I’m breaking my silence. Rozalia Sofia Leyderman raped me.
She admitted it, but she never took responsibility.
Instead, she manipulated me and tried to erase what happened. And now,
I refuse to let her hide.
This is my story. This is what she did to me. If you read this, please listen carefully—because I am not the only one who she has hurt.
On the night of August 26th or 27th, 2024, my then-girlfriend Rozalia raped me while I was taking a shower.
We had just had sex earlier, during which I’d felt extremely uncomfortable.
I was 19, a virgin. I had told her I was considering breaking up with her because she was nothing like she seemed in our calls, I had told her I felt nothing when we had sex, that I would just wait for her to cum but it was uncomfortable for me, she would still fuck me regardless.
We were in the shower, and I finally confessed. I told Roza something that was very difficult for me: “No.”
I told her I was repulsed by her dick and her bushy pubic hair. She told me she wouldn’t shave. “Does that mean we can’t have sex?” she asked me. “Yes,” I told her we couldn’t.
Although these things were true, that wasn’t my intention. My intention was to tell her I wasn’t comfortable nor ready, that I didn’t want to have sex for the time being. But it was so hard to say no to her, she would never ask me before doing things, like when she would say she was going to put her third finger in, and I would say okay, and then she would put her dick inside instead and I would cry from pain because it hurt so much, and she wouldn’t take it out until I would beg her to please please take it out, while crying, and I would be left shuddering in a little ball, with my entire body burning from pain.
I remember she was upset, and she moved to the other corner of the bath. Perhaps she wanted to leave the shower but I’m not sure. I came close to comfort and console her. I didn’t want to make her sad. But what followed I still cannot understand.
Out of the blue, She began to kiss me, forcing her lips against mine and touching me and herself. I remember she would touch her dick and mock me, “Oh, so you’re disgusted by this?”
“Yes,” I would say back.
And then she would touch me down there. “What else don’t you like about me?” she would ask me as this went on. And I would tell her, but she wouldn’t stop.
I remember feeling powerless, paralyzed with fear, as she grabbed me and pulled me closer to her. I felt like nothing I could do or say was safe anymore.
After the shower, I remember she took me to her bed and raped me again. I remember feeling frozen and confused, I couldn't understand what was happening.
During the rape, my body reacted in a way that I didn’t understand at the time. It horrified me. Later, I learned that this is called forced arousal—when the body responds against your will. It doesn’t mean it wasn’t rape. It just made it even more confusing and painful.
I was terrified, while she put her dick in and out of me, hoping, waiting, for it to just end.
I said I didn’t want to have sex three times, yet that was apparently not enough for her. What ensued was not just humiliation and rape—it was repeated violence that has haunted me ever since.
She would not accept me saying NO, she would just do whatever she felt like doing, and if I didn’t budge she would yell at me, threaten me with punishment, it was terrifying. She would not ask for consent for the sex.
This wasn’t an isolated incident. Throughout the first few days, Roza had been pressuring me into having sex with her.
I told her I felt more comfortable wearing underwear to sleep but she would push me to take them off on the first night.
When we were in bed, I remember I agreed to go to sleep, spooning,
and then she just started humping my ass, without asking me, when I
just wanted us to hug.
And I couldn’t do anything, I remember feeling like I wasn’t
supposed to say no, because if I did, as in the past, she would yell
at me, or she would threaten with leaving me. I felt pressured to do
what she wanted, which was to fuck me. If I had spoken up, I didn’t
know what horrible things would have happened to me.
At the time I didn’t realise I had been raped, but 12 days later, while thinking back, I came to the realisation.
But that night in the shower, I can’t forget it, I felt so scared, and it comes back to my mind so often, it gives me panic attacks, sometimes I start feeling her dick inside my ass and it makes me scream and cry and it feels like I’m in hell. She knew I was quite asexual, and very nervous about the sex, I had confessed to both before.
---
What I cannot understand is why? She makes poems about how much she loves women, but then she rapes us, abuses us, lies to us, cheats on us, grooms us, threatens with assaulting us? How can you love women then?
I was all yours. I can’t understand. Why do this to me? I used to wonder about it but I think I have the answer now. Because she’s a horrible predator, that’s why.
This wasn’t an isolated event, she had been abusive to me since the beginning, manipulating, lying, psychologically abusing, and grooming me.
