The following interview contains references to sexual assault and abuse, some of which you may find triggering. If you would prefer to be directed to our help and support directory click here. 

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LGBT HERO sat down with Bev Higgins, LGBTQ+ Independent Sexual Violence Advocate for the Rape & Sexual Violence Project (RSVP) to talk about the impact of sexual assault and consent on the LGBTQ+ community.

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LGBT HERO: Can you tell us a bit more about being the ISVA (Independent Sexual Violence Advocate) services for RSVP?

Bev Higgins: The topic of sexual assault and consent is especially important for the LGBTQ+ community, and the opportunity to discuss these difficult topics is much needed. I’ve worked in this field for many years and also have personal experience. Unfortunately, many people I know have also been affected by sexual assault or abuse.

What does sexual consent mean to you, and how can it be communicated effectively in LGBTQ+ relationships or relationships in general?

Sexual consent is a big thing, and it’s often overlooked. Any sexual contact should be something you want to do, that you’re enjoying, and that you feel safe and comfortable with. From my experience and what others have shared with me, people sometimes feel pressured into doing things they don’t want to. For example, “I do love them, but I didn’t want them to think I didn’t love them, so I went along with it” or “They would get moody or not talk to me if I didn’t do it, so I just went along with it.” That’s not consent—it’s coercion. Consent is freely given, without pressure or guilt, and if you don’t want to engage, that should be respected. If you say no, there shouldn’t be any sulking, guilt trips, or physical pressure.

When we are aware of boundaries and communicate them clearly, and feel listened to, we feel safe. Things can get tricky or more blurred in darkrooms, at chemsex parties etc, but it’s about checking in with each other regularly.

Yes, even in sex-on-premises venues or chemsex parties, it’s hard to know what people are okay with. They might be under the influence of substances, or there might be an assumption that because you’re in a dark room “anything goes.” It’s important to check in with your partner about what’s okay and what’s not. For example, if you kiss someone on a date, it doesn’t mean you’ve consented to sex. Consent for one act doesn’t imply consent for everything else.

It’s also important to recognise that if someone is asleep and whoever they’re with tries to do something to them, that’s not consent. You can’t get consent from someone who is unconscious. Sadly, this happens a lot at chemsex parties. Substances can change a person’s capacity to freely choose who they engage with. For instance, they might be okay with the first person they engaged with, when they were okay, but not the rest of the people in the space.

Do you think there’s a better understanding of consent now compared to, say, five years ago?

It’s a difficult question. I’d like to say yes, there has been progress. Some people are starting to understand consent better, but there’s still a lot of confusion. Some younger people, for instance, see certain behaviours as normal, but they aren’t. A lot of them might see non-fatal strangulation in porn and think it’s acceptable, but it’s not. It’s dangerous, and a lot of women and other victims have said they didn’t want that. In some cases, the body reacts in a way that isn’t a conscious choice, but a trauma response.

So, just because someone isn’t physically resisting doesn’t mean they’re consenting. Silence or lack of resistance can be a sign of fear or trauma, not consent. It’s important to seek feedback from your partner to make sure they’re enjoying it and want it.

The way porn affects young people is concerning because their brains are still developing. They absorb messages about sexuality during this time, which can lead to distorted views on what’s healthy in relationships. What they see in porn is often not an accurate reflection of real-life relationship dynamics.

What are the barriers for people reporting sexual abuse? How could they overcome some of these barriers?

There are quite a few barriers that people face when trying to report, and my work and personal life are focused on overcoming them. One barrier is that not everyone is open about their sexuality or gender identity. Predators may exploit this, threatening to out people or share compromising images or videos. Additionally, cultural factors, like honour-based abuse, can increase the risk of not being believed or facing severe consequences. Even when people do disclose abuse, victim-blaming is common, and shame and guilt often fall on the victim, even though they’ve done nothing wrong.

