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I was used by my brother who has grown up a lot but I still carry scars. My brother is four years older than me and when I was going from elementary school to Junior high, that summer, he made me think that girls in junior high need to know how to give oral to boys. First he did oral to me to show me it was not a big deal. I thought it was a huge deal. But I did it and he got me trained and had me keep it a secret, except from by best friend. He had his friend over when I had a sleepover one night and had her do it to his friend. Then they would have us do contests where they wear blindfolds. At least I was not alone then. It changed me even though seventh grade itself had nothing to do with anything like that. It was a lie to get pleasure from me. My brother still had me doing it at home. And sometimes he would do it to me and I did climax. So I had this weird secret sex life and felt really messed up about it. Then in eight grade I had my first real boyfriend. My parents are so strict, even though they both worked and left me alone with my brother. To go to the movies with my boyfriend they made sure it was with a group and took me there and waited outside the theater. Well one time when we went to see Snow White and the Huntsman my same BFF and me went through with our plan to go down on our guys in the last row of the theater and we did it. It was only a month later I started having sex with him which never would have happened if not for what my brother had done. We snuck out from her place during a sleepover and met the boys outside and went to the nearby park and did it in the grass. That was my virginity. The really bad event, where my life got knocked off the tracks, is when we tried it from my house, sneaking out the window and going just out farther into my big back yard that opened into nothing but the side of a big hill and my dad caught us. It was awful. The world ended. I was treated like a huge betrayer and almost all my privileges were revoked and essentially I was grounded without any end date. And still by brother would make me do the oral. I was broken hearted because I was not allowed to have my boyfriend to the point my parents made me go to the school and talk to the principal and vice principal and they made sure I would not have any chance to ever see him alone. And my brother kept creeping in at night sometimes or when we were left alone expecting me to do what he had trained me to be used to. The next really bad part was two months into my new restricted life. My brother started doing his oral on me one afternoon after school and decided to take it farther and got up and started kissing me and had sex with me. I was in the moment and did not do anything to stop him and even participated. No condom. It was an afternoon when my parents were away and so we did not have to keep quiet or worry and he did it so much longer than my few times with my boyfriend, because he was older and knew more from being with other girls that I got sore for my first time and got a urine infection. I did not eat my dinner that night and pretended to be sick and cried myself to sleep. My brother really wanted to do it again, telling me it was the best sex he ever had, but I refused and one thing I could say for him back then was at least he was not a rapist. Even though he pressured me he never tried to force himself inside me. Four months after I had lost my incest virginity the school year ended and he graduated. I went to high school and he moved out to live in college dorms 120 miles from our home town. Public school was over for me, as was planned as soon as my dad caught me on the hill. I went to an all girl’s Catholic high school. My dad had to drive me a half hour every morning and my mom picked me up from my whole first year. Then they got me a car so I could drive myself but the mileage and my times were closely monitored. I did not have an intercourse throughout high school but seven times total I did oral on my brother during summer and winter breaks when we were both at home. That was the end of incest in my life. I went to college in Atlanta but not the same one as my brother. I rebelled against my parents and even though they tried to keep control, as a legal adult I did not let them. Turmoil and sadness lasted months until they finally got it. I separated from them financial and worked and took out student loans. I was very promiscuous in college. I drank, partied and used drugs recreationally and had several guys I was seeing on and off for mostly sex. That was my life and I thought I enjoyed it at the time. I became stronger and more assertive and when my brother first hinted during a Thanksgiving meeting at our relative’s house that we go for a drive I told him I never wanted to touch him again in such a powerful way that he knew I was off limits and even seemed like the scared one in our relationship. I didn’t enroll in classes for two nonconsecutive semester just because my party life was so much more fun. I traveled on and off. Sometimes with friends, sometimes with men, usually older, who invited me to exotic places. The Maldives, Portugal, The Virgin Islands. I let my married boss use me for a weekend in Key West. I had an affair with my Spanish teacher, who only took me as far as Panama City, Florida. So many risky one night stands. My identity was that I was not looking for anything permanent, a child of the universe. While I was used as a plaything so many times and believed I liked the game. I would tell them things about wanting to make their dick happy and stuff that would inflate their ego. I’m sure there are so many text messages out there that they saved about the size of their D fitting in my little P, about being a little girl wanting them to teach me to be woman and other depraved fantasies I thought they wanted to hear. Obviously directly related to what my brother did to me. I am almost positive I avoided being raped more than once by going with the flow when I did not expect to or probably want to. It may be good that some of them I probably don’t remember. Once was at one of the few fraternity parties I ever went to. It was three guys, not my usual style. Once was with my roommate's father who was visiting her at our rented house and found his way to my bed in the early morning. One of the more extreme traumatic events was with a police officer who pulled me over for driving when I had been drinking but was under the legal limit on his breathalyzer. He followed me home, like a mile away, “for my safety” and even followed me inside. I was in an apartment then and I thought my roomate was home and told him so. But when she wasn’t there he said I lied to a police officer and he had to do a more thorough search if I wanted to avoid being arrested. He was not attractive or nice. He had a gun thought he never took it out. You can guess what happened. I finally shed that wild life during my second to last semester when I saw the end of college coming. My G.P.A was 3.3. and my major was philosophy and it dawned on me that the future was not bright in terms of what I would do or how I would pay back my loans. I buckled down and decided to change. I had an offer to strip and ‘make a lot of money’ but thankfully not only did never considered myself like that, but when I went with a friend for her interview and they tried to recruit me they were so sleazy we both ran out of there disgusted. I reevaluated my whole life. I considered ending it, but some survival mechanism did not allow it. I did not want to be the person I had been for a few years. I looked ahead and saw it was not sustainable as I aged and had no real love or stability. I quit serving when I got an offer to work in a legal office. I slept with the manager who hired me as a receptionist but it was a drop in the bucket of things to be shameful of. He was the last one like that. I got all A’s and graduated cum laude. I got promoted in the firm mostly by title but used it to spring away and take a lower paying job in a nonprofit law firm where I had not slept with anyone. There I did sleep with a lawyer but I am married to him still and my life is back together. I love him and he loves me. He does not know the extent of my sluttiness in college or about my brother and I doubt he ever will. That darkness is fading and it is not part of my life now. It is not who I am. As for my brother, he has a family now and we are on good terms. We did talk about it once while I was studying like crazy my senior year, although it was not a big deep talk. I did mention that he used me, he apologized, we hugged, and that was it. Not the cathartic confrontation some might expect. My catharsis is my husband, and my life now that I am grateful for. We adopted two toddler brothers and I am their mom. Maybe we’ll have one of our own. Maybe we’ll adopt again. I was used and introduced to sex too young and early and it strained my relationship with my parents for a long time and I’ll never get that back. It derailed my life. I was set adrift for a while but God or the universe or random luck finally put me in a good place. Everything that happened led me what I have now. I can’t say I never contemplated suicide in darker times. But like in the move Cast Away, if I may quote, “I stayed alive. I kept breathing. And one day my logic was proven all wrong because the tide came in, and gave me a sail. And now, here I am.” Thousands of hours spent studying philosophy and I quote a movie that was not even based on a book. But it’s perfect.

