Sexual Violence Against Boys and Men — The Taboo, Undocumented, Unresearched Secret World
I’m sitting across from a man in his 40s. By all intents and purposes, he is well-dressed, confident and he smells good. He looks like someone who might give a presentation at work or buy a round of drinks at the pub. Behind the obvious, when he had walked through my therapy door 5 mins earlier, I could tell there was something behind his eyes, I could sense it, but I awaited to see and hear more from him.
It’s our first session. I go through confidentiality, explain pluralistic therapy, and let him know that he can begin wherever he feels comfortable. The room is quiet, the kind of silence that stretches and tests the air between two people. It is as if he is waiting for me to start to intiate, but I hold the silence and space for him to begin. Then, after a pause that feels like forever, he looks at me and says, “I was a prisoner of war.”
His voice is flat, almost rehearsed, but his eyes tell a different story. He explains that during his capture, he was tortured and raped repeatedly. For several days, they used his body as a weapon against him, assaulting him, forcing him to watch as other men were also raped and brutalized. Some of those men never came back. Others were mutilated before his eyes. He describes how they would hang him upside down, bind him, and hurt him in ways that words struggle to hold. He has never spoken about it until this moment.
Since returning home, he has tried to take his own life more than once. The memories come like waves — sudden, unstoppable, and merciless. The shame, the loss of control, the guilt of survival, they’ve all lived inside him, unspoken, for years now.
Sitting across from him, I am aware of the privilege and the burden of this first disclosure. Therapy, for him, is not about insight or coping strategies, not yet. It’s about giving shape to something that was never meant to be spoken, something buried beneath discipline, silence, and fear. In that moment, my role isn’t to fix or analyse. It’s to hold the unbearable, to let his story breathe for the first time without interruption, disbelief, or shame. This man is not an exception. He is part of a silent population of males in Britain, the uncounted, the unheard, and the unseen.
I have heard so many stories like this. Stories that most people would either not believe or would laugh at. One client told me that he once refused to have sex with his girlfriend because he wasn’t in the mood. Over the years, she would mock him, call him pathetic, say he wasn’t a real man — and eventually, she would coerce him. “You don’t have to do anything,” she would say, “just lie there.”
I’ve had multiple clients tell me they’ve woken up to find their partner having sex with them. Others have shared that objects were inserted into their anus without consent, by their girlfriends or wives.
And then comes the question: how do you even report this? Who do you tell about this level of violation and humiliation? How do you walk into a police station and try to explain that your girlfriend or your wife sexually assaulted you? Stories like these don’t make the newspapers. They don’t appear in national statistics. In fact, they rarely get heard at all.
Time and time again, we are told that the vast majority of sexual violence is experienced by women and girls, and while that’s undeniably true in many cases, it’s not the full picture. It doesn’t reflect the hundreds upon hundreds of men I’ve sat with in therapy who have told me their stories, stories of coercion, violation, and shame.
I believe one of the major issues in British society is that we do not take male rape and sexual violence seriously. We are not recording it properly, we are not researching it deeply, and we are certainly not building systems that make it easier for male survivors to come forward.
And if we already recognise how difficult it is for women to report sexual violence — due to shame, disbelief, and stigma, we must also acknowledge that for men, that difficulty can be even greater.
We also need to recognise that male sexual violence manifests differently. For many men, it happens in the context of war or coercion, not necessarily brute physical force. Let’s be honest here now, in most cases, women cannot overpower their male partners physically. But some use other forms of control, manipulation, emotional coercion, humiliation, and threats, to force compliance. These tactics are just as violating, but far less recognised.
And this doesn’t begin in adulthood. I cannot tell you how many boys have told me in therapy that they “lost their virginity” at 12, 13, 14, or 15 — to a woman or girl much older than them. These experiences are not rare; they are disturbingly common.
This isn’t about diminishing what women and girls endure. It’s about expanding the truth to include what boys and men endure too. Because until we can name it, count it, and talk about it, these men will remain where they have always been: silent, invisible, and alone.
The Hidden Epidemic
Sexual violence against men is one of society’s deepest taboos, not because it is rare, but because it does not fit the cultural script of masculinity. The dominant social narrative frames men as protectors, not victims; as perpetrators, not survivors. As a result, male sexual trauma is not just underreported, it is systematically erased. Many people do not realise that under british law, a male cannot be raped.
