Ian Connor Is a Rapist, and I Know Firsthand

It’s been a while since I’ve written on here. And I’ve wanted to for a while because I always have a lot of thoughts and I’m always being inspired by the people I surround myself with, but I just haven’t gotten to it because I’ve been busy with school, stressed with life and my relationships, family tings, etc. But today I decided to write something because I want the world to know the truth. On my first post, 4 months after my sexual assault, I wrote about how the assault affected me and how the backlash I got from telling someone I loved the truth about what happened affected me. All of this was well before I decided to involve the police in my assault. But I am finally ready to say that I did. I pursued charges against Ian Connor for raping me. Yes, that’s right folks, Ian Connor–the fashion nigga people love to stan for–is a rapist. My detective never said I couldn’t talk about my case, but I decided not to because I wanted to get everything taken care of before I spoke about it publicly.

I am speaking now because my case is basically closed. And I am finally ready to share my entire story. I want the world to know who they are praising. I know that I will get some backlash for this, the typical rape apologists and misogynists will likely attack as they will be up in ashy arms that their idol is being accused of such a heinous crime. But I don’t care. I know the truth. And I know that I did not want to have sex with Ian Connor. He raped me.

On October 5th 2014, I was raped by Ian Connor. Everyone always wants a name and a face and oh who did he rape and blah blah, well here I am. *One* of the many that he raped was me. Oh yeah that’s right, he’s a serial rapist. I am not the only one. I’m just one of the only one’s who is telling my story. In short, he is a predator. He seeks out girls on social media that he can try to “woo” or whatever and then try to fuck and if they say no, well he takes it. One day in spring January of 2014, I tweeted “who is Ian Connor?” because I kept seeing his name everywhere but I literally had no clue who the kid was. Now we all know he searches his name, like any egomaniac would, so naturally he replied. A few months later he followed me and I followed back, still not knowing much about him. The fact that he followed me after a few months should’ve let me know he was weird because apparently he had been watching me for all that time I assume. I don’t know. But to continue, after I followed him back, he dm’d me. We talked for a little he asked for my number and I was like yeah sure whatever. I was just curious because his name was everywhere so I was like okay let’s see what this nigga is about. Before I go any further, I just want to clarify that when I say this was out of pure curiosity, I actually mean that. I don’t care about “clout” never have never will. If I wanted his “money” or whatever I would say that because regardless of my intentions, raping someone is never acceptable. But I do want my story to be told and interpreted correctly. Moreover, Ian tried to post me on his Instagram the second time we hung out because he liked my necklace (the Arabic name necklace that I wear everyday) but I was like “nah” because I just didn’t want that. Not that it matters. But I know how some of y’all think.

We hung out a total of 3 times. Never did anything sexual with this man because I didn’t find him attractive, I was very much into somebody else, and I just wanted to be friends. He kissed me before but I always pushed him off because gross. He would stop after that and we would kick it, it would be fine and I wouldn’t feel violated. I thought he was somewhat cool, so when I wasn’t dodging him, if he hit me up because he was in Atlanta and I wasn’t busy I would be like okay cool we can hang out.

The 3rd and last time we hung out I hit him up. He came to my crib in the morning and I figured we would just talk and chill per usual… But that isn’t what happened. We were sitting on my bed, just talking. and he asked if he could eat me out. I declined. And I told him I wasn’t trying to have sex. So he’s like okay. Then he asked again if he could eat me out. I said no again and he just kept asking. He was literally begging to eat me out and he said “we don’t gotta fuck, I just wanna eat it. I wanna eat your soul out girl” blah blah. And I was just like “nah I’m good” but he kept begging. Eventually, I gave in. I said “fine you can give me head”. Then he said “lemme eat it from the back”. So I laid on my stomach and pulled my pants down about halfway, the rest of my clothes were still on. He was fully clothed. He started to give me head. About 2 minutes later I felt his bare penis thrust inside of me *and he began to have sex with me*. I was shocked and didn’t know what to do and then I pushed him off of me and I was like wtf. And he says “your pussy is wavy. We should’ve did this a long time ago. We could’ve been dating” and I said “wtf I told you I didn’t want to have sex and you just did it…” And he says “so you tryna say I raped you” and at the time I hadn’t even processed what had just happened and I was like “I don’t know”. After that he left and said he was gonna text me. I was confused. I didn’t want to call it rape but I also couldn’t call it consensual sex because I had already told him I didn’t want to have sex with him and he took advantage of me being in a position in which he could penetrate me anyway when I wasn’t looking. It was diabolical. But at the time, I didn’t know how to think of it.

