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I was first abused by my stepfather in my early 20s, he took the opportunity while my Mom, sister and niece were away in theme park and molested me. I was taken aback, and had no idea what to do or how to process it. I was scared to tell my Mom and anybody else for fear I wouldn't be believed. I eventually admitted it to my Mom, and went to stay with friends, as I didn't want to be around him at all, and did not feel safe. I was afraid it would go further and that he would rape me. I was very clear with my Mom, I told her that I would not return to the house if he was there, she let him back, so I moved to stay with another relative and subsequently moved out altogether, I had very little contact and refused to return home while he was still there. My Mom found me a counsellor to help me talk about what had happened. I went to her for a number of years. I had issues with family members and friends believing me when I disclosed what happened to me, they insinuated that as it was only assault, it was not that serious. I found this very difficult to take, and it probably made me more reticent about talking about what had happened. About period of time later, the divorce referendum was successfully enacted and my Mom and stepfather were going to marry. My counsellor told me that if I didn't attend that day, I would never forgive myself. I attended, but felt uncomfortable and upset all day long. A number of years later I returned home as I needed somewhere to be as I changed jobs etc. I wasn't fully comfortable with this decision, however I thought I would be okay as my Mom was there too along with my stepfather and my sisters. My Mom got sick shortly after that, she was sick for period of time, and passed away in year. After that, I was living in the house with my stepfather alone. Over a period of time, he deliberately isolated me from my sisters and other family members. So much so, that I had very little support available to me. And then the molesting/assaults started up again, I really didn't know what to do or how to react. It got gradually worse, and for a period of period of time or longer, I was being assaulted/raped on a weekly and sometimes more regular basis. Towards the end of this period he was even talking about marrying me, which was very creepy and inappropriate. This was an excruciating and very difficult time, as I had zero support, and nobody to reach out to or help. Due to health reasons, my stepfather had to move and live with relations in another part of the country, and this finally ended this period of physical and emotional abuse. However I had suppressed and blocked it for so long, that I found it difficult to face or come to terms with. Now period of time later, I am finally seeking help to give me healing and help me come to terms with all that has happened to me. I am grateful that I am at last able to admit how bad things were, and also that I can try and rebuild my own life after years of sidelining myself to look after others. I hope my story will help others in similar situations reach out and seek help and support in the future, even though I cannot take legal action against my abuser, I still want to be able to heal and try and come to terms with all I endured.

I was a young waitress who didn't feel protected or safe. "The customer is always right" isn't true for someone who is harassing you, touching you without your consent or being a creep. I wish people stood up for me.

I was conditioned to think catcalling was a compliment, that if someone held your waist a little too long at work it was just cause "ahh they're just a bit touchy", that it's easier to just "go with it" than to say no and risk their response. It took me years to identify that no matter the degree of your experiences it still is never ok. We often get told sexual violence is one way but it isn't, it comes in many forms and sometimes you can't identify it at first - and that's ok. I am only recently coming to terms with the varying degrees of experiences I've had. I didn't want to say anything because I was made to believe I'd "rock the boat". Well some boats are meant to sink. Let's rebuild the boat so everyone can stay afloat, included and safe.

