Kira Herdman

This post is very personal and very distressing to write. I was recently accused of r@ping someone.

Before I start getting into detail I would like to point out I was never charged with this abhorrent offence. All names that are mentioned in this blog post have also been changed to protect identities.

Background.

I went to an LGBT+ meeting every Saturday night. This was one of the highlights of my week as I am usually alone most of the week, as a single lady usually is.

Usually after this meeting is finished most of us go to the pub for a few drinks. On this occasion there were only 2 of us, myself and let’s call this person Joe, a trans man.

I thought Joe was a good friend, he is married to another man and we got along thanks to both of us being transgender. We usually go to the gym together but recently he has been missing a lot of the Gym sessions.

After a few pints, he mentioned feeling controlled by his husband. For example, his husband has a tracker on his phone and sometimes Joe can’t leave the house because of his wheelchair. They’re both wheelchair-bound. This restriction on Joe’s freedom is why he hasn’t been able to go to the gym. He also told me they’ve split up.

Now I identify as a lesbian but would go with a transgender or very feminine men. Joe identifies as a gay man, but he said he is secretly bi.

A local pub I know has a drag queen on every Saturday night, so I asked Joe if he wanted to go and see them. He said yes why not, so we went and had a few pints and shots at this pub. While there the drag queen said there was a young drag queen on at another local pub so we went there afterwards.

While at the last pub Joe came on to me, pulling me to him to kiss me, feeling my boobs etc. I didn’t mind this as I was interested in him as we have similar interests etc. While at the bar he messaged me on WhatsApp that he wanted to have sex with me etc as well. So I messaged him back saying if you are serious then feel my backside after we leave the pub, which he did just before we got to the front door.

We went back to mine, holding hands all the way home. When we got home we had some oral sex. I told him to stop after about 1/2 hour and told him message me in the morning if he still felt this way. He then went home and I thought nothing of it. In fact he left his phone and other things at my house by mistake so I messaged a mutual friend that I had them and could she let him know in the morning as she lived near him.

The next morning.

The next morning I got a message on WhatsApp from Joe as he had the LGBT+ group’s phone. He said he didn’t remember anything after about 11pm that night so he asked me what happened. As I was in town at the time I told him exactly what happened via a phone call.

I thought nothing of it, so comes to Monday.

The day of my arrest.

I messaged Joe about his phone and other things, that I will take them to the gym we go to. He didn’t reply or go to the gym as we usually do. I didn’t think anything of it as him not turning up has happened about 5 times before.

In the afternoon the police showed up at my home, saying that Joe has accused me of r@pe and I was being arrested for it. I was in total shock as you can imagine. In fact the main thing I was worried about was my cat, Bella.

As I sat in the police van on the way to the station, my mind raced with thoughts about Saturday night. I knew I had some crucial WhatsApp messages on my phone that could bolster my defence. However, Joe had set an automatic timer on his messages disappearing, so I was concerned they might vanish.

Then I remembered my Apple Watch and quickly checked to see if all the messages were still there. I was immensely relieved to find they were.

The police interview.

After about four hours in the cells, I was brought in for an interview. Since I couldn’t afford a solicitor, the duty solicitor accompanied me.

The interview lasted about an hour. I won’t go into detail but they showed me screenshots of WhatsApp messages which was a huge relief. These messages corroborated everything I said during the interview.

One WhatsApp message to my mutual friend had a much later timestamp than the others. When they asked about it, I explained I’d sent it after he’d left.

Towards the end of the interview the detective was surprised by my clarity about the events of the night. I’d recounted every detail including the number of pints we’d had. I explained that I have PTSD from my time in the forces and one of the symptoms is Hyper Awareness.

This means I’ve developed a knack for noticing things others miss like the number of cars parked on the street and the location of the exits. I can recall events in detail for about a week before they begin to fade from memory.

I also mentioned that I have CCTV at home so if they’d like they could view the footage of Joe and me arriving and leaving that night.

Getting released.