I’m sharing here because I hope I can reach out to other women who may have gone through marital rape or may still be going through it and I want you to know you are not alone. For years I felt as if I was asleep as I couldn’t face up to what was happening to me, why I was losing weight and why I so depressed. I minimised everything, even to him. I would try and make him feel better afterwards. Most of the time it was as simple as me saying no to sex and him doing it anyway while I was completely disconnected, and it was so often, I would lie there and wait til he was done most of the time, but each thing built up to him pushing the boundaries further, sometimes when we were out in public, always after I went out with my friends, it was part of the deal. I always told myself he’d be in better form if I just went along with it. He was always so stressed and so angry. And I loved him and sometimes I enjoyed sex with him. It made things very confusing in my head. And I was eating barely anything, which he encouraged, he was constantly buying me exercise equipment and sexy outfits. I kept getting sick, I was tired and low all the time. My family and friends were saying I wasn’t myself. There were 3 incidents that I play over and over in my head that I couldn’t minimise (although I tried). And they led to me telling him our marriage was over. That was a year ago. I thought it might help me to write one of them down and maybe someone will identify with me and it might help them. It was at his best friends wedding and as usual, he wanted us to do something exciting sexually. So we went to the men’s toilets. We were kissing and we started to have sex. I was quite drunk. All of a sudden he turned me around and bent me over the toilet, my hands on the window sill. I started to say no. It came out in what sounded like a little girls voice. I don’t know why I remember that so well. I don’t know why I didn’t shout. He raped me anally in the men’s cubicle and I was crying looking at a dirty window sill and I could hear strange men outside commenting. Afterwards I kept asking why did you do that, I didn’t want that, it hurt me, you were too rough, I said no. But he he didn’t want to talk about it. He left me sitting with one of his male friends that I didn’t know to go outside with his best friend and have cigars. He saw I was in pain and bleeding for days after. I stayed with him for years after that. Other things happened after that too. I ended up feeling like his stress ball, a rag doll, good for nothing else. I was with him since I was 18 years old and we have children together. He was all I knew. He was my husband and I loved him. No one knew what was happening. Everyone thought we were a couple in love. It wasn’t until I told him I couldn’t share a bed with him anymore and I was starting ti have panic attacks that we went to a marriage counsellor and it all came out. I woke up. It was her face. Her reaction. I felt so stupid and embarrassed. And he tried to explain it away to her shouting at her that he was a man. I was sitting there thinking how did I let this happen to me? I always saw myself as quite a strong, intelligent, bubbly person. I’m in my 40s, I should know better. I was looking at the counsellors face and it somehow didn’t feel as if it was happening. I realised I was shaking and she was worried about me and he was shouting at her. I felt so embarrassed and helpless. And stupid in front of another grown woman. I was thinking what if this was someone I loved telling me this happened to them? But still in my head I kept thinking its not really rape because he was my husband, and I loved him and so many times I wanted to have sex with him so how could it be rape. But why did he want to hurt me? I kept thinking this couldn’t be happening to me. Anyway thanks for reading. I hope it helps someone. I feel it helped me to write it down.