I was in location and I had been seeing another guy in the friend group casually. The guy who ended up assaulting me was in that same friend group. We were at a party and this guy said a few of us should go to his for an afters, encouraging the guy I was seeing to go home instead and I didn’t think anything of it in the moment. When we were at his house and it was just me and him alone, he said he wanted to kiss me and I initially said no as it’d be a bit weird as I was seeing one of his friends. He then told me that the guy I had been casually seeing had a girlfriend, everyone knew and didn’t tell me. I felt terrible. So while I’m crying he starts kissing me and things escalate. He starts choking me hard, hurting me physically, restraining me, twisting my nipples really hard, and covering my mouth. I just froze up. After he was done I went upstairs to my friend and asked to leave at like 5 in the morning. The next day I called the guy I was seeing at the time asking him about the girlfriend and apologising about getting with one of his friends. He told me not to apologise and none of it was my fault and also the guy who assaulted me had lied about this whole girlfriend scenario. I didn’t want to think I was assaulted or coerced, I kept blaming myself. I couldn’t get out of bed to the point that I pissed myself. My family didn’t know what was wrong with me. I was so very fortunate to have friends who were with me to help me come to terms with what happened. My friends who had to tell me that wasn’t okay, that was assault. There was one “friend” who was very much a well it takes two, and it was bad out of me to “get with” him when I was seeing his friend. Then informing me the guy who assaulted me tried to kill himself. And I felt so evil but I wish it had worked. The friend group cut him off once they heard what happened, it was also found out he had assaulted someone else in the group too. I eventually texted the guy who assaulted me telling him what he did was wrong and I didn’t consent to violence, he said sorry that he tends to take his problems out in the bedroom and that I wasn’t the first girl to tell him this. I felt so sick and so guilty for not realising sooner, for not saying anything to him sooner. This was a few years ago, I recently saw the guy who assaulted me on a night out, he looked like he saw a ghost but I froze again and just asked my friends to leave, it’s not fair. It’s just not fair. I feel so much anger and it’s not fair. He is not the only man who has assaulted me but he fills me with the most anger and I don’t know why. I hate feeling this anger, I hate feeling frozen, I hate wishing bad upon a person the way I wish bad upon him. I am not one who runs from confrontation usually but I had to run from him, I had to leave and cry on the phone and gulp water. Then walk past him again in the smoking area wishing I could shout that man is a rapist, but instead I walk past not looking back in case he sees me again, I swallow my anger. I worry that I don’t fit the bill of a “perfect” victim but I know now none of it was my fault, it was all his. I feel hopeless sometimes, but I guess getting to talk about it like this helps, it really helps.

Number years since what happened to me. There has been so much pain and hurt. One of these men was constanty asking me to sleep with his friends but my answer was always no , never, not a chance , You see i found it so hard to accept what had happened because i had to much to drink . I do believe that something was put into my drink as i had no more to drink than what i normally would . I was a at party with these two people. I dont remember leaving the house but i do remember getting sick out of the taxi on the way home. Both of these animals took turns to have sex with me . I remember just lying there with no clothes on and been unable to move unable to fight them of . Both of them went outside and i remember the strong smell of cigarettes and could hear them both laughing . Shortly after both of them left and i lay there confussed , helpless and alone. I must have fallen asleep because i remember it was bright out and one of these men came back to the house. No accountability has been taken from either of these and this is what makes healing so hard for me. Im trying to take back my power but some days are just so hard. Both of these men took adavantage of my vunrability. Learning to tust myself and love myself is my main goal for now and knowing that i did nothing wrong,

Inappropriate touching is how I would refer to what my ex-husband would do. We were together for nearly numberyears. There were countless times that I would wake up with his hands down my pyjamas, him having intercourse with me, him forcing me to do things to him, that this just became normal. I felt that this was part of my marriage. I now know that this should not have been the case and no man should ever treat a woman like this. That consent cannot be taken it must be given. We separated and he was still living in the house. I had a hospital admission. He was helping look after our three children. He would come into my bedroom at nighttime after I came home from hospital and rub my back and belly, even though I had asked him not to. This progressed on two occasions to rape, I had said no, he continued to do it. I did not realize at the time that this is what it was. Even writing this now is difficult. It was only three years later after discussing the inappropriate touching with a therapist that she used that word with me. Deep down I knew how fundamentally wrong this all was but never saw myself as having been sexually assaulted or raped by my husband while we were married or just after we had separated. I still find it extremely difficult to say this word out loud. Most of my friends or family do not know this has happened. It is a very lonely place but speaking to professionals certainly helps with the shame and guilt that I hold myself.

I spoke out against someone who I was so afraid of and still am, he perceived this "power" he had over me and his place in society. I never thought I'd be able to tell anyone never mind report, but I did. I am finding the process of the journey for justice very difficult and sometimes very isolating. On the bad days I have to remind myself, no one is above the law just because their place in society and no one no matter who they are has a right to exploit others. Looking back I sometimes feel like I've been hit in the face with a reality check of the two years of control and mind games used to take advantage of me