Research has long confirmed this silence. The World Health Organization (WHO, 2022) acknowledges that while one in three women globally experience sexual or physical violence, at least one in six men will experience sexual abuse in their lifetime (Dube et al., 2005; Weare, 2021). However, these figures are considered vast underestimations. Studies in the UK suggest that only 5% of male survivors report sexual violence to the police (Office for National Statistics, 2023). Many do not even label their experiences as rape, because they have been taught that “men can’t be raped” (Javaid, 2015). And so, we find ourselves facing a silent crisis, an epidemic of unacknowledged suffering.
Why So Few Men Report Sexual Violence
The silent epidemic of sexual violence against boys and men is compounded by a culture, both legal and societal, that often renders them invisible. One of the reasons reporting is so low is that many men simply do not believe that what happened to them counts as rape. From a young age, boys are taught to be strong, to protect themselves, and to “tough it out.” This internalized messaging makes it almost impossible for some men to accept, let alone admit, that they could be victims of sexual violence.
The legal system in the UK reinforces this invisibility. According to the Sexual Offences Act 2003, only a biological man can commit the offence of rape. This means that if a woman coerces a man or boy into penetrative sexual activity, she cannot legally be charged with rape; the act is categorized as sexual assault. While this distinction may seem technical, it has profound consequences: the maximum sentence for rape is life imprisonment, while sexual assault carries a maximum of ten years. Even when the offence of sexual assault by penetration applies, it is separate from rape and treated differently under the law.
This legal framework has a ripple effect on reporting. Many male survivors, particularly those assaulted by women, struggle to frame their experience as a “real” crime. They may question whether they were truly victimized or feel embarrassed that society cannot conceive of a man being raped by a woman. This leads to shame, silence, and the belief that nobody will take their experience seriously.
The Myth of Invulnerability
One of my other clients came to me for “confidence issues.” After several sessions, I told him something didn’t add up. He began to cry, then curled up into a ball, a posture I’ve seen before. It’s what therapists call regression, when the adult self collapses and a younger, wounded part takes over.
Through tears, he told me that when he was 13, he was “dating” an older girl — around 16 or 17. She would get him to do sexual things he didn’t understand. He had blackouts and remembers little. When I gently said, “You were raped,” he replied, “No, I wasn’t. Men can’t get raped.” That single sentence captures decades of conditioning.
Society has raised men to believe that to be penetrated, coerced, or vulnerable is to lose their masculinity. As psychologist Christopher Kilmartin (2000) wrote, the social construction of masculinity “depends on rejecting anything associated with weakness or victimhood.” This makes sexual violation an existential threat to the male identity itself.
For many men, it feels easier to live in confusion than to face what really happened. The emotional dissonance, the sense of arousal mixed with shame, the belief that “I should have wanted it” — creates a psychological double-bind. In therapy, this often manifests as depression, rage, or sexual compulsivity, symptoms with roots in trauma that was never named.
Groomed Into Silence
Another man I worked with had been sexually abused by his uncle from the age of nine until he was thirty-one. When I asked if he knew it was wrong, he said yes, but that he “liked it.” He didn’t want to get his uncle in trouble, or his father sent to prison for revenge. He carried that secret for decades, believing his silence was protection.
Research shows that this dynamic, a mix of loyalty, confusion, and misplaced responsibility, is tragically common. Studies by Lisak (1994) and Holmes & Offen (1996) found that male survivors often minimise their abuse, describing it as “a relationship” or “consensual” even when they were groomed. The emotional complexity of male victimhood, especially when there is physical arousal, leads many to believe that they were complicit rather than coerced (Mezey & King, 1989). But what we call “consent” in such cases is not choice, it’s conditioning.
The Productivity Blueprint
From boyhood, men are given a productivity blueprint, not an emotional one. They are taught to be efficient, successful, and self-reliant — to measure their worth in achievement, not feeling. As bell hooks (2004) observed in The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love, “Patriarchy demands that men kill off the emotional parts of themselves.” The result is that many men grow up fluent in ambition but illiterate in emotion.