I went to get tested the next day because nothing felt right about what happened. I was confused and in denial. On October 9th, I got my test results back and I found out he had given me gonorrhea. Curable. But still. I was devastated and that’s when it all finally hit me. I didn’t want any of what had happened but he just did it anyway and I had to deal with the consequences. He didn’t penetrate me with consent. He raped me. Once I accepted it, I told the man I was “talking to” at the time what had happened. We were pretty serious so I thought I could trust him and I was also going through a lot and I just needed support. But instead of being there for me, he blamed me for it and told me it “wasn’t a real rape” because I didn’t get snatched up off the street and I knew the person. Needless to say, the way he treated me and the things he said to me which are still very triggering to think about only made matters worse. I was depressed and I wanted to hurt myself but I didn’t because I had people watching me, friends coming to Atlanta to be with me, I left school to be with my mom, it was a lot going on actually. And for the most part, I kept it to myself except for telling close friends, my mom, and my therapist. After a little over a year, I finally tweeted about him being a rapist (not about him raping me specifically but I called him a rapist) because I’ve gotten more comfortable talking about it as time has passed and because I want everyone to know the truth. That same day he messaged me on a fake account… Trying to harass me. Here are the messages:

If you go to that page and look at the likes its all things praising Ian. I wasn’t for sure it was him but I had a feeling it was. My intuition is always on fleek. And I was right.

His harassing messages prompted me to file a police report. I thought to myself “fuck him”, I wasn’t about to allow him to take anything else from me or hurt me anymore! I have so many things happening in my life and so much going for myself right now and nobody is getting in the way of that. I’m about to graduate from Emory University in exactly one month and I did it in four years. I have life plans and I am ready to spread my wings and fly. But before that, I felt like I needed to, at least, try to make him be held accountable for his actions so that I could have peace. So in December 2015, I filed the report. Since then I’ve given statements, sent in evidence, and gotten other women that he assaulted to speak to my detective. The detectives at the Special Victims Unit at my country police station have been working to gather as much evidence as possible and build a case. The problem is, when it comes to bringing everything to the judge, there isn’t a lot of concrete evidence that actually proves the rape happened. Essentially, the only thing they can really go on is my word. Moreover, the other women who spoke to the detective are not comfortable filing their own reports. They gave statements and I am thankful for that as it did contribute to the building of my case, but the statements can not be taken as concrete evidence unless they were to file their own reports in the cities in which their assaults occurred. Although if they did, it would make the case and a warrant for his arrest would likely be put out once everything was presented to the judge, it’s understandable why they wouldn’t want to. Further, my detective also got in contact with Ian. He called him. I had two of his numbers that were still saved in the cloud in my phone despite me deleting them and still having his numbers blocked to this day. So I gave the detective both of them. One didn’t work and one did. My detective said Ian sounded0 very worried. And since he’s guilty, he should be worried. Because people are onto him now. And in other guilty news, since then he disconnected the number–my detective informed me of that because he tried to call Ian again to get him to come in for questioning. When they first asked him to come in for questioning he said he “didn’t know when he would be back in Atlanta”, then he disconnected the number. And since there’s no warrant because I do not have enough concrete evidence on my own to present before the judge, they can’t make him. Unfortunately, my statement, a few screenshots, and some information from my doctor and from my school, won’t be regarded as substantial evidence in a court of law. Because of this, my detective told me yesterday that the case is likely to be closed for the time being. It can be reopened if more evidence is found or if any other women decide to come forward, but for right now, there isn’t much else that can be done.  So basically these past few months have somewhat been a waste of my time bc even though I was raped, nothing will likely happen to the person who raped me aka Ian Connor. #America

Although this is not the ideal result of my choice to file a report against him, I do not regret my choice. The system isn’t built for me and that’s something I wholeheartedly understand about America; however, I also believe that you never know what the outcome of anything will be unless you try. By not trying, I would be giving him power and that is something I refuse to do. And by trying, I empowered myself and others. I did what I could to try to bring justice and hopefully protect other people and for that I will never regret my decision. No longer will Ian Connor’s crimes remain invisible. I am here. I am visible. And I am healing.

I expect to receive some backlash for writing this, for exposing Ian, for the way it happened. I expect some people to blame me for it, and to continue to not hold a grown man accountable for his actions. But at the end of the day, nobody’s ignorance can stop me from standing in my truth.

Thank you all for reading this. And thank you to everyone that has supported me and contributed to my healing.