It's useful to highlight misconceptions about honour-based abuse. For example, people associate it with certain cultures, religions or belief systems. We know that honour-based abuse is neither a cultural tradition, or religious practice and can occur in any community, regardless of faith or religion. We also know shame can include toxic components such as silence, secrecy and judgment by self and from others and community. The fear of being rejected or excluded from your culture, for some people, can be overwhelming

That’s right. The LGBTQ+ community includes many different subcultures and it’s not easily understood or recognised by people who aren’t in them. For example, many gay men use hook-up apps, where they may experience rejection, shame, or exclusion. Certain spaces like dark rooms or saunas complicate this because professional organisations like the police might not don’t know how to deal with that.

What do you think venue owners can do to reduce barriers for people reporting abuse?

During my work with venue owners, something that became apparent is they're scared in one sense to even mention sexual assault because they don't want people to think it happens in their venues; but actually, there's another way looking at it -- that if they’re being proactive and dealing with those issues, the venue is going to be safer, because assaults in these venues do happen. Acknowledging this and telling people that you know how to deal with it sends a message that the venue is safe

Displaying visible messages about consent, and ensuring staff are trained, helps people feel supported. For example, displaying simple info on posters, especially near sensitive spaces like dark rooms or saunas, might reassure customers. Staff should also be aware that even if someone chooses not to report it right away, they’re still valid in their experience.

Should venue owners make their messages clear by adding stronger, visible signage, like consent posters and a quick QR code for more resources?

Absolutely. With posters and advertising, they need to be simple and succinct, with basic information. It’s a bit old school, but stickers on the back of toilet doors for instance with a QR code where people can get more information later. It’s about helping them get information and education in multiple different ways. And to what you were saying earlier, about being believed. That’s really important, because for me, it took so much courage to even try to tell someone, and if they judge you or don’t believe you it just shuts you down, and that’s not fair, because people take a long time to get to the point of speaking out.

If a friend or family member told you they’d been sexually assaulted, what would you say?

The most important thing is to be there with them and support them. It's not necessarily trying to fix the situation right there and then, but your presence is vital. It’ a privilege to be trusted with this information, so it's about saying, I hear you, I believe you, and we can help. Make sure that they are safe and explain that there is support out there and we're going to help you to work through this, when they’re ready. Sexual abuse or assault doesn’t have to define your life, and with the right help they can work through it and have a great life. It’s helpful to remind people that support is always available, even for incidents as minor as unwanted touching. Encouraging reporting of even minor issues can help build a safer culture. Sexual abuse support goes beyond just the physical – emotional help is equally necessary.

How can survivors also discuss non-recent sexual abuse?

It’s important to know that there's no time limit on reporting abuse. For those who’ve experienced child abuse, for example, they might not feel ready to speak up until years later. It’s crucial to understand that seeking help or even reporting doesn’t always have to be immediate. There are many support avenues, and for example, sexual assault referral centres (SARCs) can do forensic testing within a certain window without the immediate involvement of police, even small things, like unwanted touch, can violate consent.

It's also important to try and record dates, times, or any identifiable information about an assault, isn’t it?

Yes. And you can do this anonymously. Sometimes trauma can affect how you remember things, but if you can remember things like when it happened or what the perpetrator wore, that’s helpful. If you’re sexually assaulted and gravity does its thing with fluids, you can you’re your underwear in a plastic bag and take it to an SARC centre. Mobile phones are important too. Contact info, even a screenshot of text messages or social media interactions could serve as crucial evidence and possibly help link to other offences. Keep these records as a backup, even if you don’t feel ready to look at them.

How can stigma and discrimination affect LGBTQ+ survivors of sexual abuse?

It’s really hard because there’s so much harsh judgment out there. Even from my own experience, I know that people don’t always want to believe you. Even family members or close friends—those you’d expect to believe you no matter what—may side with the offender. That’s heartbreaking. Sometimes, the offender is someone you’re close to, so you have mixed feelings. You might even miss parts of them, even though you know they’ve done something awful. That can lead to what’s known as a trauma bond, which is incredibly complex to work through.