Months later, I contacted Roza to discuss the rape, I desperately wanted to be convinced the rape hadn’t happened.
However, during our first call, after I read her my memories of the night, she began to weep and confessed to having raped me. I recall she told me, “I raped you, I’m a rapist, don't apologize, it’s not your fault baby.”
I lost my virginity to rape, and every time I think of sex or think of a relationship I’ll just remember how this person raped me.
The nights are the worst. Sleep doesn’t come—it’s waiting, lurking, but never reaching me. When I close my eyes, I don’t rest. I relive it. The feeling of her hands. The weight of her body. The sound of her voice. Showers are a battleground. Stepping in is like stepping back in time, back into that night. My body remembers, even when I want to forget.
I cannot leave the house, terrified that I’ll be raped again.
I have panic attacks and constant anxiety, since the rape I never
feel safe. At home everything feels wrong. I have flashbacks where I
feel her dick thrusting inside and out of me, helpless to do
anything I’m just left paralysed. Sometimes I’m transported to the
moment it happened and I’m left feeling nauseated, usually
unwittingly throwing up.
I have convulsing episodes, and chronic pain from the rape all over
my back and bottom.
---
The thing is, Roza knows all of this.
And when I told her I was paralysed, she tried to gaslight me, “No you weren’t, you were just upset.” No I wasn’t, my torso was paralysed and I couldn’t move my arms or legs. (See Screenshot #3 in the Evidence section.)
“I leave you with all the anger and sadness you feel about me. They belong to you. They are not mine to nurse for as long as you ache. That isn’t fair.” she would tell me. But that is not true, the pain I have, it doesn’t belong to me, she imposed it on me, by oppressing me, by raping me. I didn’t ask to be raped. I didn’t want this pain. She forced it on me.
And she would mock me, repeatedly telling me “how life moves on,” knowing that the rape and year-long abuse left me with C-PTSD.
---
“Even after everything, Roza refused to take responsibility. Instead, she blamed me for holding on to the pain.”
“She told me ‘my life goes on, and so does yours’—as if the rape, the trauma, the manipulation were just inconveniences to move past. As if I was the problem for still hurting.”
---
She even threatened to assault me. Implying she’d leave me with broken bones, bleeding at her doorstep, knocking, unable to move. She also gaslit me, trying to twist reality in her favor. (See Screenshot #2 in the Evidence section.)
But back to the second opportunity I gave her.
After talking with some friends, who asked me not to talk to her, as they saw her as dangerous, I decided to try to "forgive” Roza for what she had done to me. However, I quickly discovered that her abusive behaviour was something she would continue to use on me.
From lying to me on the first call, telling me she was suicidal and depressed because she had raped me, which made me hope she really was sorry for what she had done. To later on, claiming that that was a lie she had made up, that she wasn’t actually depressed, that she didn’t care if she went to jail, and that she just wanted none of her friends to find out.
Most damningly, later on, she would change her mind, claiming that somehow i had given consent... despite never explaining to me how that had happened.
She would have outbursts, she would blame me for "making her feel sad” by informing her she had raped me. She would also blame me for her own irrational behaviour. And blame me for "her hating how much she cares about my opinion of her”.
Roza was abusive to me. From early on I explained I had BPD, which
meant I had a crippling fear of abandonment, and a need for
effective and clear communication.
I would have nightmares of
Roza abandoning me at night.
However, her favourite thing to do to me, in response to any issue, would be to ghost me; something I had described felt like torture and would often lead me to crippling panic attacks, which would leave me paralysed on the floor of my apartment, unable to stand up.
She would constantly criticize me, from the most minute thing, to
the biggest.
She would treat any desire or wish I had as a
bothering imposition she needn’t care much about.
She would
tell me one day we were platonic partners and the next treat me like
I was rubbish.
This is all painful to think through, but here’s a few moments off the top of my mind.
I met Roza a few months after I turned 18. She was 23. I had seen photos she had sent of her when I was 17, I thought she was gorgeous. One day, we began to text.
Our relationship began mostly pushed by her. After confessing to
having had a crush on her when I first saw her, she would begin to
relentlessly flirt with me in calls she would push me for.
She
would tell me in November she was planning on moving to Europe for
me, leaving behind her girlfriend, friends and family. I would find
this a bit odd but she knew it made my little romantic brain fall
head over heels for her.