They can name who they want to be like, Elon Musk, David Beckham, Jordan Peterson, but they can’t describe who they want to be within themselves. There’s no cultural model for a man who’s both masculine and vulnerable, successful and broken, protective and in pain.
So when sexual violence happens to them, they have no internal framework to process it. They bury it under work, gym sessions, or porn use. They rationalise it away — until, years later, it erupts as anger, depression, or addiction.
The Cultural Taboo
Male sexual victimisation is not just a personal trauma, it’s a cultural blind spot. Media coverage of rape and abuse often centres on female survivors, reinforcing a gendered script of victimhood (Weare, 2021). When male survivors do come forward, their stories are met with disbelief or ridicule.
In a study by Javaid (2018), many male survivors reported that professionals, including police and therapists, dismissed their disclosures or questioned their sexuality. Some were told they were “lucky” to have been “chosen” by an older woman. Others were mocked. This secondary victimisation compounds the original trauma.
Society’s denial serves a psychological function: it protects the fragile image of masculinity. If we admit that men can be raped, then we must also admit that men can be powerless, and that masculinity itself is not invincible.
The Invisible Wound
For every man who speaks up, there are hundreds who never will. They carry their pain quietly, in sleepless nights, failed relationships, or addictions that numb what words cannot.
The tragedy is not only the violence itself, but the silence that follows. As trauma expert Bessel van der Kolk (2014) writes, “The body keeps the score.” Even when the mind refuses to remember, the body does, through anxiety, hypervigilance, or chronic shame.
Raped While a Prisoner of War
For some men, sexual violence comes not in childhood or domestic settings, but in the most extreme conditions imaginable: war. Being raped while a prisoner of war is a trauma layered on top of already unimaginable experiences. It is not only an attack on the body, but an assault on identity, agency, and survival itself.
Ex-soldiers who have been captured often carry dual burdens: the horrors they witnessed or were forced to commit, and the violation inflicted upon them as prisoners. Many have seen friends or comrades killed, civilians harmed, or participated in actions they cannot reconcile with who they are. Into this landscape of fear and moral injury, sexual violence adds another, deeply isolating dimension.
Survivors often struggle with the fact that they were powerless in a situation where they were trained to fight and protect. The humiliation and helplessness of sexual assault in captivity can leave men questioning their masculinity, their courage, and even their right to survive. Many ex-soldiers carry memories of repeated assaults, coercion, or being forced to witness acts of sexual violence against others, memories that remain locked behind silence because society, military culture, and legal systems often fail to recognize male victimhood in these contexts.
The psychological impact is profound. PTSD is almost universal, compounded by shame, guilt, and isolation. Survivors may feel that no one could possibly understand what they endured, and many believe that speaking out could jeopardize their reputation, relationships, or standing among other veterans. Sexual arousal during assault, a biological response beyond their control, can lead to additional self-blame, confusion, and secrecy.
For ex-soldiers, therapy is essential. Trauma-focused approaches allow men to process the horrors of captivity, reconcile moral injuries, and reclaim a sense of agency over their bodies and their lives. Working with a therapist trained in male sexual trauma and military experience can help survivors separate the assault from their identity as soldiers, disentangle shame from biology, and build coping strategies for the lingering psychological effects.
Sexual violence in war is a deeply hidden and stigmatized form of suffering. The silence is deafening, but through therapy, peer support, and societal acknowledgement, male survivors of war-related sexual violence can begin to reclaim their narrative and find a path toward healing.
Intersectionality and Vulnerability
Sexual violence does not occur in a vacuum, and neither does the stigma surrounding it. In Britain, men’s experiences of sexual abuse are often compounded by other aspects of identity — race, sexuality, disability, socio-economic status, immigration status, and military background, creating unique barriers to recognition, support, and justice.
Men of colour, for instance, may face heightened distrust of law enforcement due to historic and ongoing experiences of racial profiling and discrimination. Reporting sexual violence can feel like navigating a double bind: risking shame for being a victim while simultaneously fearing disbelief or bias from authorities. Black and minority ethnic men in particular report experiencing secondary victimisation, where their claims are downplayed, ignored, or interpreted through racial stereotypes.
