My experience reporting the assault to police (Sydney, NSW)

 My experience reporting the assault against me to police was not terrible. The worst part was having to relive the experience.

I had to work with the person who assaulted me every day after it happened. I no longer worked at that place so felt ready to report.

As I walked into what seemed was an empty police station, accompanied by my now husband, I was shaking. I walked up to the desk where a young, uniformed man asked me what I was there for. I said I was there to report the person who raped me two years ago. The officer asked, “why has it taken you so long?”. No one that I had disclosed to at this point had asked me that and I thought that it would be obvious. I nervously responded, “because I didn’t care about myself”. He said to take a seat and walked off.

I was then greeted by a very welcoming detective and taken into a small room just off reception. He was a big guy, but he was soft. Couldn’t fault him; he was lovely to be around and genuinely cared about my experience and what had happened to me. He didn’t victim blame me at all, and I was geared up to respond to these types of questions, none of which I received. Some may think the questions I was asked may be a precursor to victim blaming, but I didn’t feel that way, and being a trained lawyer now and having worked in investigations, I know they weren’t.

I was asked what the nature of my relationship was with the man who attacked me at the time. Purely platonic – he was a co-worker; I never thought of him in a sexual way ever. He was older and not my type at all. I was asked if we ever did anything consensual to which I responded, “absolutely not”.

I was asked when and where it took place. I had the date as I had saved text messages from the man who assaulted me the following day apologising for what he had done, never actually saying what it was that he was apologising for. Unfortunately, I was too scared to say to him “you raped me last night”, so I danced around it in the texts too saying things like “friends don’t do that to friends”. The texts were stored in my old phone which I kept only for the texts; I am so glad I did that. I do remember stumbling across the phone every now and again between the assault and reporting; it made me feel sick.

I was hysterical the whole time recounting the events and answering the detective's questions. It was such a relief being in a police station and having a detective hear and see me. It felt like this massive burden I was carrying was slowly getting lighter; I was lighter. This was my initial interaction with the police; I had many more.

My husband drove me home from the police station and my best friend came over and I just could not stop crying. We had some drinks; she told me she was proud of me.

I was asked to go back into the police station a few times over the following weeks. I had to draw a floor plan of my old apartment where he assaulted me. I had to try and piece together where I had been that night by looking at my old bank statements. I still don’t know my exact movements of that night; all I distinctly remember is how it ended.

I finished my statement. It was frustrating to see how much of the night I just didn’t know about. I didn’t know how long the assault took place for, I didn’t know if he had videoed me or taken pictures, I didn’t know if he had taken anything from my apartment, I didn’t know when or how I had gotten home – there were a lot of unknowns. I was also worried my actions after the assault would have made my story less believable; I still worked with him and was friendly with him. I didn’t hang out with him anymore, but I was friendly. The detective explained to me I was doing everything I could to survive, and this included normalising the situation. I still vividly remember forgiving myself after hearing this – for what, I am still not sure.

The police were finally ready to invite the man who assaulted me into the police station. They told me he was coming in that weekend. I was excited, nervous, sick but mostly just happy it had gotten to this stage. I got an email from the detective saying the man who assaulted me had rescheduled. I was pissed off – how could he have the choice to reschedule? Weren’t they close to arresting him?

The man who assaulted me ended up going in a few weeks later with a barrister. Not a solicitor, a barrister. He admitted to being in my apartment but said nothing else happened. By this stage, the warm detective had been moved to work on something else so I was landed with a different detective – a woman. After the man who assaulted me came into the police station, she called me and said, “I have no doubt, we have no doubt, he did this to you.” It was incredible; his repulsiveness transcended his version of events. I knew it would. That feeling of elation was short lived, she explained to me he brought in a very “mean” barrister and he would be unrelenting if this ever went to court. She reiterated the barrister’s demeanour and how hard it would be on me if this were to go to court. She asked me if I was sure I wanted to proceed, I said “yes, let’s do this”.

I didn’t hear anything from the police for a while. Then I got an email from the detective saying they wouldn’t be charging the man who assaulted me as the prosecutors didn’t want to go forward with it. I was at work when I got the email, and my boss – who didn’t know what was going on, and I still work with to this day – saw how worried I was and told me to go home. On my walk through the CBD, I called victims services. They said I could sue the man who assaulted me for money. That is not what I wanted. I hung up feeling so defeated.

I am still upset he never got charged. But my statement is on the record - if he ever does this again, my statement will be at the ready to back her story.

I did apply to victim services sometime later and they found I had been assaulted and I was given $5,000. This didn’t even cover my psychologist costs.

So now, almost 10 years later, lots of therapy, anti-depressants, self-care, learning about myself, learning about assaults, learning about the patriarchy and feminism, here I am trying to encourage people to come forward. I want you to have an easier experience of reporting. Reporting will never be easy; but I hope to ease the burden just a bit with Fwyni.