She would portray herself as my big sister. I would confess to her she was becoming a safe space for me, and she would tell me that made her so happy, and that around her I would be safe.
She would tell me she would beat up my parents, given they had abused me in the past, and that she would protect me from all harm.
This was the first phase of grooming in which the perpetrator finds and satisfies an emotional need of the victim.
However, things quickly went south.
She was quick to tell me she loved me, which I would respond positively to and tell her I loved her too.
She would treat me poorly.
From us setting up a time to call and then her not showing up and me having to wait hours for her to show signs of life.
To yelling at me, for no reason, and making hostile suppositions about me... Telling me that I was acting like her time was owed to me, for trying to see her after a week without seeing her. Then she would tell me, after waiting several hours to be able to see her, that she only had two minutes, which she would measure, and later belittle and insult me for asking if I could see her a little more.
She would also try to manipulate me, by using negative reinforcement.
If I did something she didn’t like, she would bring up her making out with Han Kyul, or her liking another girl in order to make me cry and bring me pain. That way, I would act well, and it would work. As I felt I always had to do better, for her to be happy with me.
She would also treat me like a punching bag, often popping up just to insult me and be cold to me, which left me feeling like I had somehow done something wrong and would leave me unable to do anything else.
This is the isolation phase.
She would tell me I was only hers and that she would take care of me. Which I would believe wholeheartedly at this point.
However, she would continue yelling at me if I ever said the wrong thing or expressed a wish which she didn’t approve of. These was terrifying to me, and I would beg her to please not do it, as it brought me flashbacks from my own abusive father. She would respond by telling her she didn’t care and that that wasn’t her problem.
She would constantly threaten me with leaving me. Like, all the time.
So I constantly tried to act in a way to make her happy, but often not even that would be enough and I would still be ghosted for no reason.
Those were the worst times.
At some point, she made me promise her I wouldn’t leave her, which I did, reminding her I don’t break my promises. (Something she constantly did.)
I remember wanting to leave but knowing I couldn’t, I would fantasize about suicide as the only way to leave this relationship.
I developed an eating disorder, bulimia nervosa, as a result of the stress she would put me through.
We had planned a trip together. First for April, which she postponed for university. Then for May, which she postponed due to her job. And then for June, when she called me the day before the trip crying telling me she hadn’t organised anything or told anyone, and that she had to cancel, when that happened I calmed her down and explained to her it was okay, that it was just a flight and the Paris Airbnb, things we could replace.
Later on, we made a trip for July. However, the night before, she sent me a voice note, telling me she thought I might be a kidnapper and that she was breaking up with me.
I had postponed getting a job because of the trip, I was left completely in the blue every time.
Eventually, after talking to Han Kyul, we managed to get to her, and we got back together. We would later plan a trip for the end of August.
---
For months, I would be left in limbo as, after she confessed to me Han Kyul didn’t know about us, I would ask her to please come clean, not wanting to be a secret. This was extremely stressful as, for months, I would ask her to please tell Han Kyul. But she wouldn’t allow me to speak to her, threatening with leaving me if I did. This was extremely emotionally and mentally straining towards me, often leaving me debilitated.
Eventually she would tell me she did, but after I texted Han Kyul one day it would turn out she had lied about it.
In fact, Roza lied about everything. To her family, to me, to Han Kyul. She is a self-proclaimed psychopath, and a compulsive liar. This worried me tremendously at the time.
Here's a letter from Roza's mother regarding her daughter:
"I'm a psychopath"
I was vocal about having three conditions for dating her: That she went to therapy, as she would constantly treat me abusively and I didn’t know what to do about it; that she told Han Kyul about us; and, that we met first. By the time she asked me out and affirmed I was properly her girlfriend, around June, she wasn’t doing either of the two. Up to then, we had been "unofficially girlfriends".
Another moment of her disregarding my boundaries was when I tried to set my boundaries as to the nature of our relationship, a closed polyamorous relationship where she didn't share our problems with the other partner, as that could make Han Kyul spite me, and create tensions. I told her she could speak to others, friends, therapists, family, about our problems, but that I didn't feel comfortable sharing our intimacy with Han Kyul.
In response, she claimed I was somehow trying to isolate her from all her support, she told me she didn't need a therapist, and that I was being manipulative by trying to set boundaries, around what I felt comfortable with.