I was assaulted by a man, who was an acquaintance, in my apartment. We had hooked up once before, and it had been quick but fine. Things started consensually, but at one point it began to hurt me and I asked him if we could stop. At that point, he pushed down on my upper back, high enough that my mouth was half pushed into the pillow. I froze, and couldn't move at all. I just waited for him to finish whatever it was he wanted to do. The aftermath was extremely confusing. I first thought that it was just a bad experience. But as the months went on, I realised it was playing on my mind too much to be dismissed as that. Six months after the assault, I sought some medical tests. It was a year after, amid a particular run of sexual assault stories in the media, that I contacted rape crisis centre to get help. I also reported to the Gardai several years after my assault, and while they handled it well they also warned that if I was to pursue an investigation that the process could be very exposing and I chose not to take it further. My assault took place only six months after I had come out as queer, and so it felt like much of what I had worked hard to accept about myself and to go through as part of coming out was impacted -- the freedom to be who I was and to enjoy my sexuality was taken away for a long time. My assault was not the first time nor the last time I experienced non-consensual behaviour, although was by far the most serious and impactful occurrence.

It wasn’t until I read this platform that I realised what happened wasn’t trivial. A friend at the time told me to go to the gardai, if not for me, but for anyone else who might have been affected or might later be affected, because you just don’t know. I handed them everything, and they did nothing. If it wasn’t for the help of my friends I don’t think I would still exist. I attempted suicide 6 years after it happened because the concept of getting serious with my boyfriend meant in my head that it would happen again. I suffered flashbacks and he was always so patient. I’m happy to say, now that boyfriend is my fiancée, it does get better. I was in college, I had a serious eating disorder, and this guy was the only one who didn’t try to change me but accepted that I was very sick and didn’t demand that I eat. In hindsight that was a huge red flag. He was happier that I was vulnerable and didn’t want me to get better. After a year together he started to get violent. He refused to let me be by myself. I remember very distinctly the first time he got violent on my birthday, and the only place I could be was in my bathroom because it locked. I sat there all day, knowing he was outside, not knowing what would happen next. When I came out, he was just watching tv as if nothing had happened. He would routinely steal my debit card and buy food for himself, knowing that was my food budget for the week, and none of what he bought I was comfortable with eating. He kept me from recovering for two years. At one point, he took every penny I had, and had no money to go home for the weekend. I had to lie and tell my parents I was staying there to finish essays, I was so ashamed that he could control me like that. I was in denial, believed it was just harsh words and he didn’t know himself or his strength, I was just too weak. I tried to break up with him, but he guilted me into taking him back, saying no one else would ever love me. I took him back. We went to a Christmas party, and he made me feel guilty for him because he ‘missed’ the last bus home, so he asked to stay on my couch. I couldn’t say no. He knew everyone else was out at the Christmas party, so he coerced me into sex, as he had done before, but I saw it as a way to give him what he wanted to avoid him getting violent. Until then the sex got violent too. That night I didn’t consent, I actively said no. I cried quietly and when it got worse I asked him to stop. In response, he strangled me till I couldn’t see properly, and left bruises. When I tried to scream he clawed at my face and scratched my retina, leaving me needing glasses (which I never needed before). I bled everywhere, but he just went to sleep with his arm around my neck so I couldn’t leave. The next day I went into uni, and tried to tell a former friend who studied law, but because she was his friend she joked that he was into BDSM and things like that happen all the time if it just goes wrong. After she told him that I had mentioned it he had me sign a ‘contract’ that said how good he was at sex. I honestly can’t remember how he convinced me to do that, it was all a blur. I don’t remember most of that year, but I know he sent me threatening letters that never stopped until I moved house a year later. After that, as she was the first person I told, I thought no one would ever believe me. But a friend, without me saying anything, let me know that he knew something had gone on. Something was wrong, and finally I told him. He convinced me to tell others, to go to the Gardai, to get therapy, to go to the rape crisis centre and tell them. Another friend let me stay at her house almost all the time as he sent me death threats by text and on social media. They pulled me through university and helped me in any way possible, organised for me to have a separate exam hall from him, and even brought me on nights out to know that I was still able to have fun, and I was still loved even after it all. My one regret is not pursuing it further. He’s an occupation now and I dread the idea of someone that evil near other people and in a position of power over others. I lose sleep over it. I wish I could get back the gardai file and insist that yes it was that bad, yes he is violent. I could stay at my own home for two years. I lost several stone with fear and worry. But I finished my exams, I finished my degree, went on to further study and even found who true friends are.

