*The following account is written by Lauren Evans who shares her story of being a victim of intimate image abuse in 2015 and her powerful journey over the past 10 years.
Ultimately, the hardest part of it all was the letting go – I had to let go of my images and any control over them. They were on the internet for three years before I found out that I was a victim of image-based sexual abuse, or as many call it; “revenge porn”, and three years is a long time for the internet. Goodness knows how many people may have downloaded them from the many darker corners of the web that I had managed to find them on, let alone places I hadn’t and still haven’t uncovered.
My abuser sought out attention with the images of me, asking others in chatrooms and forums to describe what they would do to me, sometimes offering them fictional, incestual stories about how I was his teenage sister, encouraging viewers to write about how they would assault me. Over those three years, others collected my images and used them to create fake profiles – which is how I found out about my abuse in the first place.
I found out about my abuse in August 2015, just four months after Section 33 of the Criminal Justice and Courts Act 2015 came into force, creating the offence of disclosing private sexual images without consent. That was ten years ago.
Within the first week I wanted to die, I thought my life was over, and those thoughts continued for many years after that. I still recall the first police interview in my home after I finished work, my case officer and her colleague coming in to listen to what I had found that day and whom I thought was the culprit. It was hard to say aloud to strangers, but I assumed it would be a supportive process, especially considering the gender of my case officer.
However, after I spilled my guts about the horrible things I had seen and read on my work computer (yes, I found out at work), my case officer turned to me and said; “Well, at least you’ve learnt your lesson now then.” After they left, suicidal ideations flooded my mind, I thought that if the police blamed me then what would other people think? I was humiliated and felt completely exposed. Branded, even. Like my abuser had marked my body forever and the whole world would know about it. And worse still, blame me for it.
The legal process continued to be arduous and painful; I had to collect screenshots of my images, which included forums, chatrooms, fake social media accounts. I had to gather the evidence and email it to the police. I had to go into the police station and specify how old I was in each photo, as many of them were from my teenage years. My abuser had been grooming me from the age of 13 (he was 21), and I had only just realized this at the age of 23, when all my images had been spread across the internet. Whilst labelling my images with my ages, the police pointed out that I had committed a crime by sharing my own underage images with them.
My case officer continued to be unhelpful and somewhat ignorant to this type of crime, saying that because my abuser wasn’t and had not been my boyfriend, that she wasn’t going to charge him with ‘revenge porn’, because she saw it as a crime in which there must be an act of ‘revenge’ to instigate the criminal activity in the first place. Instead, she charged him with sharing and obtaining underage images, and when he was arrested, she called and offered me a formal apology letter from him. I declined. He was taken to court in December 2016, pled guilty. The outcome was this; his computers and laptops were taken away, he was put onto the sexual offenders register, fined for legal fees, and given six weeks of counselling. (I received no counselling).
During this ordeal I had quit my job and moved away to Scotland with my new partner. I was mostly home bound, it was difficult for me to leave the house for long periods of time, and the thought of getting a new job seemed impossible. I was incredibly worried that the abuse would somehow become known to any potential new employers or even new friends, so I kept myself inside for the majority of the time.
I did however write about my experience through blogging, which led to a period of activism; speaking about the seriousness of this heinous crime, the effects it can have on victims, and the way that the media describes it being more harmful than helpful. I appeared on the Victoria Derbyshire show, BBC Radio One, BBC Scotland. I was invited to speak at conferences, even at the Houses of Parliament in London. I received many emails through my blog and through other articles from many victims across the world, asking for help but mostly asking for some kind of reassurance that their lives were not over because of what somebody else had decided to do to them.
Since August 2015 I have spent years at home (not including the COVID19 lockdowns), hiding and recuperating, coming to terms with what happened and finally believing that it was not my fault, that I was groomed and emotionally manipulated for many years. I’ve been through many other hardships as well, however, I’ve also been able to create a life for myself, and I celebrate that especially now, ten years on. I live in a lovely neighbourhood, I have a wonderful daughter, I am about to start my final year at university. I work part-time, I have a fantastic network of friends, and I remain close to my family.
Ten years ago, the majority of those things seemed impossible. I thought my life was going to be tainted forever because of somebody else’s actions towards me. But I’m here, celebrating this occasion and feeling immensely proud of myself for surviving. I owe it to my 23 year old self, and my 13 year old self.