After another few hours I got released from police custody after they had taken my fingerprints and DNA. The detectives took me home as they wanted to see the CCTV footage.

The CCTV camera’s I have are EZVIZ, which have the time and date stamps embedded onto the video, along with night vision capture. The time stamp showed that he left about 20 minutes before I sent that WhatsApp message to the mutual friend.

Again I am so glad the police got screenshots of all the WhatsApp messages before they disappeared, which did so the day after.

The footage backed up what I said, and even showed that when Joe was leaving, Joe grabbed my arm and pulled me to him to kiss me while feeling my backside. Who does that after they have, according to him, just been raped?

I made a copy of the footage and sent it to them while they were at my home so then they know I have not messed with it. I also messaged the mutual friend to say I wont be going back to the LGBT+ group as Joe is now running it.

The wait. Month 1.

Upon my release, the police informed me that the investigation could take up to three months before they decide whether to charge me. While I know I’ve been falsely accused, nothing is entirely certain when it’s beyond your control.

Your life essentially comes to a standstill while you wait and all you can think about is the police’s investigation. It can be incredibly frustrating.

Fortunately, my few friends were incredibly supportive. I can count them on one hand excluding family. While I don’t have many friends, these situations really reveal who your true friends are.

I’m so grateful for three excellent friends who live nearby as well as my cousin and his partner. I visited them on Wednesday after my arrest and their support was exactly what I needed. I am also very grateful for my oldest friend, who I have known since we were teenagers. She is furious about this.

It took five days before I ventured beyond the corner shop and my cousins’ place. That’s not like me; I’m usually out every day either at the coffee shop or the gym, which helps me cope with my PTSD. I even paused my gym membership until this was over since Joe goes there too.

The police did however keep my iPhone while they investigated, so I had to get a PAYG sim and borrow a phone from a neighbour/friend who is like a mother to me.

During this period I wrote in my diary things like I hate my life right now and I hate the fact that this is hovering over me like the Sword of Damocles, waiting to strike me down.

I have been reading Love in Exile by Shon Faye and that book just resonates with me. I was thinking why would somebody wants to be with me, not just as a lesbian transgender woman, but as someone who has been falsely accused of r@pe? Even typing that word out makes me cringe and just want to cry. Sometimes I just feel like I will never find love.

Thirteen days into the wait, I finally broke down and cried like a baby for about two hours straight. If it weren’t for Bella, my cat, cuddling, and purring at me during those two hours I would have probably given up. Animals are such precious creatures.

The wait. Month 2.

The wait was becoming increasingly difficult. I’m writing this at 1:30 am, still worrying about what’s to come and reflecting on my experiences in 2025.

Over the past month, I’ve cried almost every night or been deeply depressed. Some nights I have not even slept at all.

I’ve been thinking about an ex-friend, who I believe I was probably in love with. We had a disagreement about three months ago, and we haven’t spoken since. I wish I had her support now.

I’m fortunate to have other friends like my neighbour, another transgender woman who helped me begin HRT, my oldest friend since I was in my teenage years, and a friend I met at the rainbow café. As she once said to me, she listens to both sides of a situation before deciding what to believe. These people, along with Bella, have given me immense strength since my arrest, and I can’t express it fully.

I’ve just begun watching Lip Service on the Roku Channel. It’s about three lesbian women living in Glasgow and I can really relate to one of them, Frankie. She’s depressed, lonely, feels like there’s nowhere to go and she doesn’t belong anywhere yet she doesn’t let anyone help her.

Things are finally starting to catch up with me, I just feel like I am spiralling into an inescapable black hole.

I hope I snap out of this soon. I’m usually depressed this time of year as it is due to my PTSD but this year it’s ten times worse than usual.

The wait. Month 3.

My mental health has steadily declined over the past month. The only reason I haven’t acted rashly is the unwavering support of my friends and my cat Bella.

I’m deeply disappointed with the lack of communication from my solicitors and the police. After about day 15, I haven’t received any meaningful information and I’ve been stuck in limbo ever since.