Some survivors withdraw completely, avoiding people because of how traumatic it is, while others might express a form of self-sabotage or try to regain control in sexual ways—sometimes becoming overly sexual, even if it’s not what they truly want. It’s their way of saying, “I’ll do it before someone takes it from me again.” Trauma impacts people differently, and society’s stigma, shame, and victim-blaming make it even harder to cope.

The only people who deserve stigma are the perpetrators—those who are often manipulative, charming, and well-liked. Behind closed doors, they do these horrible things. It’s rarely the stereotypical “stranger in the alley.” More often, it’s someone you know—someone you trust—which makes it much harder for victims to come forward. People tend to believe the façade these offenders create, dismissing accusations as lies because “that person could never do something like that.”

How does intersectionality shape the experiences of LGBTQ+ survivors, especially those with marginalized racial, ethnic, or socioeconomic backgrounds?

Intersectionality is such an important factor. It’s already difficult enough for cisgender, heterosexual individuals to report abuse, but if you add layers of marginalisation—like race, socioeconomic background, age, or gender identity—it becomes exponentially harder.

There’s unconscious bias, microaggressions, and systemic barriers that people face daily. As a member of the LGBTQ+ community, I’ve experienced microaggressions throughout my life, but others might not fully understand what that’s like. For survivors in more conservative communities or with certain religious beliefs, it’s even harder. Being LGBTQ+ may already make them feel rejected or “unacceptable,” and that fear of judgment or expulsion from their community stops many people from seeking the help they need.

What are some signs of sexual abuse?

That’s a difficult question because everyone responds differently. There are indicators, but they’re not definitive. In my case, I became withdrawn—a selective mute, almost—but because I was still achieving in school, nobody thought to ask what was wrong. I desperately wanted help, but no one noticed.

It’s about being aware of sudden changes in someone’s usual behaviour. Some people shut down, become depressed, or stop looking after themselves. They might not get out of bed, work, or maintain basic hygiene. On the other end of the spectrum, some might become overly gregarious, masking their trauma by appearing “fine.”

There’s also hypersexual behaviour—taking risks or engaging in harmful sexual activity that’s out of character. Conversely, some survivors withdraw completely from anything sexual and avoid physical touch. Others turn to substances like drugs or alcohol to cope, using them as a way to block out the pain.

Sometimes, survivors feel as though someone noticing means they’ve been exposed. Instead of directly addressing what might have happened, it’s better to say, “I hope you’re okay. I just want you to know I’m here if you ever need to talk or need support.” That way, you’re leaving the door open without pressure. They’ll know you’re a safe person to come to when they’re ready.

Do you think one of the barriers for people not reporting is because they may not believe the system will lead to any prosecution?

Yes, the belief that “this won’t lead to an outcome” can be a big barrier. You’ve probably heard in the media about what they call rape myths and things like that. So, there’s still quite a lot of understanding and attitudes that we need to educate people on. Even the people that are out there, like you say, faith leaders and other professionals that people might go to, still need that understanding to be open when people approach them. Survivors don’t need to feel that the person won’t believe them.

What would you want to say to people reading this who may have experienced or are experiencing sexual assault and abuse?

There’s a lot I want to say. First, if anyone has gone through abuse or sexual assault, don't blame yourself. You haven't done anything wrong. Many people struggle with self-blame, but you deserve to go out and live your life. No one has the right to touch you or do anything that you don’t consent to. Also, there are people who will believe you and understand you because they have the professional knowledge about trauma. You might not have reacted the way you thought you would or wanted to, but you’ve survived something truly traumatic—and that’s an achievement in itself. It takes a lot of courage to speak up, and if you are telling anyone, you're not alone. Sadly, it happens often, but nobody talks about it. The more you talk to people, you might find others have experienced it too—your friends, your family, even people you’d never expect.

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Get help and support

Rape Crisis England & Wales has a 24/7 helpline. You can call the Rape and Sexual Abuse Support Line on 0808 500 2222. You can also chat to them online at 247sexualabusesupport.org.uk.

Galop, the LGBTQ+ anti-abuse charity has a helpline, email and web chat at www.galop.org.uk. Helpline: 0800 999 5428.

Find further help and support in our directory.