For too many rape victims like me, justice has never been served 

Back in 2008, newly divorced in my mid-thirties, I went on a date. We met at a restaurant, there was alcohol consumed. Whether I was just plain too drunk, or he drugged me, I’ll never know, but I do know that I don’t remember anything from the break between starter and main course when I told him I wasn’t into him but was having a nice time, and the point at which I woke in my bed to find him raping me.

The timeline of what followed that night remains a blur, drifting in and out of consciousness.  Some parts of it are very colourful, some parts just faded, some parts blackness.

I reported what happened about a month later, out of a feeling of obligation - I’d seen he still had his dating profile up on other sites, and could not allow other women to be put at risk. I felt that the police believed me when I had given my statement, hoped that justice would be done, and that when that had happened,...