One day I decided to go to the shopping centre to finish my essay for college. As I was typing away minding my own business, a man came up to me and grabbed my face and tried to kiss me. I was in shock, I didn't know what to do. I froze. In a busy shopping centre no one batted an eye. No one was helping me. Eventually he was pulled off me. But when I told my parents they just laughed at me as if it was nothing. For years I was convinced that it was nothing, that I was just being dramatic but I wasn't. I know now that what happened was a form of sexual assault. I think because sexual assault or rape is usually perceived through the media as one thing and not another. I always thought nothing happened to me but I was attacked in a public place that I felt safe in. Even before this through the years I have been slapped on the ass for no reason, cat called when I am out walking, sexual remarks made towards me, sexual comments passed my way. Again, to me this was minor but I know now as an adult that this is not just minor. I didn't ask for any of these things to happen to me. These things are not OK and I shouldn't nor should anyone else be normalising them just because its not what is precieved to be sexual assault. It is sexual assault and this needs to be said and reminded to people.

You think your age makes you less to blame, But I carry the weight, I bear the shame. You crossed the line — no excuse to hide, No softer words can wash this tide. I’m not the one who should feel small, You built this cage, you made me fall. No matter your years, no matter your face, You took from me my safe, my space. But here I stand, I claim my voice, I break the chains, I make the choice. I won’t be silent, I won’t back down, I wear my courage like a crown. So hear me now, and hear me clear, Your actions caused this pain and fear. Age won’t protect what you have done— I am the survivor, I have won.

I was 18. In college I was part of a ladies team on in college sports team. There were also male teams. There was a inter college tournament that our college was hosting for other male college teams within Ireland. We all had nights out planned and a 'play hard, play hard' attitude. It was great to be part of something - I genuinely loved playing and being part of the club. On one of the nights I was drinking and got to talking with a guy from another college mens team. It was fun and we ended up back at his hotel room, where we had consensual sex. After, I remember feeling groggy and then being suddenly awoken to all these lads barging in. They ripped the bed cover off us and I remember phone flashes going off. It was year so, not exactly amazing phones back them. Slagging of various types ensued but then I remember being held down. At least 2 different men. I remember saying no, please stop. Flashes in and out while I just stared at the corner of the bedside table, thinking how similar it was to the one in my parents room. Weird. I must have slept at some point because I woke up. I got dressed. I remembered nothing. Nothing but the sex with the lad I kissed. Naturally, the next morning is always awkward so I wanted to get out of there. Just as the hotel room door clicked shut I realised I had left my shoes. I knocked back and had to do so loudly as everyone was deep asleep. As I was doing that one of the other team members opened a door across the hall, he stared at me. I said sorry for waking him but I needed my shoes. He just said he was so sorry. I was confused, having no memory of what he was actually talking about, so I said I'm sorry I left my shoes. Eventually someone opened the door and I got my shoes. Leaving the hotel and walking to the nearest bus stop, I felt appropriately hung over but sore. Down there. I'd never been sore before. Guess we must have really gone for it, I thought. Fast forward to lockdown 3 during Covid, I began experiencing severe nightmares that weren't nightmares. The missing memories came back over 2/3 months and I realised that I had been rated multiple times. That my brain had protected me until now. My SA, unknowingly, had a huge impact on my formative years - I came out as bisexual just 2 years ago. I feel I would have had a very different 20's but I met a decent guy, stuck with him like glue and am now married with a child. Due to the memory block, I have no recourse. No sense of justice so I just hope those boys, now grown men, are better than they were.

Wow, first of all. How empowering. I can't even fully talk to therapists or my family support workers because I'm afraid I'll have to make statements. I've been sexually assaulted and raped more times than I can remember. One particularly tough event, my ex, my child's fathers. Well I was passed out. I woke up to him carefully pulling out of my body. I ran to the toilet. Sick with shock. I had a protection order but I had let my guard down and gotten drunk with neighbours the night before. I called my sister. She came to bring me to an emergency chemist. I took the morning after pill. Month came, the Date and I still hadn't got my period. The test was positive. I had to illegally obtain tablets and have an abortion in my sisters house. Very sad and awful time of my life. This platform is a god send.

