This one sentence for me sums up personal character. The character cannot easily be defined or evidenced. It is not demonstrated in qualifications, looks, abilities or disabilities… It is something deeper, something within each of us. We cannot quantify it, yet we can see it at moments in a persons story… It is in us all and our socio economic status our location for living do not in my experience define it. There were moments in my life where my character has been tested to the limits through torture, physical emotional and sexual violence from childhood onwards. Throughout this time I can only describe that inside of me is a love for myself and others, that defines my actions and responses. As i reflect on the darkest moments my character is what has made me resilient and survive. After the serious and sustained sexual violence in adulthood I relied heavily on alcohol to try and block memories and numb the emotional pain. There were many low points, yet one of these occurred within weeks of my escape from the violence…. I was out for an evening with friends and the alcohol flowed. I was talking to a guy. I said my goodbyes to my friends and walked to the taxi rank. There the same guy was stood. We talked and he had not been drinking so I accepted a lift. He lived not far from me so I agreed to a coffee at his place… I remember arriving, it was not far from my home and he put the kettle on and made me a hot drink to help sober me up so I would not be at home very drunk and at risk….I accepted the kindness and it was sensible. I sipped the sweet coffee and it was the last thing I remember. I awoke laid on a bed. I was fully naked and tied to the bedstead arms and legs, there was no one in the room but there was a computer and camera blinking in the corner of the room… The sheet was wet between my legs. My head was spinning slightly, not from alcohol, but a heavy pressure… even in that moment I realsied that there must have be some sort of sedative in the sweet drink. I managed to lift me arm enough to take the rope off of the bedframe, with the free hand I untied my ankles and other arm. I could hear someone moving in the kitchen. My clothes were folded on a chair. I immediately dressed and found my bag and mobile phone under the chair. I kept my shoes in my hand and crept quietly to the hallway. Here I opened the door and ran the two flights of stairs, out the street. Bare feet I ran to the main road and called a cab. As I sat in the cab for a few minutes to my home, I had two choices… blame myself for what had happened ( although to this day I do not remember) Or move forward. This was a very long time ago and at a time when the original attacks were ignored by the UK. So i took the decision to not report formally, but provide the details as much as possible for public safety. This one example of sexual violence ( albeit one I have no recollection of) is a very usual part of life for women in the UK. My character and sense of self has not been destroyed by these attacks, I have made changes to my lifestyle, yet NEVER once have I fallen to the idea that somehow these things are my fault. The reality is I have met men who if I was naked unconcious in a room with them would just make sure I was safe… These incidents that are far too frequent in the UK and the responsibility falls to the perpetrators alone… As a survivor it is really important for me to always focus on these truths…. Be true to myself and my wellbeing.