I was between 3 and 4 (which I know because of the dress I was wearing and the fact I wasn’t in school yet). He was my dad’s friend and I liked him a lot, and I thought we were cool. He was staying in our guest room and he was with us for about a week. One night, I ended up downstairs in the guest room (I can’t remember how) and the rest from there is blank. Next thing I can remember is him touching me, he was molesting me. A lot is a blur, but I can remember him touching my private parts while muttering some stuff, stuff that still haunts my mind. I can’t even hear someone tell their dog that she’s “a good girl” without my stomach twisting and me becoming physically sick. I remember him on top of me. I can remember the feeling of him kissing my neck and feeling my head banging, almost like a migraine, because of the pain rushing to my head. I remember him humping me while I worried someone was going to find out, because even though I didn’t know what was happening, I knew it was wrong. I remember staying quiet, with only occasional whimpers of pain, because I was hurting and afraid. I blocked that experience out for years until the memories started to resurface when I was 12. I always knew something happened, but could never put my finger on it. I was extremely hyper sexual as a child and knew too much about sex, and I always wanted to attention of older men. However, the moment I stopped digging into my hyper sexuality is the moment the memories flushed in. I would cry at night, praying to God to help me. I wanted to throw my brain across the room. Yet, despite these emotions, I doubted myself and my memory. So, I continued to keep quiet and let out occasional small cries, just like I did when I was that 3/4 year-old girl. Two years after finding out about my abuse, my own brother began to abuse me, only I had already knew he had done it previously. My brother and I used to be best friends, but there were moments that got inappropriate, starting when I was around 8. I never initiated anything, but at the same time, I didn’t used to see a problem with it. Which I still slightly hate myself for, even though I know it wasn’t my fault. I can still vividly remember the time he pinned me down and closed the bedroom door. I remember saying, “what are you doing? Open the door, you know we aren’t allowed to close it.” He came right back and hovered over me. My memory is blurry, so I can’t remember where he touched me, or even if he did, but I know he had intended to do something if he didn’t already do it. However, it was when my older sister busted into the room and yelled, “what are you doing?!”. I remember my brother looking horrified while I, being naive and not understanding the severity of the situation, said in the happiest voice “we were playing and pinned me down”. I thought we were playing, but my sister’s tone when telling my brother to unpin me told me otherwise. The abuse started back up when I was 14 and continued until right before my 17th birthday. This time he was more subtle. He would expose himself and do everything in his power to get me to look. I caught him in my room standing over me while he thought I was asleep, only leaving once he realized I was awake. Then it escalated to physical contact, but still doing it subtly. He started rubbing up against me, first time in front of my mom. My other and I were talking about food, and he came up and rubbed up on me. I was very uncomfortable and froze, and what did my mother do? Change the subject. She changed the subject and pretended that nothing happened. I believe this is why he kept going because he realized he could do it in front of people and get away with it. So for 2 and a 1/2 years straight, he exposed his backside and rubbed up against me. I remember the first time I realized that I was being sexually abused by my brother, and I cried. It was in the midnight hours when I wept, begging for it to stop. It would stop for a short period of time, but then he would do it again. Remembering my past sexual assault and trying to process that while also being abused by my brother was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced. I used to have terrible nightmares which would end up with me waking up gasping for air. But I’m still fighting and still surviving. I’m finally accepting that I’m a survivor. At 19, I am a survivor of Childhood Sexual Abuse and Incest.