LGBTQ+ men also encounter layered stigma. Cultural narratives often assume that men who have sex with men “must have wanted it” or that male-male sexual assault is a question of sexuality rather than violence. Homophobic attitudes in wider society, and sometimes even in support services, can leave queer men feeling isolated, unsafe, or reluctant to disclose abuse.
Other vulnerabilities further exacerbate the problem. Men with disabilities, particularly those with cognitive or physical impairments, face higher risks of sexual victimisation and are less likely to be believed. Socio-economic disadvantage can limit access to legal representation, counselling, or safe housing. Immigrant men may fear deportation, language barriers, or cultural misunderstanding if they speak out. Military men, particularly veterans, are at increased risk due to the hierarchical, hyper-masculine environments they navigate; admitting to sexual trauma can feel like a betrayal of the code of strength and resilience expected in service.
The result is a population of male survivors who are doubly, and sometimes triply — invisible. Their experiences are not only uncounted but actively marginalized by the very systems meant to protect them. Understanding sexual violence against men in Britain, therefore, requires an intersectional lens: one that recognises how overlapping vulnerabilities compound trauma, silence survivors, and make recovery even more difficult.
Psychological Impacts Beyond Depression
The psychological consequences of sexual violence against boys and men extend far beyond depression, rage, or sexual compulsivity. Trauma manifests in diverse and often overlapping ways, affecting not only mental health but also relationships, work, and overall quality of life.
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is common among male survivors. Intrusive memories, flashbacks, and hypervigilance can make ordinary situations feel unsafe, leaving men constantly on edge. Anxiety and panic attacks are frequent companions, as is dissociation, a mental escape from unbearable memories that can make survivors feel detached from their own lives.
Some men develop hypersexuality or compulsive sexual behaviours as a coping mechanism, attempting to regain a sense of control over their bodies and desires. Others experience difficulties with intimacy, finding it impossible to trust partners or connect emotionally. Identity confusion is another frequent outcome; survivors often question their sexuality, their sense of self, or even their worth as men, haunted by internalized messages that being violated somehow diminishes their masculinity.
These individual psychological effects ripple into broader life outcomes. Survivors may struggle with maintaining steady employment, fearing environments where boundaries or power dynamics feel unsafe. Relationships with family, friends, and romantic partners are often strained, either because the survivor withdraws or because unresolved trauma manifests as anger, irritability, or emotional volatility. Substance use, alcohol, drugs, or compulsive behaviours, is frequently used to numb the unprocessed pain, creating cycles of self-destruction.
The impact is cumulative. Every unresolved symptom, every avoided conversation, and every unacknowledged memory reinforces isolation. Sexual violence against men is not just a private tragedy; it has lasting social, economic, and emotional consequences that extend far beyond the immediate act of abuse. Recognising these multifaceted effects is essential to dismantling the silence that allows male trauma to go unseen.
Male-to-Male Sexual Violence
While sexual violence perpetrated by women against men is often overlooked, it is crucial to acknowledge that a significant proportion of male survivors are victimized by other men. This occurs across the lifespan, from childhood through adulthood, and in a variety of settings, each carrying unique legal, social, and psychological implications.
In childhood, boys may be abused by peers, older children, teachers, coaches, or institutional figures in schools, sports clubs, or religious organisations. Such abuse is often cloaked in secrecy, reinforced by threats, manipulation, or shame. Many male survivors are taught to “tough it out,” and the fear of being labelled weak or homosexual compounds the silence. The legal system recognises male-to-male sexual assault, but social stigma can discourage reporting or lead to secondary victimisation when disclosures are made.
Adulthood does not always bring safety. Prisons, military environments, and certain workplaces are high-risk settings for male sexual victimisation. Hierarchical and hyper-masculine cultures can normalise coercion and humiliation, making it almost impossible for victims to report abuse without fear of reprisal, ridicule, or ostracisation. In the military, for example, reporting male-to-male sexual assault may feel like betraying the “code of toughness,” leading many to suffer in silence.
Psychologically, male-to-male sexual violence often carries profound consequences. Survivors may struggle with PTSD, depression, anxiety, dissociation, difficulties with trust and intimacy, and confusion around sexual identity. The betrayal of safety by another man can deeply undermine a survivor’s sense of masculinity and self-worth, intensifying shame and self-blame. For some, the trauma can lead to substance use, risky sexual behaviour, or difficulties maintaining employment and relationships.