I understand the investigation might have been delayed due to Christmas and New Year but I don’t think there’s any excuse for the lack of communication. I’ve only been accused of this horrific crime and haven’t been charged.

My only email was from the police after I requested an update. It was simply a noncommittal reply offering no new information.

Sometimes I feel like this is a very low priority for the police to investigate. I looked up how long the police usually take to investigate things like this. The answer came back as 80 days, which for someone whose life is in limbo and knowing I did nothing wrong is a very long time to just be waiting about.

Twelve days before my bail expired, I received an email informing me the police were extending it by three months. This was incredibly disheartening, adding more waiting stress and time my life was on hold.

The wait. Month 4.

This month started with an email from the police. They’ve extended my bail for three months, keeping the same conditions as last month: no charges and no contact with Joe.

The OIC also mentioned that the investigation is now being reviewed by a sergeant to decide on the next steps. While the OIC isn’t sure how long this will take it’s reassuring to know progress is being made.

My solicitor was completely unaware of the bail extension. What are they doing?

I saw Joe and an ex mutual friend, let’s call her Emily, down town this month. We simply ignored each other. It was a bit upsetting that they were all smiles, like they had nothing in the world to bother them, while I have been going through hell these last 4 months, I must admit.

I saw someone in town who goes to the Rainbow cafe as well during this month, they said something is not right about the allegation made against me even though, at that time, I had said nothing about what I know about it. This boosted my confidence a lot.

The wait. Month 5.

It’s a bit disappointing to be in month five of the wait. At the start of last month I thought we were nearing the end of this long and difficult phase of my life but here we are five months later and it feels like we’re still nowhere near it.

Phoned my solicitor up on the first day of this month, they had nothing new. They just confirmed my bail date but that was it. They could not give me more information on how much more longer this will take and they had no idea, but said this is normal for this type of investigation.

This uncertainty really messes with your mind, and I can only hope that it will end very soon.

The main way I kept my mental health healthy during this month until the police cleared me was by keeping busy. I got myself a cheap DSLR to take up amateur photography again and messed around with the various computers I have. I also leaned heavily on my friends, and of course, my cat.

A fly in the ointment.

Fifteen days into this wait, DNA results came back. Obviously, as we had oral sex, my DNA was there, but the way it was released was unacceptable. I found out thanks to my cousin, who had a message from Emily, that she was with Joe when the results came back. This was before even my solicitor had that information.

Emily then took it upon herself to tell other people about this, breaching confidentiality and safeguarding, as well as maybe messing up the police investigation that was ongoing. She even said I had been charged and was out on bail pending court. Again, I broke down at my neighbour’s home thanks to this, as it felt like everything was against me.

Yet again, my friends helped me through this day. I have to give a special shout-out to the friend who, even though she was busy, was always at the end of WhatsApp, listening, and giving advice, and of course to the neighbour who is like a mother to me and who has never doubted me during this ordeal.

I forwarded the screenshot of the message to the police as I have the email address of the police officer who is investigating the alleged rape.

I got an email from the police the next day. This is part of that response :

To be clear, no forensic/DNA enquiries have been made at this stage, and it does take some time for results to come back, so that is simply not true.

So I don’t know where this DNA test had come from if the police did not order one to be done.

As the officer mentioned in his email, this kind of intervention by others disrupts police investigations. Emily had no right to spread rumours about me as I hadn’t even been charged with anything.

This was the first time I had felt a bit of hope that I would, as I know I was, to be proved innocent at the end of all this.

Having this on my mind on my 50th birthday.

During the wait, I turned 50. I couldn’t celebrate at all thanks to thinking about this all the time. In the run-up to my birthday, my mental health was bad; I was really struggling with what was going on.

On the actual day, my mental health went downhill a lot. I put on a face for people and went into town as I needed to get some food, but inside, I felt dead.