Sexual assault is a spectrum. I think as young women we laugh off so much - bring catcalled from 12 or 13, being groped in clubs, mocked for pushing a guy off who won’t keep his hands of you. I’m so glad there is this space to share our stories <3

At the age of 7, I was sexually abused by my school bus driver on my way home from school. As I grew older, I realized that I didn't remember most of the things correctly, and even forgot some parts. I didn't get psychological support from a professional and I grew up as a child who was very sensitive to physical touch. I had thoughts of self-harm many times when I was younger, but I never could. I'm now 19 years old and traveling the world while studying abroad. I love myself, my friends and my family. As someone who grew up thinking that I was never fully understood, I would like to remind you that you are not alone and that this life is worth living by finding the good in you, no matter how much negative trauma you have experienced. Whoever reads this has clicked on this page for a reason, first of all, love yourself and remember that I am always there for you.

this is a form of poetry, it may be disturbing. Make sure you are mentally stable, you matter :) I’m the Gun Kisser. I hold the gun Never on safety. They hear it blast, still I’m unaware Of the smoking gun in my hand. Tears roll down, but I only see the stains. Guilt of fault. But it could’ve happened in another term, he should’ve killed me when he was given the chance. They tell me to safeguard it, not to wield the weapon in the open. But the stranger ‘big boy’ never did that for me, why should I? And when he was gone, he left a jagged puncture in my chest, Leading onto my eyes and lips, it paints my face with shocking joy, while all they see is a pale ghost. They lost me long ago, yet never want to accept that the little girl they fight for everyday is long gone, rotted under the court files that weren’t solved in time. She bled out on a mattress on the floor, buried under bare monsters with unphased eyes. But yet she swore to mama that the ‘big boy’ only kissed her on the cheek. I laugh, I joke, I make them feel better, I repeat my mistakes, I give them embracing love. But yet before bed, I kiss my own gun, lingering gunpowder reminding me of who he made me. The next rising sun is blinding enough to get me walking with my eyes shut. The truth is: I never healed. The wound won’t vanish just yet. Nor will the bandages yield my gushing fear of men. So, I resolved my struggles: Let the gun romance me. No one else will love my gun For how deep the bullet will pierce through more than your heart, It would be nowhere near romantic.

