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Welcome to Our Wave.

This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.

What feels like the right place to start today?
Story
From a survivor
🇮🇪

About the monster I use to date

date my own boyfriend done it to me many times , I would sleep over at his gaf and he would always make me tea from “his culture “ but hmm lookin back I would knock out right after and I had never done anything sexual before , when I was waking up in pain , bleeding , i thought there was something wrong with me and I would always be confused . Lookin back I knew what he was doing in the back of my head but I was In denial I felt bad for assuming that was happing “he doesn’t give off rapey vibes “ thats what I would think little did I know . dateof being with him he did get very mentally and phsysically abusive but things were bad at home and I thought his house was better bc “I could actually sleep “ BUT I DIDNT KNOW I WAS ONY SLEEPING BC I WAS GETTING DRUGGED . The story use to make me soooo mad but looking back i cant judge the past with what I know now . Anyways so one day in date I have some “tea” and I pass out on his couch and I wake up to him molesting me and starting to do stuff to me while I was passed out and I start freaking out and I low-key cant rember anything after that I just rember the next day i woke up in his bed he was rushing me to get ready and I was so confused and was like ??? Huh Ajd i didnt know how to process what had happened lastnight and I can’t txt my mam bc she didn’t even know where I was she didn’t know I was seeing this fella she thought I was at a friends and I thought she’d be more mad at me lyin than me gettibg raped and finally realising whag was happening , he lived in the middle of nowhere his hoise was gated no one lived there i got in the car hoping HED bring me home like he usally does but nope i was in that car he drove me for over 4 hours to theplace no stops , he took my phone , and yea I was stuck in the placewoth his , he drove to sn underground parking lot,no people , we went in an elevator , got out on theplace and I was locked in a place(no idea how he could even stay here and how he booked it ) anyways that was the worst week of my life i was gettin raped over and over again , drugged ,physically abused , for a week staright I felt like I was going insaneeee but it was weird like I was on survival mode and I tried to escape and I remeber vividly I was drugged , undone the locks , but I was fighting the drug and I got to an elevator and I was pressing the button over and over and he obviously caught up i rember backing up into a corner of the elevator and bro dead ahhh grabbed my ancle and I rember feelin ny head hit smthin bc I got pulled wi sn force abd i woke up like 24 hourssssss later the next day in bed , sooooo yea then I can’t even REMEBER how but I convince him 3 days later that I love him and I don’t mind him VIOLATING MY BODY and I would “stay wi him forever I loved him “ but yall I just wanted to get home I missed my dog , for once things at home seemed way better , I was greatful all it was I had to deal with at home were my parents arguing at night and I couldn’t sleep , yk a lot better than this shit so yea ended up getting home , still to this day my parents and family have no idea this happened , I blocked my horrible ex on everything hes gone from my life thank god , this is the first time im telling the whole story not even my councillor knows all this , but yea thats the summary , after I came back I didn’t know what to do , my friend forced me to go satu , they helped , mentally struggled for a longgggg time YHIS wss a rough journey but finally i can say it wasnt my fault screw him and no one deserves something like this to happen to them .

  • Report

  • Taking ‘time for yourself’ does not always mean spending the day at the spa. Mental health may also mean it is ok to set boundaries, to recognize your emotions, to prioritize sleep, to find peace in being still. I hope you take time for yourself today, in the way you need it most.

    Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇮🇪

    If you're reading this because something happened to you, I just want to start by saying I'm so sorry. I know how lonely it can feel. For the longest time, I genuinely thought I was the only person who felt the way I did. I kept thinking, "Why can't I just get over this?" or "Why am I still thinking about it?" I felt guilty for talking about it, guilty for not talking about it, guilty for having bad days, guilty for having good days. Trauma has a funny way of making you feel guilty for things that were never your fault. After everything happened, I didn't feel like me anymore. People would see me in college or at work and probably think I was okay. I wasn't. I'd go home and have nightmares. I'd get flashbacks that made me feel like I was right back there again. I'd freeze when people got too close to me. I felt scared in situations that had never scared me before, and I hated that because I just wanted my old life back. The worst part wasn't even the day it happened. The worst part was feeling like I'd lost myself afterwards. I kept wondering if I'd ever laugh properly again, ever trust people again, or ever stop thinking about it. Some days I honestly thought this was just who I was going to be forever. But I was wrong. Healing didn't happen overnight. It wasn't one big moment where everything suddenly got better. It was loads of tiny moments that didn't feel important at the time. Going to counselling. Letting myself cry instead of pretending I was grand. Realising that having a bad day didn't mean I was back at square one. Slowly, I started finding bits of myself again. I found comfort in making art because it let me express things I couldn't always put into words. It reminded me that there was still a part of me that trauma couldn't touch. I'm still healing, and I think that's okay. I don't think healing means forgetting. I don't think it means pretending it never happened. I think it means getting to a point where what happened is part of your story, but it isn't your whole story anymore. The reason I'm sharing this isn't because I have all the answers. I'm sharing it because, a year ago, I desperately needed someone to tell me that the way I was feeling was normal after something so traumatic. So if that's you... Please don't blame yourself. Please don't think you're "too much" because you're struggling. Please don't think you're weak because you're still affected. And please don't give up on yourself. I know it probably doesn't feel like it right now, but it does get lighter. Not all at once. Not in a straight line. But little by little. One day you'll catch yourself laughing without forcing it. One day you'll realise you went a whole afternoon without thinking about what happened. One day you'll look back and realise you've survived days you never thought you'd get through. If nobody has told you this today, I'll tell you. I'm proud of you for still being here. And if you're reading this feeling completely alone, you're not. Neither of us should ever have had to go through what happened. But neither of us has to go through healing alone.

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Losing my innocence at 12..

    Im 20 years old now but when I was 12, I was sexually Assaulted while visiting my Hometown. When I was 12, I had an odd sense of how I viewed love and attraction. For example, while visiting my hometown I often went out with a friend who knew many of the kids who also grew up there. She introduced me to a group of boys who were either family or family friends. I tried to be nice but they just kept putting their hands on me every chance they got. Even thought I knew it was wrong and felt kinda uncomfortable, I tried to like it and think maybe they think im beautiful or that im desirable. But that night one of the boys convinced me to get food with him. It was common for food stands to be in the alleys because the roads were very crowded with people. I went but there were no food stands, just a dimly lit alleyway. Before I knew it, I was pinned and he assaulted me. I felt like I left my body just trying to blank out everything. When it was done he left first and I was trying to process what happened. Prior to this, I didn’t know what sex was or even seen boys exposed. I walked out alone and saw my mom sitting with the other women there. I didn’t tell her. I never told her. I was too scared and ashamed. At one point I tried to turn it around and think maybe this was okay and Im finally a “grown up now” but no matter what, I kept coming back to how I just froze, I didn’t like it and it wasn’t okay. I tried to tell my mom when I turned 18 but i didn’t tell her the full truth. I just told her about the groping to see what she would say or think. She got upset and said “Don’t let boys do that or they’ll think you’re easy.” That really shattered me so I didn’t end up telling her the rest. I’ve pretty much kept it to myself for about 8 years now. And recently, I learned that he died in a motorcycle accident while on his way to work. He got hit by a truck. When my family heard, they were sad for him and his family. I wasn’t angry at them, they didn’t know. And i felt pretty conflicted because I wouldn’t wish this on anyone but I still couldn’t get over what happened. I just want to move on and maybe gather the courage to share this with my family someday. If not, im glad I shared it here. This is the first time I heard about this movement and my first time sharing it. Im glad I finally let it out.

  • Report

  • “You are not broken; you are not disgusting or unworthy; you are not unlovable; you are wonderful, strong, and worthy.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Major Sexual Harassment

