Shannon Sharpe Rape Allegations
“This story is based on real events, but for dramatic purposes, names, characters and incidents have been altered or combined.”
Jade sat curled on her couch, scrolling through social media as the aroma of her freshly made latte filled the room. Her new espresso machine had become her favorite weekend indulgence. It was the perfect Saturday morning, sunlight warmed the room, and the soft hum of peace made it hard to imagine going anywhere.
She casually flicked through TikToks and Instagram posts, smiling at memes and food reels, until one headline jolted her to attention:
“Shannon Sharpe Accused of Rape by 19-Year-Old Girlfriend.”
Another Black man caught up in scandal.
Curious, she tapped the post and started scrolling through the comments.
The responses were polarizing. Some women criticized the age gap, questioning why a man his age was dating a teenager. Others dismissed it entirely: “She’s legal,” “Why wait to come forward?” or “They’re just trying to bring down another successful Black man.” Many advised Black women to “stay out of it,” calling it a distraction.
Jade remembered interviews where Shannon admitted he preferred young white women. That never bothered her too much. People like who they like, but men who chased women with “teen” in their age always made her skin crawl.
She thought to herself, If the legal age were twelve, half these men would be defending it like it was gospel.
Then her thoughts shifted to the girl. She suddenly, felt uncomfortable. Nineteen. Just barely out of girlhood. Jade didn’t have to imagine what that felt like.
Because a decade ago, she was that girl.
Ten Years Earlier
Jade was a college student scraping by, working nights at a popular restaurant downtown. Her parents weren’t much help financially, but she was proud of her independence. Despite the grind, she liked her job. The tips were decent. Tourists usually tipped well and she found pride in the hustle.
Dating, however, was a mess. Like many 20-somethings, she navigated a sea of emotional immaturity and half-commitments. Older friends would tell her, “Get you an older man! They’re stable, mature, know how to treat a woman.”
Her manager at work, a man in his fifties, smooth, confident, always well-groomed, started flirting. He was charming in a fatherly, grounded way. Tall, dark, and aging well, he exuded the type of calm presence she was told to look for.
Eventually, he asked her out. She hesitated at first, but curiosity and that nagging advice about older men won her over.
They had dinner a few times. He even cooked for her after they became more comfortable with each other. He always paid. He was never pushy. So when he invited her to stay the night after one of their dinners, she said yes.
That evening, they climbed into bed. Jade flipped her pillow to the cool side and asked casually, “Aren’t you gonna put on your CPAP?” She knew from past naps he snored badly.
“I don’t need it tonight,” he replied.
He rolled toward her, kissing her bare shoulder. Jade smiled faintly but said, “We’ve got an early morning, let’s try to get some rest.”
He ignored her. “Turn over,” he muttered.
She didn’t move.
Then suddenly, forcefully, he grabbed her and pushed her over. Before she could process what was happening, she felt him fumbling in the dark.
Then, sharp, unbearable pain up her ass. A violent intrusion.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP! STOP!” she screamed, trying to push him off, grabbing the headboard for leverage. He held her down and kept going.
Tears streamed from her eyes as she screamed again. Would the neighbors hear her? Would anyone help? Would he stop?
Her body went limp. Her mind detached. She floated above the room, watching herself from outside, watching her body get violated.
“Am I being raped?”
“Oh my God… I’m being raped.”
The pain was distant now, her mind retreating into shock. He was inside her, and she was somewhere else.
When it was over, she ran to the bathroom, locked the door, and collapsed onto the floor sobbing. Blood trickled down her thigh. She sat on the toilet, wincing from the pain, wiping gently, trembling.
Looking in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. A girl wrapped in a towel, hollow-eyed and shaking.
What do I do now?
How do I leave?
Will he hurt me again?
She wrapped the towel tighter, tiptoed back into the room. “Why are you being so dramatic?” he barked. “Come back to bed.”
She said nothing. She grabbed her bag, dressed in the bathroom, and left.
Outside, in her car, she sobbed into the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed—he was calling. She answered.
“YOU RAPED ME!” she screamed. “I SHOULD GO TO THE POLICE!”
But she didn’t.
She quit her job and never reported the crime. The thought of telling anyone made her feel exposed and helpless. Who would believe her? A 20-year-old woman dating a man in his fifties. People would say she was asking for it. Maybe even her friends.
So she kept it to herself.
Years Later
Jade would eventually tell her story to other women. Some survivors, some still unsure about their own past. She learned she wasn’t alone. That trauma silences, shames, and paralyzes.
She had been raped. At 20. By a man more than twice her age.
People always say, “Just report it.” But they don’t understand the fear, the humiliation, the despair. It’s not that simple.
Conclusion
Maybe Shannon Sharpe didn’t do what he’s being accused of. Jade couldn’t say for sure.
But she knew exactly what it felt like to be the girl in that headline. She knew what it felt like to scream, and have no one hear you. To walk away with nothing. No justice. No apology. No safety.
If the allegations were true, she hoped those women took everything he had. Because most women walk away with shattered bodies and silence.
If you or someone you know is a survivor of sexual violence, you are not alone. Contact RAINN for confidential support at 800-656-HOPE (4673).