My story automatically elicits a response of doubt and ridicule simply because it occurred in a medical setting. I underwent a surgical procedure at a university hospital to fix a blown out vein around my ankle. The surgeon told me she would be making incisions around my knee. I was shocked, horrified, and deeply disturbed when I learned the next day that my pubic hair was shaved right up to my penis on the side and base. I later learned that the resident had removed the disposable underwear staff gave me and clipped my hair while a nurse then cleansed the area while I was sedated. I was never advised these intimate tasks would be performed or I would not have consented to this procedure. Apparently, everybody knew I was going to be prepped from the navel down except me. I was told this is standard for my procedure. So why wasn't I told? The staff had plenty of time and means to explain the prep process to me. Yet, they did not. And I think they should be held accountable. But everywhere I turn, I get turned away. I am dismayed that law enforcement is more apt to protect the medical community instead of innocent patients who only want help with physical issues in a respectful and dignified manner. I was deceived into believing my bodily privacy would be protected. I feel absolutely violated because I was. I am demonstrating signs of PTSD. I can't sleep at night. I have stomach problems. I do all that I can to avoid seeing nurses out and about. I even changed my route to work to avoid seeing a billboard advertising a local hospital. I have a hard time showering sometimes. And I have been having male intimacy problems that are not corrected through medication. With the help of my wife, I filed multiple complaints with the Office of Sexual Misconduct (department with the Title IX Office) at the university where this happened as well as with campus police, the state board of medicine, and other organizations. I was basically told that I should have expected visual and physical intimate access simply because it occurred in a medical context and that I implied consent to be prepped like this. This is unreasonable because I could only consent to be prepped for the procedure as it was explained to me, and that was with incisions around my knee. The cop even chided me for not taking responsibility for my own health care. I did all the research I could and asked all the questions I could think of. No way I could have ever discovered that they were going to violate me like that. I did not want to be exposed to complete strangers of the opposite sex, much less touched by them. I don't care if they are "professionals" or were not motivated by sexual gratification. Medical staff should not force intimate experiences on patients unless it is to save their life in that instant. The emotional trauma I am experiencing is no different than what a rape victim deals with. The psyche does not differentiate between whether the violation occurs in a private residence by a criminal or in a medical setting by a doctor or nurse. The harm is the same. To make matters worse, my wife also had a similar experience decades ago when she was a little girl from which she also suffers PTSD. My experience triggered her. We are not doing well as individuals or as a newly married couple. Hospitals should be safe places where patients seek healing without fear of assault on their personal dignity, bodily sanctity, autonomy, and humanity. But that is not the case for many patients who discover the hard way that many hospitals do not honor their own patient bill of rights mandating that patients be treated with dignity. Stripping a patient naked without his or her knowledge or expressed consent is violating the patient’s right to bodily autonomy and humanity. Patients merely have a right to know that intimate exposure and contact will occur, especially when they are in a vulnerable state from anesthesia. Some patients do not believe mere claims of “professionalism” are an adequate reason to surrender their bodily autonomy and sanctity without being allowed to explore options to avoid such an experience. Many hospitals have created an intimidating and unwelcoming environment for modest individuals and vulnerable members of society such as sexual assault victims who are hyper protective of their bodily privacy and sanctity. Advocacy groups have not taken our stories seriously. Yet, there are countless others from across the country who are suffering from negligent and careless medical personnel who do not respect a patient's right to bodily sanctity and autonomy. I am hoping these advocacy groups can help to get laws passed protecting patients from unwanted, non-consensual intimate procedures and tasks performed on them. It is encouraging to see an increasing number of states passing laws banning non-consensual pelvic exams. But this protection needs to be extended to all patients for all elective medical procedures. If interested, you can follow my blog in which I document my journey to seek accountability at link

Last year, a very close friend realized they were in an abusive relationship -- something I had known for a long time. While it was mostly verbal and psychological abuse, it did get physical at the end. That was the catalyst my friend needed -- especially because they were holding their young child at the time (the abuser is not the child's biological parent). Having been in and around this space for a long time, I can tell you firsthand, it is very difficult to stand by and watch someone get hurt time after time. It is also difficult to let them make their own decisions once they get out of the relationship -- decisions which may be counter to what YOU want them to do. But this last piece is really important. It is critical to allow someone who has spent in this case several years without agency, to take it back and make their own decisions.