I wrote this poem today after hearing of guilty verdict in current court case with taxi drive and two separate victims. Title: Me Too Taxi Driver I too have been where you two have been. I too went out with friends. I too had one too many. I too got in the taxi. I too expected safety. I too was raped. Followed in through my front door by a taxi driver who wanted more than the fare that I had paid him. I too reported my assault. I too made my statement. Then our stories diverge. My case went nowhere. My trauma went inwards. My anger turned septic. My shame imploded. My mother does not know. My case went absolutely nowhere. Insufficient evidence and no identifiable suspect minimised my experience. So I thank you for standing strong, for speaking up, for getting some of the justice that I have craved. My taxi driver will never hear the judgement of a jury, and probably never even felt guilt. But he raped me, and in the court of my mind, the jury is unanimous, he is guilty, guilty, guilty.

I never associated my assaults as sexual assaults. I always just saw it as a thing that happened me that was upsetting until recently. I was groped, forced into having sex and preforming oral sex on him. I remember one time he offered to drive me home. I lived over 40 mins from town so I thought i could save myself €60 in a taxi. Until I realised we were going in the opposite direction to my house. He drove me to secluded area. I knew it wasn't right I said no said I was due my period I tried everything I could to deter him. It didn't work. I can't drive that road without a feeling of dread. I do feel part to blame and I know that's wrong. I hate how it makes me feel. When I hear stories in the news I can't help but think my story isn't as bad as theirs or that maybe mine wasn't rape or a sexual assault. I hate myself for thinking it.

Betrayed When someone I trusted so much Took a part of me When I was living my best of life Breaking me beyond repair Forever changing me Altering me physically and mentally The pain I endured through the sleepless nights Linger even years later Indeed it has made me stronger person After years of struggle and perseverance But never would I want someone to walk in this path for strength

Do not ever give up. I have got this far and u can too. The weaker and more vulnerable I feel the more God can shine His light through me and on to other people. I am 56 now but finally starting to really live my life through the power might and gentleness of my God who has saved me. I am His child. I am beautiful in His eyes. He loves me so much and sends me people who really care about me. He can save you too no matter how lost u think u are.

All of my closest friends have been sexually assaulted in some kind of way, including myself. It breaks my heart, all I want to do is hug them and tell them it’s gonna be okay and it won’t happen again but I can’t guarantee that and it’s so scary.

I’ve attempted to write this so many times, zoning in and out staring at the blank screen. Disassociating as my mind and thoughts spin at 1000 miles per hour, yet not one has landed in a constructive sentence. My entire outlook on myself, the world and life as I knew it changed in a way I never imagined possible. I lost myself. I lost my confidence, I genuinely didn’t recognize the person in the mirror looking back at me. I was a social butterfly who had turned to isolation and drugs for comfort. Being on social media the last couple of weeks has been tough and triggering. But I know I’m not alone. I was raped by a bouncer of popular City bars, a number years ago, in my own home, with everyone partying in the room down the hall. He was a friend. Someone I thought I could trust. I’m a lesbian and I now blame myself for letting myself get too comfortable around guys. Just because I was gay, I thought it gave me a safer card to be close and alone with men. I had a few friends back to my house after a night out, we were on a bit of a love buzz. Mixture of drunk and high. I was going to the bathroom. In my own home. A lot of it is blocked out still til this day, yet some of it feels like it just happened yesterday. He came in while I was using the toilet and I didn’t mind because he was my friend and I was gay, and not coherent enough to worry. We were talking, laughing, he was complimenting me as I pulled up my trousers. He pulled me in and kissed me, at first I kissed him back until I realized what was happening and pulled back. He then got very strong and restrictive of my movements and I started to panic. I told him stop. I told him no. I told him I’m gay and we’re too fucked up. He persisted to kiss me where he could, he ripped my trousers open. I had only done the button, I hadn’t a chance to zip it so they ripped open without much effort. I tried to pull away, I tried to stop. I even tried to scream but literally nothing was coming out of my mouth. I was moving so much that he (5 times my size and weight) pulled and pinned me to the ground and tore my trousers to my ankles as he couldn’t get them off over my boots. When he couldn’t get it in far enough in the front he dragged and twisted me around, forced my face into the radiator and raped me from behind. I can still HEAR him breathing in my face and my ear from in front and behind. I can feel his weight suffocating me. I had bruises for months afterwards. I finally managed to coerce him off and squirm out with the excuse to get a condom to make it easier. I ran for my life through the house. Kicking off my shoes, pants and underwear to get it off my skin. I went into the front room and collapsed crying. Got sweatpants and into the next room to the party goers. The moment they saw me they knew before I could even get out the sentence. They ran to the bathroom and he was wanking himself off. I lost a lot of myself that night. More than I can remember. More than I’m willing to. For a long time people accused me of lying because he’s “such a nice guy” “he’s a bouncer he wouldn’t do that” “he’s the nicest person iv ever met” “how much did you have to drink” “what were you wearing” “did you lead him on” “he apologized to me for sleeping with you” “he said you took your pants off” NO. MEANS. NO. NO MATTER HOW DRUNK. NO MEANS NO NO MATTER HOW HIGH. NO MEANS NO. NO MATTER IF YOU KISSED THEM BACK. NO MEANS NO. NO MATTER YOUR SEXUALITY. NO MEANS NO. NO MATTER HOW NICE HE IS PERCEIVED TO BE. NO MEANS NO. NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU PUSH THEM AWAY. NO MEANS NO. A piece of my inner heart, died that day. And I wish I could say it was the last time a male friend refused to take no for an answer. I suffer with C PTSD. I had to leave hospitality after almost 12 years. I don’t go out any more. I became too dependent on drugs and alcohol to numb out the noises, numb out the flash backs, numb out the feeling my body will never recover from. I’ve been trying for continuous sobriety but I haven’t got the hang of it yet. Although I’ve had more days sober than drunk/high but I’m tired of running. I’m tired of numbing. I have breakdowns in Tesco now. Yet I still see him around every now and again. He still has a job. He still has a life. He still has access to so many drunk women. Thank you to the staff at City hospital and City who took such good care of me under the circumstances both times. I will be back for part 2 but for now I’m pretty drained out. I don’t think I’ve ever sat down and typed about this this much before and I need to do more grounding exercises. You are not alone. We are not alone. We are stronger together. A pencil can break easily alone, but it’s much harder to break in a bunch. I don’t have the will power or strength to read this back before posting but thank you so much for creating a space where we can come together and feel safe despite having such heavy trauma’s on our backs. Name