As usual, Bella the cat was incredibly helpful and so was my neighbour Carol, whom I’ve come to think of as my mother. I didn’t share my struggles with anyone but brushed off people who tried to chat with me on WhatsApp during this time saying “I don’t want to talk right now my head isn’t in a good place”.

Staying positive was incredibly difficult, especially during the week between Christmas and New Year where my birthday lands.

A turning point for my mental health.

A major turning point for my mental health came on the 20th of December when one of my seven trusted friends invited me to meet her mates at a pub. There were three of them, and they were all incredibly nice to me. They already knew what I was going through thanks to my friend’s telling them earlier.

Initially, I was a bit annoyed that she had done this, but then I realised she had the same absolute trust in her friends as I had in her. All of them were on my side in a way. This was the first time since everything started going downhill that I could see a glimmer of hope. Here were three complete strangers to me, whom I had only met for a few hours, yet I felt like I had known them for years.

True friendship is everlasting.

Blackouts.

As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been reading Shon Faye’s book Love In Exile. There’s a chapter called “Blackouts” and I’d like to paraphrase some of it here.

Blackouts occur when the hippocampus, a densely packed structure of neurons in the brain that is responsible for memory (and so called because it is shaped like a seahorse, hippocampus in Greek), is impaired by ethanol. It’s a common misconception that blackouts primarily arise simply by the overconsumption of alcohol. In fact, they begin when blood alcohol concentration rises quickly – typically after it hits 0.6 per cent. This is as much about the speed if drinking as the amount. When I drank, I not only drank more than others, I drank faster. Hence blackouts are more common among collage students and other young binge drinkers who easily misjudge the speed and quantity of alcohol they consume. Blacking out can occasionally creep up on adults who don’t drink compulsively but who drink on an empty stomach, or who combine drinking with certain prescribed medications that lead to faster impairment of the mind. They’re more likely to happen to women than men because of differences in mass to body composition.

I’m not sure if Joe experienced this, as he mentioned he doesn’t recall anything after a certain point that night. However, Shon explains that people in a blackout can sometimes hold seemingly normal conversations. This suggests they retain the memory of what was said a few seconds or minutes ago but can’t convert these interactions into long-term memories.

The attitude of the police.

While I was in custody the police was very polite, and respected that I was a transgender woman at all times. I was searched by a female officer, called by my proper pronouns 90% of the time (there was some slip ups but I come to expect that from everyone). My local police force has a bad reputation about the care of transgender people but all I saw was nothing but respect for who I am. For that I am thankful.

The day I was told I the case has been dropped

Eighteen weeks to the day, I received a knock on my front door and the OIC stood there. I invited him in and he informed me that the case had been dropped and no charges had been brought against me. He also returned my iPhone that they had taken.

To describe my feelings as giddy is an understatement. The first thing I did was reach out to all my friends who have supported me through this difficult time. They’re all obviously very happy for me.

The police also advised me against posting this blog post but I believe it’s important to do so. I hear a lot about people being convicted of this horrific crime but rarely about those falsely accused. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

Conclusion.

The entire experience has been incredibly stressful. It’s exacerbated my PTSD and I now lack the support of the LGBT+ group I was part of.

I retreated for a while, pausing my gym membership and later cancelling it because I couldn’t face returning. I also stopped posting to this blog and the radio show for TransRadio UK.

Eighteen weeks is a long time for your life to be in limbo. Sometimes I felt like giving up, but for my cat Bella and all my friends, I didn’t. This, along with all the pressures of being transgender in the current political environment, took a toll on my mental health. It will be a very long time before I can really trust anyone, and get close to anyone, again.

I want to express my deepest gratitude to the friends who stood by me during this incredibly difficult time. It’s during these moments that you truly discover who your true friends are. A huge shout out to the person who’s like a mother to me; you’re probably the most important person in my life. I’m so thankful I also have my furry companion, Bella. Without her I might have made some regrettable decisions.

This experience will leave a lasting impression. I’ve lost a lot of faith in humanity and it’ll take me a long time to trust anyone again.

I never want to go through this again.