At 18 i was kicked out of my parents house for ‘smoking weed and being lazy’ i had depression and only hung out with my 2 guy best friends who also smoked weed and made me feel so comfortable and we were all best friends. when i was kicked out i went to stay with one of the guys and he said the rent was super cheap and mostly let me live for free. he charged me rent of $150 but wasn’t really required. this is when i started doing the wrong things in my life, i went in sugar dating sites and would meet up with older men and they would pick me up and we would have quick sex for around $250-300 i did this because i was young and stupid and had no support from my family at that age i was unaware of the effect it would later have on my life. i continued to do this occasionally for shopping and to just not be broke. this is the part of my story that seemed easy not too traumatic very innocent as this had not really traumatized me so much. i then met this man that told me he would give me everything and i ran away with him only to be left with no one i left the city he took me too where he had unwanted sex with me and went back to my home town where i ended up being homeless. i was 19 and decided i couldn’t live like this so i got hotel rooms and had men come in and out all day to get enough money for an apartment i finally found one $450 in the grossest part of the city with 3 obnoxious roommates. 1 year later and the apartment is infested with roaches i still had 2 men that i called ‘sugar daddies’ that would help me with a little money in exchange for sex, i felt violated but not to the point where i was super traumatized by them. after the bug infestation got so horrible it was causing health problems i had to find another sugar daddy to help me buy a cleaner home so i did he offered me $600 a month and also got me car and a nice luxury apartment which i live in. he became very obsessed with me and and controlling he even hit me when i said i didn’t want to have sex with him. looking back now he was grooming me he said he wanted to help me but he was raping me and real help would have been him giving me these things to help me get on my feet without sex. i met him 8 months ago and feel that he was the first abuser i had he would follow me at night i would see his car at 4 am while driving around and no one else was around he would comment on my body and weight i was so scared. i’m tired of being used by men they all said you wanted it you asked for it how could i not your beautiful yet they judge my arms and thighs and say i’ve gained weight like i’m some kind of play toy im disgusted. i found a job working at subway and was looking for a roommate to help pay some of the rent when I met this man my coworker who offered to move in he said that he would need a few nights there for free and I agreed it was Halloween just a few weeks ago and I was drinking and I said it would be fine if we went to the lake all I remember is getting out of his car and going to sit near the lake and I don’t remember walking back to his car or walking up to my apartment the next thing I know it’s two in the morning and his penis is in my butt and I say can you please get out of my room and he said I thought you were my baby mama this man is clearly insane so I called the police and they make me go get a rape kit done and I go in for an interview and I get all my phone data dropped to into their system and I get told he has no chance little to no chance of being put in jail. I feel more raped by these sugar daddies than I do anything I have been prostituting myself but not only that these men have been taking advantage of my situation grooming me and exploiting me for everyone that might be a sugar baby out there please do not do this these men are corrupt and they are psychologically not right in the head I’m still healing and this is going to be a very hard long journey for me but I’m thankful that it was only three years that I have been having to live like this I’m heartbroken like my body is numb and my head is just scattered everywhere and I feel like I’ve just been beaten I have no friends my family told me it’s my fault I’m only 21 years old I tried to go to college this semester but failed almost all of my classes because my sugar daddy was so obsessive and possessive of me he wouldn’t let me do anything I’m scared for my mental health. Sex is so sacred and when that is taken away from you without permission even if you don’t say no even if it’s just coherent even if it’s not a yes if it’s just silence it’s still rape I did not want to do these things with these men but I had to not live on the street I’m scared for my future because I don’t know if I’m ever going to heal so young to be going through this I’ve slept with maybe 30 men by now all because i had to I know I’m disgusted with myself and the world I feel like I could never live normally again I feel stuck. I want to be enjoying my youth and if I do have sex to have sex with somebody that’s my age which is fun and innocent I’ve been taken advantage of by 60-year-old man that are psychopaths please do not get involved with anyone that claims to be a sugar daddy they are not right. why do men feel so compulsive towards women why do they feel that they need to use us as they do why do they feel they need to be so disrespectful I can’t imagine doing things to anyone the way that I have been treated by males especially older ones it’s harassment sexual harassment is abuse mentally and physically it’s scary I don’t know where the hell from here I don’t have anyone to trust all I know is that I just got abused for the past three years sexually as such a young age I think the hardest part going forward is that I still feel physically in my in my vagina area that something is not right I still feel like there’s still negative energy in there I feel like it’s just lingering there like reminding me that I was raped and I just pray to God that this goes away my mind heals and pray that I can love again pray that I never meet another toxic man in my life I’m praying that I will forget all this paid

