We’ve all heard stories about sexual assault. But what happens when the story involves people you know and love, on both sides? What do you do when someone you trust has violated someone else you care about deeply?
A Reddit post captured this gut-wrenching reality, walking through the emotional minefield of learning that a close friend had sexually assaulted his girlfriend.
Here is the Reddit story by: Pale_Succotash_9388
My girlfriend recently confided in me that my best friend/roommate raped her a party a couple years ago. They were both drunk but she told him she didn’t want it and he still did it. We don’t know if he knows that he raped her, or if he heard her say no. He was pretty drunk (not that this is an excuse whatsoever) and they’ve never talked about it. She doesn’t want to tell him. In general, she wants to try her hardest to pretend it doesn’t exist.
For reference, my girlfriend is pretty shy. She tells me that she feels she didn’t speak enough to stop it. She thinks he wouldn’t have done it if he was sober, or if heard her say no.
This puts me in a horrible position. I have to pretend like I don’t hate my best friend because I live with him, and my gf doesn’t want him to know because they’re still friends, and she treats him like it never happened. For the last TWO YEARS, they have simply carried on as if nothing happened.
As far as solutions go, I have recommended her therapy and have offered to help her get it (my mom is an LPC, and I’ve been to therapy before). And am making sure they don’t get alone together. But until she feels ready to tell my roommate, I am in an awful position.
Please help.
It’s a situation no one prepares for, yet many face. That moment when everything you thought you knew about someone crumbles, and you’re left standing in the rubble of broken trust.
The Earth-Shattering Moment
When you first hear that someone you love has assaulted someone else you care about, it feels like the floor has disappeared beneath you. Your stomach drops. Your brain scrambles to reject what you’re hearing.
There must be some mistake. Not them. Not the person who helped you move apartments, who held your hair back when you were sick, who made you laugh on your worst days.
But then reality sets in. And nothing feels solid anymore.
You replay memories, looking for clues you missed. The jokes that maybe weren’t jokes. The comments about relationships that felt a little off. The way they acted when drunk. Were there signs? Should you have known? Could you have done something?
The guilt creeps in, even though you weren’t the one who caused harm. The confusion keeps you up at night.
Being there without falling apart
When someone trusts you enough to tell you they’ve been assaulted, they’re taking a huge risk. The way you respond matters more than you might realise.
Simply saying “I believe you” can mean everything.
Not “Are you sure?” Not “Maybe there was a misunderstanding.” Not “But they would never do that.” Just: “I believe you. I’m here. What do you need?”
It’s okay that you’re struggling with your feelings, too. Of course you are. But there’s a time and place for processing your emotions, and it’s not while someone is sharing their trauma with you. Find that balance between honesty and support.
Living in the In-Between
It feels like living two lives, trying to maintain some normalcy while carrying this terrible knowledge.
Maybe you still see the perpetrator regularly. In class. At your apartment. In your friend group. And it’s exhausting.
Each time they laugh or talk about weekend plans like nothing happened, your skin crawls. You want to scream, “How dare you act normal when you’ve shattered someone’s world?”
But unless the survivor has asked you to confront them or to publicly support them in reporting, you’re stuck in this awful limbo. Knowing, but not saying. Seeing, but not acting.
It feels impossible. And sometimes, it is.
Setting boundaries that work for you
Creating boundaries is essential when you’re caught in this horrible middle ground:
- Think about when and how you want to interact with the person who caused harm.
- Decide what conversations you can handle and which ones you can’t.
- Figure out which spaces need to stay safe for the survivor.
- Accept that staying neutral isn’t an option, and that’s okay.
You don’t have to make dramatic declarations. Sometimes the quietest boundaries are the most effective.
Small steps away
Most people don’t have dramatic confrontations or public callouts. They just quietly back away. They move out. They stop showing up to group hangouts. They find reasons to be busy. They slowly disentangle their lives.
This isn’t weakness, it’s often exactly what the survivor needs while also saving their sanity. As much as you might want justice or closure, your job is supporting the survivor how THEY need support, not how you think things should go.
If they’re not ready for people to know, or for confrontation, or reporting, that’s their call. Sexual assault takes away someone’s control. The healing process has to give that control back, not take more away.
Supporting without smothering
Finding the right balance takes practice:
- Check in, but don’t hover.
