He pleaded guilty.

And yet, today, he is seeking custody of the son, whom he strangled. And of the baby she was still carrying when he attacked her.

The joy I should be feeling, loving my life and cherishing my family, all turns to horror scenarios flashing through my nightmares when a letter from the Witness Care team lands on my hall floor…repeatedly in the three years since my abuser has been in prison, this has been the case.

I didn’t set out to be a victim of domestic abuse; I didn’t intend to be a prisoner and not a partner for ten terror-filled years, but the shackles of control and coercion sneak slowly around your life until, before you know it, you're contemplating death as your only means of escape.

Take the Stand – Reclaiming the Right to Be Heard
In conversation with the creators of the Take the Stand podcast.

We sat down with the creators behind Take the Stand to hear more about where it started, why it matters, and what they’ve learned in the process.

The police complaints process can often feel like a labyrinth, fraught with obstacles, delays, and a pervasive sense of impersonal bureaucracy. For individuals seeking justice, this journey can be emotionally taxing and frustrating.

Charlotte's experience serves as a critical case study, shedding light on the intricacies of this system, revealing the challenges faced by those seeking accountability, and highlighting areas for improvement.

My journey toward hope and empowerment began when fate brought me into contact with an extraordinary journalist. This encounter was somewhat serendipitous, taking place on a September afternoon in 2019, nearly two and a half years after I reported being raped. While cleaning the windows of my flat and tuning into BBC Radio 4's Woman's Hour, I stumbled upon an interview featuring Claire Waxman, the Victim's Commissioner for London.

In the labyrinthine UK justice system, some legal defences are so unusual that they seem almost surreal. “Sexsomnia” -  a rare sleep disorder that allegedly causes people to engage in sexual acts while unconscious - is one of them.

Once confined to obscure medical journals, sexsomnia has entered both criminal and family courts with alarming frequency.

The path to justice for victim-survivors of sexual violence is not only fraught with challenges but often feels like an uphill battle. A report from Victim Support, "Suffering for Justice," highlights just how deeply flawed the criminal justice system is when it comes to handling sexual violence cases.

Sex after rape is one of the most complex and deeply personal journeys a survivor can face. It’s not just about physical intimacy - it’s about reclaiming a sense of control, safety, and self-worth in a body that may feel like it has been taken away. For those in long-term relationships, this journey involves personal healing and shared understanding with a partner. For those dating after experiencing trauma, it adds a new layer of vulnerability and navigation.