    It started as sexual harassment. And I let it happen. Do not let it happen to you! I was a college intern working on my supply-chain management major. In business school you know you don’t just get a degree and POOF! A job is magically waiting for you. Unless you already have connections. I was a single woman on financial aid and had squat for family connections. I needed to make some connections while still in school that I could use to climb the ladder. It is a very competitive world. A time when we don’t care so much where we work as long as it has prospects of advancement and making money. I was interning at the corporate offices for a rental car company. I got my first choice for a class in which we had to intern at a real company. My group of four was in their logistics offices and we had no clear job at the time but my school had sent students for a while so we had a contact person and some loose idea of a project that my group of four had to put together and execute for our grade. Well that was kind of of dud and I went along with the bad idea of planning more efficient distribution routes for their cars entering the fleet. It was naive because the company had real pros who designed the system. But, because of my feminine wiles, I got invited to come in and help in my free time by a top manager. Just me. I jumped at the opportunity and on my available days I showed up early in the morning and tried to be like part of the team. It was a very masculine environment. I tried to hang in spite of the pretenses for my special treatment. “You’re not one of those feminist types who go crying to HR if a man gives you a compliment or a pat on the backside, are you?” The man who first invited me had asked. We’ll call him XX. I assured him I was not, anticipating his expected answer. “Work hard, play hard,” was something I said in my denial of values he was obviously opposed to. So the couple times XX introduced me as his mistress I went along with the joke. Another stupid mistake. As an example of my environment, after a male Y in the department first showed me how to use part of a program that calculates stock outages, he had me sit and try it and gave me a massage I did not ask for early in the morning. Well XX came up and made a joke about Y getting his hands of his girl. They had some bro moment where the male Y asked him if he was serious, saying something about XX’s wife, to which XX backed down and said something like “It’s just a joke. I’d love to in my fantasies, but she’s company property, brother.” Company property??! I was sitting right there! I tensed up but tried to pretend I was so absorbed in the computer training as XX left and male Y went back to massaging me, but this time more boldly. He got down my lower back and upper buttock then went down the arms to my thighs, stopping me from doing any work as he blatantly brushed his forearms and hands against my chest. I felt so weak and almost paralyzed by the time I forced myself to stand up to go use the restroom, stopping it. I could have just done that at the beginning but did not. Later hat same day, XX had me go to lunch with him and have a beer at a bar and grill with a pool table. I was 20 but they did not ask for my ID because I was with XX. I hardly ever played pool and while we waited for our food he “showed” me how to play. He made fun of the cliché on movies and television where a man has a woman bend over the pool table to shoot just so he can push his crotch against her backside in a suggestive manger and lean over her with his arms on each side of her to show her how to slide the stick. But while he joked about it he actually did those things to me! That was a good day for my two main molesters and an awful day for me. XX hugged me as we stood up giggling and apparently his hands now had a license to molest my body whenever he wanted. I got numb to it in some ways, but emotionally more on edge. My butt was grabbed or spanked playfully in the department, even by male Y. A few other men were very flirtatious. My shoulders were rubbed, hugs on even minor greetings with XX and finally I was supposed to get used to little pecks on the lips too. I felt like I was in a constant state of mental anguish and defensiveness. My body could be attacked anytime. But I did not defend myself! I would say clearly to XX and some others that I wanted to be respected and considered one of the guys and have a job there when I graduated and they affirmed it. Both main abusers encouraged me, but still sexually harassed me. With my moronic blessing! The semester ended and I kept going in daily during summer break. It was my only lifeline to a possible job after I graduated in a year. I was so groomed that it was not a big leap at all when XX pressured me to give him head in his office. I refused with a smile and head shake and he came back with some rationalization about how I owed him and he really needed it just then. He would not take no for an answer. The first time I lowered myself to kneeling before his desk and took him in my mouth my hands were shaking and I teared up and had to sniffle snot back up. I was the one who was embarrassed! It was like an out of body experience and my mouth dried up to where I had to ask him to drink some of his energy drink. Internally there was a huge change immediately. I was gutted of all pride and self-worth. I was like a zombie. Hardly eating. Lots of coffee. Showing up and doing the reports that had become my responsibility and mechanically giving XX his daily BJ in the afternoon in his small stale office with a small window. I started to have migraines during that summer. I drove home for 4th of July and got so inebriated I ended up sleeping with my much older sister’s ex-husband in the back of his truck. That was a terrible wake up call. I knew I couldn’t pretend much longer without a breakdown so I put my two week in at the rental car place where I was working for free. To secure my future I made sure to keep it all friendly and “you know I’ll be back working here next year”. The idea of all the time and humiliation I had put in being lost to nothing was a major fear. I put myself through two last weeks of it. I had quickie sex with XX twice on and over his desk. I gave into extreme pressure and gave male Y a BJ too when he explicitly made it about a letter of recommendation. He knew about me doing it for XX. He did not even have his own office and we had to use the stairwell. During my final year of school I became aware that I was too traumatized to ever go back there anyway. The extent to which I had been used and abused became obvious to me, where before it had not. As if I had been living in a denial haze. It was a painful time. I was a bit reckless. I got a C in the high level economics elective I took. I said yes to several dates to avoid being alone and either slept with them or freaked out in anger at them. Seeing that I needed the car rental faux-internship on my resume I did email both abusers for letters of recommendation and got a good one from Male Y, but a very impersonal, generic one from XX. I was so dejected and angry. Finally, I told my sister, the one who confronted me about her ex-husband. I TOLD HER EVERYTHING AND THAT WAS MY FIRST STEP TO RECOVERY. To letting out the pain, screaming at myself in the mirror, punching the heavy bag at a boxing gym I joined, and to seeing my first psychologist and psychiatrist. The therapy helped more than the Celexa and antipsych. The support group helped even more. I met two friends for life who have my back in times of sorrow. I have to repeat that it is not my fault that I was abused, even though it kind of was. Don’t let it happen to you! They will take as much as they can from you. Plan your boundaries now and be assertive! Report harassment immediately. Doing so you are being a hero and protecting other women and yourself. If you have already been abused, GET OUT of the situation and talk to someone about it ASAP. There is nothing to be gained by letting the abuse continue! Talking to someone makes it real and lets you start the process of hating less and starting on the path to learning to love yourself again. You deserve real love.