Another example was her idea that somehow Han Kyul, her and I would live in a house together. She kept insisting on it as a dealbreaker, however, as far as I'm aware of, Han Kyul wasn't aware of this plan. Apparently, neither Han Kyul or I had any say over the nature and future of our relationship, it was only Roza who got to decide... Weird.
I still remember the night I was being threatened with an illegal eviction. Roza had promised we would stay in touch throughout the day, as I needed her help and support with not becoming homeless. She had a date with Han Kyul but she had promised to stay on the phone and contact me if I needed it. And so, I did. I tried reaching out during my night, I needed her support, I was having a panic attack. But she wouldn't pick up. Eventually she would write to me to insult me and order me to shut up. However, after I spoke with Han Kyul later, she understood what was happening and was kind and supportive towards me. Roza on the other hand, hours later, would call me, just to coldly tell me she was thinking of breaking up with me for not respecting she didn't want to talk... Something she had said the complete opposite of hours earlier.
---
I'm also haunted by my last night with Roza. I had a panic attack. Roza had been saying she was busy with school the next day, and when her brother mentioned the next day was a festive I felt triggered by the thought Roza was going to begin to lie to me all over again. I told Roza I needed some space and had the vague thought then that, since it had been such an amazing week, that we could maybe stay together one day longer.
However, in response to me asking for space to cry, Roza began to yell at me, grabbing my stuff and throwing it violently into my suitcase and threatening to call her parents or the cops (I don't recall which) to kick me out. I was very stressed by this sudden change and I asked her if we could take a bath together. In the bath, I explained to her my fears of her lying to me again and of her leaving me for having been sad. To which Roza told me she was sorry and didn't care about my panic attack, that she loved me and wanted to stay with me.
That's when we decided to get pre-engaged, as a promise that we would care for each other. Despite this, once I got to Amsterdam, she called me for twelve minutes, and broke up with me, claiming I was at fault for having a panic attack, and blocked me everywhere.
---
Today I came across an old message from Roza which said, "do i love you? this is a good question".
Roza would use abandonment as a tool to manipulate me.
If I was annoying, she would claim to not love me which would terrify me. And once I was submissive again, having cried enough, she would tell me she loved me. Reading it again, I had a horrible panic attack. I couldn't breathe and I began to shake.
---
When she picked me up from the 12 hour flight she didn't bring me flowers, she didn't gift me anything. I brought her an expensive Miffy plushie.
---
Roza claimed to love me, but instead of using that feeling to support me, she used it to destroy me, my psyche, my relationships, my body. There is so much more that I haven’t written here. A year’s worth of manipulation and abuse. Hopefully this brief glance is enough for now. I should end this with a positive tone, but I don’t see anything positive to it. Well yes, I survived. I am glad I survived.
---
This is from the beginning of the relationship. She never stopped being condescending towards me, it just got worse.
Reading back through some of my older texts. I’m stricken by how well I write in them. I wouldn’t be able to write like that these days.
I’ve been through a lot. Because of you, I have been through a lot. I have experienced some of the most soul-crushing things because of your choices.
Because you wouldn’t treat me well. You would treat me as disposable, as if my feelings, my thoughts, were below you. And that caused me tremendous unnecessary pain. That is abuse.
Roza, you raped me. If you don’t feel comfortable approaching that reality, then I don’t know how to help you with that.
But I tried very hard to help you forgive yourself, and I hope I was successful at that. My first impulse was to try to forgive you, which I would later read is a common approach by many other victims.
I assume that, like me, those other victims found hostility instead of support.
I am appalled by your poem about how much you love women. Because you cheat on us, you groom us, you abuse us, you rape us.
You’re a misogynist, you’re a self-described psychopath and abuser. You’re not a good person Roza, even if you try very hard to hide your wrongdoings.
Things like burning a Bible, knowing perfectly one of your girlfriends is Christian and the other cares deeply about religion.
Things like yelling in public at me, making me cry. Shouting at me in the house, just because I was upset, and threatening me with kicking me out. Those things made me feel unsafe around you.
You never looked for enthusiastic consent. In fact, I don’t recall you asking me except for a few possible occasions.
You would not care that I would cry, until I yelled at you repeatedly to stop, you wouldn’t take your dick out.
