Whenever I hear or read about someone who learned that one of their friends raped or sexually assaulted another one of their friends, the outcome tends to be as devastating as it is predictable: people tend to side with the rapists they know. Sometimes they blame or shame their friend who was raped, sometimes they make elaborate excuses for their friend who committed the sexual assault. Sometimes they simply decide their friend is lying about being raped and move on. All of these choices are as lazy, dishonest, and cowardly as they are harmful to the survivor of sexual assault. It’s time for a new narrative, which is why I’ve decided to share something that happened within my own social circle (all names have been changed).

Recently, I went to meet a few of my friends for a Ladies’ Night and my friend Kelly and I were the first to arrive. She told me she was very glad to have me alone for a few minutes because she needed to talk to me — apparently our mutual friend Eva had reached out to her because she was worried about Riley, a good friend of mine, and her relatively new relationship with a guy named Jerry. Now, I wasn’t close to Eva or Jerry, but I liked them both and knew they had dated very briefly. Kelly told me, “When Jerry dated Eva, something happened. Eva didn’t go into the details with me, but it sounds like he might have assaulted her.”

I was shocked. At that time, I would’ve described Jerry as “nice with a boring streak.” He was kinda quiet, always friendly — we’d bonded over our mutual love of whiskey. He was not at all the kind of person I could imagine being capable of sexually assaulting someone. I thought to myself, There must be some kind of misunderstan—

I stopped, remembering that the vast majority of rapes are committed by someone known to the victim, which by definition includes trusted friends and lovers, rather than evil monsters lurking in the shadows. I remembered the few young men I’d called friends in the past who had raped or sexually assaulted other friends of mine without me having any clue until much later. Most importantly, I remembered that the best way to help a rapist rape again is to disbelieve those brave enough to speak out about their assaults.

All I said was “Holy shit.”

Kelly continued, saying that Eva was worried about what Jerry might do to Riley, but, since Eva and Riley had never met, would it be okay for Eva to email me the details of what had happened and if I could take it from there. I agreed, and the next morning I awoke to an email from Eva.

She described being depressed over the end of a serious relationship and the pressure she’d received from those she thought cared about her to immediately move on and find someone new. Jerry was going through a break-up of sorts himself, so the two started dating. Eva described how her depression intensified, how she felt numb most of the time and like Jerry was taking over her life. Despite this, she continued to be told by those she thought had her best interests at heart to stay with Jerry, to let him take care of her. Eva listened and, one night, woke up to Jerry raping her. She froze until he was finished, then cried until he left. The next day, Jerry apologized and promised it would never happen again. Eva stayed with him, hoping that it had all been some sort of horrible misunderstanding. Then, about a month later, Jerry confessed to sexually assaulting her again while she was asleep, only, this time, she hadn’t woken up. Eva ran to a friend’s house and called a battered women’s shelter for help the next day.

I was horrified. I wanted it not to be true. For a moment, I thought it might be best to find out Jerry’s side of the story before doing anything, but I stopped myself, remembering how incredibly uncommon false rape accusations are. I also remembered that Eva had no known history of lying or vengeful pettiness, not to mention the fact that I would have believed her without hesitation if she’d been describing the actions of someone I had never met. And, for a second time, I remembered that the best way to help a rapist rape again is to disbelieve those brave enough to speak out about their assaults.

So I decided to trust Eva, and I spent the next several hours figuring out how I was going to confront Riley. She and I were close, but that was a recent development and I was terrified that she would become angry with me—that she might never speak to me again. While those risks made me anxious, my friend’s physical safety was at stake, so I had to take a chance.

I decided to casually ask Riley if we could meet up that night, since I thought the phone would be too impersonal for this kind of a discussion, but she could immediately tell something was wrong. I tried avoiding going into the details, but this approach only upset her, so I chose to just come out and say it. I told Riley that Eva had reached out to me out of concern for her safety, because Jerry had raped Eva when they were together. I explained that he had apologized, but, a month later, Jerry had sexually assaulted her again.

There was a long pause. I held my breath.

Riley broke the silence by thanking me for the information (and she meant it), assuring me that Jerry had not harmed her in any way, much to my relief. She said she was going to confront Jerry about all this and I told her that I was here for her and would support any decision she made (and I meant it). The next day, we met up and had a heart-to-heart over comfort food. Apparently, Jerry had confirmed everything Eva had written, although he maintained that it had all been a “misunderstanding” during a “fucked up” time of his life. Riley and Jerry broke up about three weeks later.

Later, I thought about how we all handled the situation. Kelly could have easily decided Eva was lying or overreacting or simply not approached me at that Ladies’ Night. I could’ve demanded Eva prove she was telling the truth or just never called Riley. Riley could have assumed Eva was trying to hurt Jerry with false accusations or she could have chosen to forget the whole thing. Instead, we listened to and trusted each other, as we would have in any other situation, and we chose to act when we saw it was necessary, rather than making excuses for doing nothing.

I doubt we’re the only social circle to act in such a way that was supportive of the friend who was raped—not to mention the safety of our other friends who might have been sexually assaulted—rather than the rapist, but I’ve also never heard or read about a group that behaved this way. Stories like mine need to become commonplace, not only because survivors of sexual assault deserve it, but because people need a reference point for how to behave when they discover that one of their friends is a rapist. While there are lots of resources for helping a friend who’s a survivor of sexual assault, I have not seen any that acknowledge that the rapist might be someone you also know and trust. We need to include this reality in our discussions of rape, otherwise the lazy tendency toward denial, victim blaming, and inaction will continue uninterrupted.

We can do better — we owe it to our friends who’ve been raped to do better. I hope that my story can be a reference point for others who discover that they’re friends with a rapist, and that people continue to share their own experiences—good and bad—so that we can arm ourselves with information and do our best to support our friends who need it the most.