  • Report

  • Welcome to Our Wave.

    This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.

    What feels like the right place to start today?
    Story
    From a survivor
    🇮🇪

    About the monster I use to date

    date my own boyfriend done it to me many times , I would sleep over at his gaf and he would always make me tea from “his culture “ but hmm lookin back I would knock out right after and I had never done anything sexual before , when I was waking up in pain , bleeding , i thought there was something wrong with me and I would always be confused . Lookin back I knew what he was doing in the back of my head but I was In denial I felt bad for assuming that was happing “he doesn’t give off rapey vibes “ thats what I would think little did I know . dateof being with him he did get very mentally and phsysically abusive but things were bad at home and I thought his house was better bc “I could actually sleep “ BUT I DIDNT KNOW I WAS ONY SLEEPING BC I WAS GETTING DRUGGED . The story use to make me soooo mad but looking back i cant judge the past with what I know now . Anyways so one day in date I have some “tea” and I pass out on his couch and I wake up to him molesting me and starting to do stuff to me while I was passed out and I start freaking out and I low-key cant rember anything after that I just rember the next day i woke up in his bed he was rushing me to get ready and I was so confused and was like ??? Huh Ajd i didnt know how to process what had happened lastnight and I can’t txt my mam bc she didn’t even know where I was she didn’t know I was seeing this fella she thought I was at a friends and I thought she’d be more mad at me lyin than me gettibg raped and finally realising whag was happening , he lived in the middle of nowhere his hoise was gated no one lived there i got in the car hoping HED bring me home like he usally does but nope i was in that car he drove me for over 4 hours to theplace no stops , he took my phone , and yea I was stuck in the placewoth his , he drove to sn underground parking lot,no people , we went in an elevator , got out on theplace and I was locked in a place(no idea how he could even stay here and how he booked it ) anyways that was the worst week of my life i was gettin raped over and over again , drugged ,physically abused , for a week staright I felt like I was going insaneeee but it was weird like I was on survival mode and I tried to escape and I remeber vividly I was drugged , undone the locks , but I was fighting the drug and I got to an elevator and I was pressing the button over and over and he obviously caught up i rember backing up into a corner of the elevator and bro dead ahhh grabbed my ancle and I rember feelin ny head hit smthin bc I got pulled wi sn force abd i woke up like 24 hourssssss later the next day in bed , sooooo yea then I can’t even REMEBER how but I convince him 3 days later that I love him and I don’t mind him VIOLATING MY BODY and I would “stay wi him forever I loved him “ but yall I just wanted to get home I missed my dog , for once things at home seemed way better , I was greatful all it was I had to deal with at home were my parents arguing at night and I couldn’t sleep , yk a lot better than this shit so yea ended up getting home , still to this day my parents and family have no idea this happened , I blocked my horrible ex on everything hes gone from my life thank god , this is the first time im telling the whole story not even my councillor knows all this , but yea thats the summary , after I came back I didn’t know what to do , my friend forced me to go satu , they helped , mentally struggled for a longgggg time YHIS wss a rough journey but finally i can say it wasnt my fault screw him and no one deserves something like this to happen to them .