And then, the rape. The night I told you NO three times and you still ignored me.
Those are choices you made that have ruined my life, my sense of safety is gone, my sleep is shattered because I have terrifying flashbacks when I sleep. I keep having these horrible panic attacks. And this constant awry feeling in my bum that makes me feel like I’m being raped by you all over again.
I lost my studies, my home, my city. I lost my health. By raping me, you made me disabled. And you know that.
You know about my C-PTSD, yet you still insisted life moved on, you knew perfectly well it only moved on for you.
The life of a rape survivor does not just “move on”. This will be with me until I die. I will probably learn to handle it better with time. But for the time being, my life is frozen because of what you did to me.
You told me, “I leave you with all the anger and sadness you feel
about me. They belong to you. They are not mine to nurse for as long
as you ache. That isn’t fair.” But that is not true, the pain I
have, it doesn’t belong to me, you imposed it on me.
You carved
it into my body, into my mind, into my soul. You built it into me,
and then you walked away. My pain is yours, Rozalia. It will always
be yours. No matter how much you try to wash your hands of it. By
oppressing me, by raping me. I didn’t ask to be raped. I didn’t want
this pain. You forced it on me.
I don’t have scars, I have gashing wounds. They bleed, metaphorically and also literally. My legs are bloody messes. I throw up whenever I eat, and whenever I think about your rape. My throat bleeds because of you.
What do I hope to accomplish by speaking out?
That when the next girl you find tells you she doesn’t want to be your mistress, and you hide from her the fact you’re keeping her a secret from everyone in your life, that she’ll know she’s not alone.
That the next teenager you groom by confessing how you’ll move continents for her, and how much you want to have her close to your chest, when you dispose of her, that she’ll know she’s not alone.
That there will never be another unfortunate girl to rape. That anyone who talks to you, will know who you are, and what you do. Not the sheened fake version of you you like to flounder around.
I hope you’ll be able to be free to live your life authentically, finally. Without having to hide who you are from those that love you most. Because it hurts to love you and for you to hide so much from them. I hope your family, your friends, your girlfriends, will know that they too, are not alone.
And, selfishly perhaps, I hope that some of those same people will reach out to me, and let me know that I am not alone. Because you made me believe, that I was all alone.
I am speaking out because silence protects abusers. Because I refuse to let Roza continue hurting others the way she hurt me.
Here’s what you can do:
- If you know Roza, cut her off. Don’t let her manipulate you the way she manipulated me. She is a dangerous person.
- If you are in activist spaces, push for her removal. She hides behind political circles and progressive causes—but she is a rapist and a groomer.
- For Torontonians at large, don't let her near children or teenagers, because she will try to groom them.
- To Klasbatalo and No War But Class War, remove her as a member and denounce her behaviour.
- And for the community, be on the look out. If you see her in spaces where she holds influence, do not stay silent. Let people know the truth. At clubs, parties, bars, if you see her, ask her to leave. Don't perpetuate rape culture.
- Share this. Spread it. Make sure no one else gets harmed by her.
- And to anyone who reads this, show your support by sharing one of the posters on your socials and tagging me or sending me a message. Your support means the world to me.
I haven't yet, but I will report her to the university, I spoke to the police.
She took so much from me, but she will not take my voice.
And
she will not do this again.
Bet you rue the day you raped a writer in the dark.
Bet you thought you could bury the truth. But I am not dirt. I am fire. And I will burn bright, I will burn your lies to the ground.
“She admitted to raping me, but then she twisted the story—acting like I was cruel for reminding her, like I was responsible for her pain. This is what abusers do: they turn the truth against you, until you start questioning reality itself.”
Roza's initial response to me telling her how she had raped me.
I somehow turned her into a worse person from across the Atlantic? No, she just chose to hurt me.
"I simply made a mistake". No, you chose to rape me. You chose to abuse me. Those aren't mistakes, they're crimes.
Gaslighting isn’t just lying—it’s reality being rewritten around you until you doubt your own mind.
Roza would tell me I wasn’t really paralyzed, that I was just upset. But I know what happened. I know what I felt. She tried to make me believe that the terror I experienced was my fault.
"The contents of this website represent my personal recollections and experiences. They are my subjective account of events and are not intended as a definitive legal or factual record. I encourage readers to understand that these are my personal memories and reflections."