We danced at a bar, I wasn't sure about him but I gave him my number. After the bar I was at a friends party and he asked me where I was; I told him that I wouldn't say but if he found me I would dance with him. He came and danced for a bit, I was drinking and when he pulled me upstairs from the basement where the party was I thought he wanted to chat away from the music. Until he pulled me outside into the snow. I didnt have my shoes and I was cold so when he directed me to the car I got in to at least relieve my cold feet. He started driving and I told him I didn't want to do anything with him, I was tired and wanted to go home. He said I could stay over and it would be fine. I believed him and I went in his room. When he started kissing me I went along with it thinking of course it's expected I at least do that. But as things progressed I told him I just wanted to sleep. He is a proffesional body builder and athlete so when he pinned me down fighting was useless. He raped me anally first and my screams were so loud I thought that his neighbors in the duplex must hear but I also knew they were fellow basketball players at the university and boys will be boys. After that I just stayed limp as he continued using my body, even at one point giving himself a hand job, my hand nothing but a sock or something to wrap around. I had to beg him for a ride home after because I couldnt walk, my phone was dead and I didn't want to call anyone even if it wasn't. I didn't want to have to explain why I was there or what happened. Even through the echos of my screams and after the blood that wouldn't stop, I could hear the blame, that I went along with all these things leading up to it, what did I think would happen? The next time I saw him was at a smaller get-together for a birthday, no one knew what happened to me, I had not told my friends yett. When he came over I was literally in a corner. He introduced himself to all my friends, and then introduced himself to me. As if he had no idea who I was. As if he was not too drunk that night to drive but was too drunk to remember what he did to me.

Growing up i was playing toys with my nephew 3 and little sister 6 and cousins 9-10 me 9 we all thought touching each other’s privates was okay and it was normalized we all did it i was playing house as a kid so were they me and my older cousin was molested by my brother and forced to do things we thought it was normal so we continued it for years i said something 5th grade and he said i was lying so year went by and me and my nephew and little sister i was 11 he was 6 My little sister was 8 I thought it was normal i had no experience in sex life or anything like that besides a guy trying to make me do stuff to him we were the same age. When i was 13 covid happened school was shut down and never learned about sex ed or anything like that also there was a 23 year old touching me and wrapping his body around me growing i never got the guidance or anything as a pre teen and so didnt any of my siblings or nephew so for a while i thouGht everything about the was normal so when i was 14-15 i was engaging with the inappropriate activities bc i thought it was normal and when i was in elementary my nephew had performed “oral” on me and I wasn’t a fan and I didn’t do it bc i didn’t want to and I didn’t even want him to lick my area he asked and that’s something that grossed me out now thinking of this but me and my little sister did a lot growing up like i gave her oral she never did for me i was a pre teen at the time and we was all exposed to porn growing up on tv and tablets so like wasnt great at home but we never had sex growing up despite are body parts wasn’t developed enough to even do that so we would hump eachother with and without clothes and now when i was 15 starting high school i stop contributing in the nasty stuff we were doing and I remember since we were all exposed to porn we used to use stuff like we are stuck or wrestling just nasty now i feel horrible like I committed a crime I stopped it i became very depressed and hyper sexual and alot of time people would say at 14-15 you know better and I genuinely am grossed out with myself because why didn’t i and now its been 5 years and i hate stuff like that and i get emotional asf now because i feel like I failed every kid who was in the house tht was involved including me i feel like it my fault and I deserve to die and i dont wanna kms bc I don’t want them to think thats the only way they can move on from it and you know i never did that stuff to hurt anyone i just did it i thought it was normal i got over it when i was 15 like i try not to think about it and not blame myself but it genuinely hard bc i was older I should’ve knew better and i talked to my siblings and nephew and they told me that we all thought it was normal and its not my fault and I shouldnt be so hard on myself bc parents should’ve said something and we all hugged each other and we all are close And I’m just scared I traumatized them because what happened or im and abuser or criminal I genuinely love them never meant any type of harm.