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Losing my innocence at 12..

    Im 20 years old now but when I was 12, I was sexually Assaulted while visiting my Hometown. When I was 12, I had an odd sense of how I viewed love and attraction. For example, while visiting my hometown I often went out with a friend who knew many of the kids who also grew up there. She introduced me to a group of boys who were either family or family friends. I tried to be nice but they just kept putting their hands on me every chance they got. Even thought I knew it was wrong and felt kinda uncomfortable, I tried to like it and think maybe they think im beautiful or that im desirable. But that night one of the boys convinced me to get food with him. It was common for food stands to be in the alleys because the roads were very crowded with people. I went but there were no food stands, just a dimly lit alleyway. Before I knew it, I was pinned and he assaulted me. I felt like I left my body just trying to blank out everything. When it was done he left first and I was trying to process what happened. Prior to this, I didn’t know what sex was or even seen boys exposed. I walked out alone and saw my mom sitting with the other women there. I didn’t tell her. I never told her. I was too scared and ashamed. At one point I tried to turn it around and think maybe this was okay and Im finally a “grown up now” but no matter what, I kept coming back to how I just froze, I didn’t like it and it wasn’t okay. I tried to tell my mom when I turned 18 but i didn’t tell her the full truth. I just told her about the groping to see what she would say or think. She got upset and said “Don’t let boys do that or they’ll think you’re easy.” That really shattered me so I didn’t end up telling her the rest. I’ve pretty much kept it to myself for about 8 years now. And recently, I learned that he died in a motorcycle accident while on his way to work. He got hit by a truck. When my family heard, they were sad for him and his family. I wasn’t angry at them, they didn’t know. And i felt pretty conflicted because I wouldn’t wish this on anyone but I still couldn’t get over what happened. I just want to move on and maybe gather the courage to share this with my family someday. If not, im glad I shared it here. This is the first time I heard about this movement and my first time sharing it. Im glad I finally let it out.

  • Report

  • Taking ‘time for yourself’ does not always mean spending the day at the spa. Mental health may also mean it is ok to set boundaries, to recognize your emotions, to prioritize sleep, to find peace in being still. I hope you take time for yourself today, in the way you need it most.

    “You are not broken; you are not disgusting or unworthy; you are not unlovable; you are wonderful, strong, and worthy.”

    Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇮🇪

    If you're reading this because something happened to you, I just want to start by saying I'm so sorry. I know how lonely it can feel. For the longest time, I genuinely thought I was the only person who felt the way I did. I kept thinking, "Why can't I just get over this?" or "Why am I still thinking about it?" I felt guilty for talking about it, guilty for not talking about it, guilty for having bad days, guilty for having good days. Trauma has a funny way of making you feel guilty for things that were never your fault. After everything happened, I didn't feel like me anymore. People would see me in college or at work and probably think I was okay. I wasn't. I'd go home and have nightmares. I'd get flashbacks that made me feel like I was right back there again. I'd freeze when people got too close to me. I felt scared in situations that had never scared me before, and I hated that because I just wanted my old life back. The worst part wasn't even the day it happened. The worst part was feeling like I'd lost myself afterwards. I kept wondering if I'd ever laugh properly again, ever trust people again, or ever stop thinking about it. Some days I honestly thought this was just who I was going to be forever. But I was wrong. Healing didn't happen overnight. It wasn't one big moment where everything suddenly got better. It was loads of tiny moments that didn't feel important at the time. Going to counselling. Letting myself cry instead of pretending I was grand. Realising that having a bad day didn't mean I was back at square one. Slowly, I started finding bits of myself again. I found comfort in making art because it let me express things I couldn't always put into words. It reminded me that there was still a part of me that trauma couldn't touch. I'm still healing, and I think that's okay. I don't think healing means forgetting. I don't think it means pretending it never happened. I think it means getting to a point where what happened is part of your story, but it isn't your whole story anymore. The reason I'm sharing this isn't because I have all the answers. I'm sharing it because, a year ago, I desperately needed someone to tell me that the way I was feeling was normal after something so traumatic. So if that's you... Please don't blame yourself. Please don't think you're "too much" because you're struggling. Please don't think you're weak because you're still affected. And please don't give up on yourself. I know it probably doesn't feel like it right now, but it does get lighter. Not all at once. Not in a straight line. But little by little. One day you'll catch yourself laughing without forcing it. One day you'll realise you went a whole afternoon without thinking about what happened. One day you'll look back and realise you've survived days you never thought you'd get through. If nobody has told you this today, I'll tell you. I'm proud of you for still being here. And if you're reading this feeling completely alone, you're not. Neither of us should ever have had to go through what happened. But neither of us has to go through healing alone.