Male-to-male sexual violence highlights that male victimhood is not limited to extreme or unusual contexts, such as war or female-perpetrated assault. It is pervasive, often hidden, and systematically underreported, further proof that male survivors exist across all walks of life, yet remain largely invisible to society, the media, and even support services.
Towards a New Conversation
To begin healing, we must first dismantle the myths that keep men trapped. Sexual violence against men is not rare. It is not emasculating. It is not their fault. Therapy offers one of the few spaces where men can reclaim their narratives, where they can say, “Something happened to me,” without fear of ridicule. But we need more than therapy. We need social permission for men to grieve, to name, and to integrate what happened.
We need research, education, and language that acknowledges male pain, not as a rival to female suffering, but as part of the same human spectrum. Because behind every well-dressed, polite man who walks into a therapy room, there might be a story the world has refused to hear. And until we start listening, the silence will continue to kill.
Sexual Fantasies, Pornography, and Clues to Healing
For many male survivors, sexual trauma leaves complex and often confusing imprints on desire. Patterns of pornography use, specific sexual fantasies, or engagement in certain kinks can sometimes appear puzzling or shameful, but they can also be valuable clues to unprocessed trauma and avenues for healing.
Trauma can distort sexual expression in several ways. Some men may gravitate toward aggressive or dominant fantasies as a way to reclaim a sense of power lost during abuse. Others may be drawn to submissive or controlled scenarios, reenacting elements of their original trauma in a space that feels safer because it is imagined or consensual. Compulsive pornography use can also emerge as a coping mechanism, a way to numb emotional pain or create distance from feelings that feel unbearable.
While these behaviours can be troubling or stigmatized, they are often adaptive responses, not indicators of pathology. In therapy, these patterns can be explored safely, without shame, as a window into the survivor’s internal world. Understanding why certain fantasies or behaviours arise allows the survivor to reconnect with their body, learn what is truly consensual desire, and disentangle arousal from fear or shame.
Therapy provides the structure and safety necessary for this work. Approaches such as trauma-focused cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing (EMDR), somatic experiencing, or integrative and pluralistic therapies help survivors process traumatic memories, regulate emotional responses, and rebuild trust in themselves and others. Therapists can help men recognise how past violations influence current sexual behaviour, teaching strategies for consent, boundaries, and pleasure that feel authentic and self-directed.
Over time, therapy can transform sexual patterns from sources of confusion or self-blame into tools for self-understanding and empowerment. Pornography or fantasy no longer has to be a mechanism for escape, it can become a lens through which survivors interpret, process, and eventually heal from the trauma they endured.
Male Minds Counselling – Supporting Men Across Reading, Wokingham, Theale, Henley, and Surrounding Areas
At Male Minds Counselling, I specialise in supporting men and boys through complex issues such as sexual trauma, anxiety, depression, relationship challenges, and identity struggles. We understand that male survivors often face unique barriers — shame, societal expectations, or legal and cultural invisibility, and we provide a safe, non-judgmental space for men to explore their experiences.
My practice serves men across Reading, Wokingham, Theale, Henley, and the surrounding towns, offering therapy that is tailored to each individual. Whether you are struggling with the psychological aftermath of childhood or adult sexual abuse, coping with trauma, or navigating difficulties related to sexuality, masculinity, or mental health, we work with you to reclaim your narrative and build resilience.
I use evidence-based approaches such as trauma-informed therapy, pluralistic methods, and integrative counselling techniques to address a wide range of challenges, including:
- Sexual trauma and assault recovery
- Anxiety, depression, and stress management
- Difficulties with intimacy and relationships
- Identity, masculinity, and self-esteem issues
- Coping with shame, guilt, or complex trauma
At Male Minds Counselling, we recognise that men often need a space where they can be heard, validated, and understood. Our goal is to help you process your experiences, rebuild your confidence, and create a meaningful path forward.
If you are a man in Reading, Wokingham, Theale, Henley, or nearby areas seeking support, reach out today, therapy can be the first step toward reclaiming your story and your life.
Cassim