Misogyny is real

For a while now, a lot of people have been telling me I should start a blog because they want to hear my thoughts and because I am a writer. So today I’ve decided to start one. This is my first real blog post ever, and I’ve been inspired to write something because I have a lot of thoughts and feelings revolving around recent events in my life that I am finally ready to openly talk about. So here goes…

Over the past few months, I’ve dealt with a lot, experienced a lot, and learned things that will forever make me a different woman that I was before. In life, we must all go through changes and experience pain in order to grow. I know this first hand because I have experienced so much of it in life–from feeling the pain of parental neglect from my father, dealing with health issues and having to live with a disability and the ignorance spewed by others because of it, ups and downs with friends, heartbreak, and of course the consequences of being a Black woman in America and being forced to witness the constant injustices inflicted upon my people. All of these things have made me strong individually and conscious of the world I live in; however, it did not necessarily prepare me for the trials to come.

Last semester, On October 5th, 2014, I was raped. At this moment in time, I can say that what happened to me and the months following felt like the worst time of my life. I felt worthless. I felt like there was nothing left to live for. I felt like nothing mattered and the only thing I wanted to do was die. I felt guilty, like it was somehow my fault. I felt embarrassed and ashamed to even talk about it. During the time when it all happened, I was involved with someone–lets just call him ASSface for privacy sake. This man was very special to me. After dealing with so much bullshit, I thought I had finally found someone who treated me the way I felt like I deserved to be treated, but that quickly changed after my assault.

ASSface blamed me for what happened. He said it was my fault because I let the rapist into my house. He said because I consented to one thing with him that means I would’ve “fucked him anyway.” He said that it wasn’t a big deal or even a real rape because I knew the person and wasn’t snatched off the street by a stranger. He said that if he would’ve never started fucking with me he wouldn’t have had to deal with any of the bullshit because the girls who he fucked with before me were “virgins.” According to him, because I wasn’t a virgin when we met, I was less than these other girls. Even though he wasn’t a virgin either, I was the problem. According to him, our mutual choice to not have protected sex each time reflected poorly on me but not on him. He said that after what happened, he felt differently about me. It was clear that because of what happened I became “dirty” and a “whore” in his eyes even though he didn’t say those exact words. Essentially, because I was raped, my value had vanished. Because a worthless scumbag stole something from me, I was no longer worthy of his time or feelings. Everything changed.

Misogyny was literally staring me in my eyes telling me that because I am a woman and a common form of violence inflicted against women occurred against me, I was somehow in the wrong. The idea that another human being has the power to dictate how valuable a woman is as a person because of “purity” and sexual relations is a ubiquitous idea. This type of sexist thinking occurs throughout the world–here and in many other places. And ASSface is not American. He is African. And there is a lot of patriarchy and misogyny in different parts of Africa. And I get that. I get that different values are instilled in us depending on how we are raised. But this does not excuse his ignorance because it is always possible to break free from the ignorance and hatefulness that one has been programmed to believe. If it weren’t, there would be no such thing as social justice movements.

When all of this first happened, I was devastated. I couldn’t understand. I was traumatized that he could say such things to me. I truly couldn’t comprehend. I was in a state of deep depression following this. I left school for a few weeks. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. Anxiety attacks were rampant. How could somebody treat me this way I thought? How could somebody who I cared for so much make me feel so low? The person I had been spending all of my time with for months? The person who was at my house damn near every day, staring into my eyes telling me that I was a masterpiece, that I was perfect while washing my hair and cooking for me? This person! It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I literally couldn’t believe it. After I told him what happened, this man left me in shambles to deal with being violated by myself. He wasn’t there. He straight dipped. And for the longest time I tried to figure out where I went wrong. Should I have not told him what happened? Should I have kept it to myself? Maybe I shouldn’t have been such a slut and chilled with that other nigga anyway I thought. His misogynistic views were beginning to have an affect on my self worth because I was in such a dark place that I wasn’t able to easily crawl out of like usual. It was like I wasn’t even myself. I thought I was broken and I needed help getting back. And eventually I did.

While dealing with all of this, I was also dealing with the sting of Black lives being taken every day in this country. And with everything going, sitting back and doing nothing didn’t seem like an option to me. So I banded with a few other beautiful Black women that I attend school with and together we led protests and began to work with administration at Emory in order to try to make some changes within the Emory community at the least. Because I was so focused on this, I was forced to consider injustices occurring everywhere, including against myself. And then it hit me–none of what happened was my fault. And i decided that I would no longer let some scummy rapist motherfucker and his ignorant, misogynist, little dick, fob counterpart have any more authority over how I felt about myself, or how I lived my life. I decided I was too strong, too beautiful, too real, and just too amazing in general to allow for such disgusting words and ideas to control my life. I was not broken and nobody can ever break me.