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Major Sexual Harassment

    It started as sexual harassment. And I let it happen. Do not let it happen to you! I was a college intern working on my supply-chain management major. In business school you know you don’t just get a degree and POOF! A job is magically waiting for you. Unless you already have connections. I was a single woman on financial aid and had squat for family connections. I needed to make some connections while still in school that I could use to climb the ladder. It is a very competitive world. A time when we don’t care so much where we work as long as it has prospects of advancement and making money. I was interning at the corporate offices for a rental car company. I got my first choice for a class in which we had to intern at a real company. My group of four was in their logistics offices and we had no clear job at the time but my school had sent students for a while so we had a contact person and some loose idea of a project that my group of four had to put together and execute for our grade. Well that was kind of of dud and I went along with the bad idea of planning more efficient distribution routes for their cars entering the fleet. It was naive because the company had real pros who designed the system. But, because of my feminine wiles, I got invited to come in and help in my free time by a top manager. Just me. I jumped at the opportunity and on my available days I showed up early in the morning and tried to be like part of the team. It was a very masculine environment. I tried to hang in spite of the pretenses for my special treatment. “You’re not one of those feminist types who go crying to HR if a man gives you a compliment or a pat on the backside, are you?” The man who first invited me had asked. We’ll call him XX. I assured him I was not, anticipating his expected answer. “Work hard, play hard,” was something I said in my denial of values he was obviously opposed to. So the couple times XX introduced me as his mistress I went along with the joke. Another stupid mistake. As an example of my environment, after a male Y in the department first showed me how to use part of a program that calculates stock outages, he had me sit and try it and gave me a massage I did not ask for early in the morning. Well XX came up and made a joke about Y getting his hands of his girl. They had some bro moment where the male Y asked him if he was serious, saying something about XX’s wife, to which XX backed down and said something like “It’s just a joke. I’d love to in my fantasies, but she’s company property, brother.” Company property??! I was sitting right there! I tensed up but tried to pretend I was so absorbed in the computer training as XX left and male Y went back to massaging me, but this time more boldly. He got down my lower back and upper buttock then went down the arms to my thighs, stopping me from doing any work as he blatantly brushed his forearms and hands against my chest. I felt so weak and almost paralyzed by the time I forced myself to stand up to go use the restroom, stopping it. I could have just done that at the beginning but did not. Later hat same day, XX had me go to lunch with him and have a beer at a bar and grill with a pool table. I was 20 but they did not ask for my ID because I was with XX. I hardly ever played pool and while we waited for our food he “showed” me how to play. He made fun of the cliché on movies and television where a man has a woman bend over the pool table to shoot just so he can push his crotch against her backside in a suggestive manger and lean over her with his arms on each side of her to show her how to slide the stick. But while he joked about it he actually did those things to me! That was a good day for my two main molesters and an awful day for me. XX hugged me as we stood up giggling and apparently his hands now had a license to molest my body whenever he wanted. I got numb to it in some ways, but emotionally more on edge. My butt was grabbed or spanked playfully in the department, even by male Y. A few other men were very flirtatious. My shoulders were rubbed, hugs on even minor greetings with XX and finally I was supposed to get used to little pecks on the lips too. I felt like I was in a constant state of mental anguish and defensiveness. My body could be attacked anytime. But I did not defend myself! I would say clearly to XX and some others that I wanted to be respected and considered one of the guys and have a job there when I graduated and they affirmed it. Both main abusers encouraged me, but still sexually harassed me. With my moronic blessing! The semester ended and I kept going in daily during summer break. It was my only lifeline to a possible job after I graduated in a year. I was so groomed that it was not a big leap at all when XX pressured me to give him head in his office. I refused with a smile and head shake and he came back with some rationalization about how I owed him and he really needed it just then. He would not take no for an answer. The first time I lowered myself to kneeling before his desk and took him in my mouth my hands were shaking and I teared up and had to sniffle snot back up. I was the one who was embarrassed! It was like an out of body experience and my mouth dried up to where I had to ask him to drink some of his energy drink. Internally there was a huge change immediately. I was gutted of all pride and self-worth. I was like a zombie. Hardly eating. Lots of coffee. Showing up and doing the reports that had become my responsibility and mechanically giving XX his daily BJ in the afternoon in his small stale office with a small window. I started to have migraines during that summer. I drove home for 4th of July and got so inebriated I ended up sleeping with my much older sister’s ex-husband in the back of his truck. That was a terrible wake up call. I knew I couldn’t pretend much longer without a breakdown so I put my two week in at the rental car place where I was working for free. To secure my future I made sure to keep it all friendly and “you know I’ll be back working here next year”. The idea of all the time and humiliation I had put in being lost to nothing was a major fear. I put myself through two last weeks of it. I had quickie sex with XX twice on and over his desk. I gave into extreme pressure and gave male Y a BJ too when he explicitly made it about a letter of recommendation. He knew about me doing it for XX. He did not even have his own office and we had to use the stairwell. During my final year of school I became aware that I was too traumatized to ever go back there anyway. The extent to which I had been used and abused became obvious to me, where before it had not. As if I had been living in a denial haze. It was a painful time. I was a bit reckless. I got a C in the high level economics elective I took. I said yes to several dates to avoid being alone and either slept with them or freaked out in anger at them. Seeing that I needed the car rental faux-internship on my resume I did email both abusers for letters of recommendation and got a good one from Male Y, but a very impersonal, generic one from XX. I was so dejected and angry. Finally, I told my sister, the one who confronted me about her ex-husband. I TOLD HER EVERYTHING AND THAT WAS MY FIRST STEP TO RECOVERY. To letting out the pain, screaming at myself in the mirror, punching the heavy bag at a boxing gym I joined, and to seeing my first psychologist and psychiatrist. The therapy helped more than the Celexa and antipsych. The support group helped even more. I met two friends for life who have my back in times of sorrow. I have to repeat that it is not my fault that I was abused, even though it kind of was. Don’t let it happen to you! They will take as much as they can from you. Plan your boundaries now and be assertive! Report harassment immediately. Doing so you are being a hero and protecting other women and yourself. If you have already been abused, GET OUT of the situation and talk to someone about it ASAP. There is nothing to be gained by letting the abuse continue! Talking to someone makes it real and lets you start the process of hating less and starting on the path to learning to love yourself again. You deserve real love.