I was a prudish teenager in the '80s, an introvert who wanted friend but only on my terms (they had to respect my boundaries, and I had many). It was only in my twenties, while I was working with more liberal people, that I made a conscious decision to cast off my old, narrow way of relating to people because my barriers had become walls. So I opened up more, made myself vulnerable...and attracted perverts. Older men, bosses, colleagues and contacts (I worked in industry). I still had enough boundaries to prevent actual rape, but I would not push them away as forcefully; I would make light of it when a man put his hands on my hips or made some inappropriate comment. This went on for years. I had a a few boyfriends in my twenties including one I stayed with for three years and loved (I still love him but don't want a relationship with him and have to keep enforcing psychological boundaries - he was never a sex pest but he wants to be friends and gets upset when I don't want to meet him). Being an introvert, and possibly Aspie (I have yet to find the courage to look for a diagnosis) I have always felt like an outsider, and in relationships always felt as if I was playing at being "sexy". In my forties, the men who breached my sexual boundaries (with inappropriate comments and the occasional arm around me as I sat beside them on a work assignment) were men my own age and slightly younger; I was still attracting men in the same age group: 40s. They would obviously want to take things further, but I would always put up that barrier...and I noticed that after I rebuffed a man I'd lose a work opportunity. I was frozen out of the cliques in my profession (I don't have family in my industry and I did not go to university so I didn't have the underpinning network to fall back on). I dealt with this by developing a tough, jokey exterior; desperate to prove that I was "not a prude", I merged my career with a rather tarty image (I cannot go into details here without possibly revealing who I am or, worse, narrowing it down - which would not be fair to others who might not want their stories told). At first, it actually helped my career and social life; suddenly I was great craic, a youthful looking middle-aged woman who was happy in her own skin, free-spirited - and "great craic". The men who used to flirt with me would also mock-boast "I'm a prude"; they had respectable wives / partners (indeed many of these women were my colleagues). Eventually, it was time for this middle-aged disgrace to be managed out of the industry. It didn't happen all at once; my mentors and good contacts retired or died (these were the people who never abused me). There were various reasons: cutbacks, personality differences, my political views were at odds with my bosses' views, and there were new people looking to fill my role. I adapted by finding a mosaic career, doing a few courses and muddling through. Now I see my former colleagues (the flirts and their partners) getting on with their careers; I am on the outside, looking in. But I was always on the outside. And I have no doubt that my story is very common (a bit like me, some would say!).