As conscious as I am, I’ve always known that misogyny existed. I’ve known for a long time that rape culture was rampant. And I’ve recognized that many men hold themselves to different standards than they hold women to. This in itself is wrong, and it needs to be understood that when you lay with somebody you become their equal. If I’m a “hoe”, and you choose to sleep with me, you are a hoe too. You cannot be better than anybody you consciously choose to share yourself with. But many men don’t understand this. And they feel that women who have sexual autonomy are less valuable. I find this ideology quite funny because you’re essentially saying that after the woman has been touched by you or your homeboys, her value decreases. So, you tainted her? The logic is disgusting because it is not applied in a vice versa manner. Sexual activity does not define human value, and if you think it does you’re sick. But I digress. Before this happened, I had never felt like i truly experienced sexism first hand, nor did I have a full understanding of how fucked up gender inequality could be to an individual. These ideas are so hurtful and detrimental to the well-being of women everywhere and society in general and it saddens me that so many men have trouble understanding why. Even if you are not a rapist or a woman beater yourself, by subscribing to a sexist mindset and having sexist ideas about women, you are equally as harmful to women. My experience has made me very intolerant toward sexist ideas and it is hard for me to just accept people’s ignorance towards the matter because I would never wish what I went through on anybody–not even my worst enemy.

These thoughts have been inside me for a while now but I had been so torn up and confused about my feelings toward ASSface because I never got any closure from the situation. I was just left hurt. And although I was finally able to deal with what happened, I was not able to deal with the separate but intertwined situation that happened with him. So last month, when I ran into him at a party, and we talked about everything, and he apologized and ladadadada I thought maybe he changed? Maybe he gets it now? So I gave him another chance to be a part of my life. I did so because I wanted to forgive him. And I just wanted to move on from everything. But I soon realized this was a mistake because nothing had changed. He was the same misogynistic asshole, and he treated me like I was the one who needed to work to be back in his life in a significant way. And after a few weeks of nonsense, back and forth “friendship”, “I love you” and “I didn’t mean it in that way,” and blatant disrespect and disregard for my autonomy and human emotions, I finally realized that I had to cut him off for good. I finally accepted that it was just not meant to be. After what he did to me in October, he did not deserve a 2nd chance. He didn’t deserve anything from me. And he still didn’t get that. But I finally got it. I finally realized that this whole time, it’s all been about me and not him. I realized that I had to do what was best for me. And although, it wasn’t easy saying goodbye, I knew it was right.

This entire situation has been extremely hard for me, but I took away from it. I learned some important lessons that I think everybody has to learn eventually:

1. When somebody shows you who they are, believe them

ASSface revealed his true colors in October when he treated me like I was nothing. He showed that he was selfish, insensitive, sexist, immature, and just generally cruel. But because I’m a good person and I understand my own intentions, I like to see the good in people. I tried to look past his cruelty and see the person who I thought he was before the monster reared it’s ugly head. But I shouldn’t have. Yes, people make mistakes. And no, nobody is perfect. But people are who they are. And when times get tough, people reveal their true selves. Going forward, I now know that not everybody has a good heart. And that’s okay. But once they reveal this, instead of hoping there is some good inside, I learned that it is best to leave them alone. Perhaps they will grow into better individuals and perhaps not, but either way, that is not my business. I know for a fact that what you put out into the universe always comes back TWO-FOLD, and Karma is already handling her shit. Next.

2. Forgiveness doesn’t always mean second chances

Forgiveness is for yourself and for nobody else. In order to release pain, sadness, and anger from our hearts, we must forgive those who have wronged us. Otherwise, we will always be holding on to toxic, negative energy. And for what? They did their dirt and they moved on. In order to move on once you’ve been scarred, forgiveness is a must. BUT, this does not mean that the people who have wronged you deserve to be let back into your heart. Your heart is sacred and nobody but you can protect it.

3. Self-Love will forever be key

You are the most important person in your life. Self-Love is so important because if you don’t love yourself, you will always be vulnerable to being burned by others. When you love yourself, it is easier to accept that somebody else doesn’t love you because who the fuck are they when you’ve got YOURSELF? Who can tell you that you aren’t perfect when you know in your heart of hearts that you are. When you know you’re golden nobody else can tear you down. I had to realize that no matter how much I loved ASSface or anybody else, I had to love MALIKA first–before anything and before anybody. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to heal and move on from tragedy. I am a very loving person, and most of the time, all I want to do is love people. I just want to share my love and I want to be loved in return. Because of this, it was hard to separate my desire to love others with my need to love myself so that I can feel whole. I believe that healing begins with knowing and loving yourself. Before opening your heart to anybody else, you must be able to look inside your heart and know that before anybody else’s bullshit is let in, you must recognize your own worth.

I am still healing and working to get to the best place that I can be spiritually, mentally, and emotionally–but because of these hard lessons that I was forced to learn, I am getting closer to being where I want to be every day. I have finally reached a place where I can openly share my story with others and I hope that my words can help anybody who may be going through a rough time.

Much love,

xo Malika