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    Grounding activity

    Find a comfortable place to sit. Gently close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths - in through your nose (count to 3), out through your mouth (count of 3). Now open your eyes and look around you. Name the following out loud:

    5 – things you can see (you can look within the room and out of the window)

    4 – things you can feel (what is in front of you that you can touch?)

    3 – things you can hear

    2 – things you can smell

    1 – thing you like about yourself.

    Take a deep breath to end.

    From where you are sitting, look around for things that have a texture or are nice or interesting to look at.

    Hold an object in your hand and bring your full focus to it. Look at where shadows fall on parts of it or maybe where there are shapes that form within the object. Feel how heavy or light it is in your hand and what the surface texture feels like under your fingers (This can also be done with a pet if you have one).

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Ask yourself the following questions and answer them out loud:

    1. Where am I?

    2. What day of the week is today?

    3. What is today’s date?

    4. What is the current month?

    5. What is the current year?

    6. How old am I?

    7. What season is it?

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Put your right hand palm down on your left shoulder. Put your left hand palm down on your right shoulder. Choose a sentence that will strengthen you. For example: “I am powerful.” Say the sentence out loud first and pat your right hand on your left shoulder, then your left hand on your right shoulder.

    Alternate the patting. Do ten pats altogether, five on each side, each time repeating your sentences aloud.

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Cross your arms in front of you and draw them towards your chest. With your right hand, hold your left upper arm. With your left hand, hold your right upper arm. Squeeze gently, and pull your arms inwards. Hold the squeeze for a little while, finding the right amount of squeeze for you in this moment. Hold the tension and release. Then squeeze for a little while again and release. Stay like that for a moment.

    Take a deep breath to end.