- Offer specific help like “I can drive you to your appointment” instead of vague “let me know if you need anything”.
- Keep some normal friendship stuff going, sometimes people just want to watch a stupid movie and forget for an hour.
- Watch that your concern doesn’t become another burden.
- Remember that healing has good days and terrible days, and both are normal.
Navigating Your Social Circle
When you share friends with both people:
- Don’t create situations where the survivor might run into their attacker.
- Skip the pressure campaign to make friends pick sides, but be clear about your limits.
- Accept that some friendships might end; people have different capacities for hard truths.
- Try creating new hangout spots and traditions that feel safe.
- Social media gets tricky. Have a conversation about how to handle mutual connections online.
Finding support for yourself
Supporting someone through trauma while dealing with your sense of betrayal will drain you dry if you’re not careful.
You might notice you can’t sleep. Or you jump at small noises. Or you’re always on edge. This is secondary trauma, which happens when you absorb someone else’s pain.
Find someone removed from the situation to talk to. A therapist. A crisis counsellor. A support group. Someone who can help you process without burdening the survivor.
Taking care of yourself
Develop some practices that keep you going:
- Check in with yourself regularly about how much energy you have left.
- Find healthy outlets for the anger, confusion, and grief.
- Pace yourself for the long haul rather than burning out in the first month.
- Create small rituals that help you process and let go of some of the weight.
- Find people who can support you without compromising the survivor’s privacy.
When more help is needed
Know when it’s time to bring in professionals:
- Watch for signs that therapy might help (like sleep problems, panic attacks, or depression)
- Research local resources before you need them.
- Understand that medication can help some survivors with PTSD or depression symptoms.
- Learn about trauma-specific therapy approaches.
- Keep both emergency hotlines and long-term support options handy.
Handling disclosure decisions
Help with the tough choices about who to tell:
- Talk through what might happen with different disclosure options.
- Respect their timeline, even when others might think they’re taking too long.
- Offer to practice difficult conversations beforehand.
- Stand by them, whether they decide to report or not.
- Remember that having control over their own story is crucial to healing.
Creating small islands of safety
Look for ways to rebuild what assault destroys, a sense of safety:
- Find spaces and activities that feel comfortable and secure.
- Respect the new sensitivity around physical space and touch.
- Be reliable in small ways, and show up when you say you will.
- Understand that safety needs change over time.
- Remember that feeling emotionally safe is just as important as physical safety.
Building something new
Many people talk about a fundamental shift in how they view friendship, trust, and community afterwards.
You become more awake. You notice things you used to ignore, such as how people talk about consent, about women, and about power. Comments you might have let slide before now stop you cold.
Some people build smaller but healthier friend groups. They get more intentional about who they trust and why. They create clearer boundaries.
Some channel their experience into prevention work or survivor advocacy.
The pain doesn’t vanish. The betrayal leaves scars. But many find ways to use what they’ve learned to protect themselves and others going forward.
Being there for the long haul
Supporting someone through this isn’t a sprint. It’s a marathon:
- Remember that dates matter; the anniversary of the assault might be rough.
- Notice when random things trigger memories.
- Stick around even when progress feels slow.
- Celebrate good days without minimising how hard the journey is.
- Understand that healing happens in a relationship, and your steady presence matters.
Finding a way forward
Eventually, you’ll find a new normal:
- Look for ways to rebuild trust in relationships bit by bit.
- Help reconnect with things that used to bring joy.
- Recognise the incredible strength it takes to keep going after trauma.
- Notice how going through hard things together can deepen friendship.
- Accept that this experience has changed both of you.
If you’re walking this road
If you’re in this impossible situation right now, torn between supporting a survivor and processing your feelings of betrayal, remember:
- It’s okay to feel confused, angry, and heartbroken.
- The survivor’s wishes come first when deciding about reporting or confrontation.
- Creating distance from someone who caused harm isn’t betrayal, it’s having integrity.
- You need support, too.
- How you show up now matters more than you know.
There’s no perfect guide for this. No checklist that makes it simple. But by leading with compassion, for the survivor, for yourself, and others affected, you help rebuild the safety that sexual violence destroys.
In a world where sexual assault touches so many lives, knowing how to respond with both heart and backbone isn’t just kind, it’s necessary.