This is something about a few years ago, I was groomed by someone on Twitch. I found an Italian twitch streamer who seemed pretty nice. He played game name, which was a game I had also been playing for a while. I started chatting with the others in the chat, including the streamer, and I was generally having a good time with them. After the stream, I joined their discord server and began talking to them. The streamer also greeted me and then added me on discord. We started chatting in private, and he seemed pretty nice. I was 13 and he was 17 going 18 at the time. After a bit of talking, he asked me if I could ERP with him, and I agreed for some reason. Unfortunately, it became an habit for him to ERP with me. He would even want to ERP while I was crying and ranting to him, which was absolutely horrible (This is because it was a period when I was extremely depressed and fragile). He had a girlfriend, which was also disgusting, and she didn't really care about what he was doing with me. Once, he literally sent me a picture of his butt while he was in a skirt, even if I had asked him not to (he was doing an Astolfo cosplay). The people in his discord server soon became very toxic, as they all began hating me at some point, plus they encouraged his behavior with me. One time, he sent me a screenshot of his chat with his girlfriend where he asked her if she wanted to have a threesome with me and him (they were both 18 at this point, and I was 14). We also met up at Comicon, where I fortunately went to with my brother and his ex-girlfriend. Sometimes I feel like that if my brother wasn't there, he would've done something to me. I recently talked to him again, and fortunately I was the only one who he did this to. I still feel very alone, tho. I can't tell anyone about this because I lost all the chats with him, I have no proof to backup my words anymore. I can't even go to the police because it's something that happened too far back.

Me and My Shadow I was in the shadows but safe until you appeared. The shadows held me as I blended into life. But you brought a false sense of security and belonging by weaving lies. Lies, which without closer examination portrayed a caring man, a picture everyone saw. Lies which threatened my freedom, my career, my safety, my health, my confidence, my friendships. More lost than gained, More damaged than healed Timed journeys, timed grocery shopping, fecking timed everything. Control, control over who visited, control over shopping, fecking control over everything. You were the fecking Timing Controller of my life. Controlling to much, pushing me until my confidence was stilted and decisions were beyond my reach. So much for my high heels and power suit of management, they sure as hell weren't built to protect from rape and domestic violence. The suit was a challenge for you to bring me lower, so low I hardly recognised myself, so low I suicided, so low I thought I couldn't go any lower but yet I'd never go as low as you. My head space began to throw tantrums, not allowing you to live rent free. Thoughts of safety, freedom, family, friends filled it. Night turned to dawn as I made a call, a one sided call to Women's Aid. Each silent call gave me courage to step out of the darkness. Stepping up to the lights of help, hope, reality and clarity. Times even still I'm a shadow of my former self but I'm never stepping lower to believe: lies are love, isolation is closeness, a wallop or push was done in jest. Rape is love making. Domestic violence is abuse of one person by another person and rape is the unwanted invasion of a person by another person. Standing no longer in the shadows, Standing in the sunshine making harmless shadows, hurting nobody, loving life. Loving life without you.

i want justin baldoni to know how proud dv people are of him. i can tell how much he cares and this movie he made has impacted him. my father is a very verbal and physical abuser and my mom left after 20 years and im forever grateful and im so glad they made this movie. thank you justin.

i was around 4 or 5 i think and my cousin brother 6 or 7 he used to tell me he loved me alot and wanted to be with me forever and he told me he had only one of showing me he loved me and told me to lift my shirt up he hid me in a corner of the room made me lay down and started licking my stomach i felt very disgusted so i pushed him away and left after that i dont know if i told anyone or not but for the next 10 years he continued to mentally and physically harass me with sexual stuff showing me and talking to me about pron and positions forcing to use some trick on me if i didnt comply to his demands and also sometimes all of a sudden touching me very inappropriately out of nowhere now we're 17 and 18 and for the past 2 years he has one nothing like that ever since he got a girlfriend but i remember him mumbling something about me being one of his ex girlfreinds as if that could ever have been true its been quite long ofcourse now but it still disturbs me alot sometimes and our families are not on good terms with eachother due the some other reason i dont know what to do

I am in very toxic relationship for 5 years where my boyfriend always treat me as slave andshout at me compare me with other girls body shamming demotivate me disrespect me don’t share anything don’t call me txt me.. he always ask for space and all.. if anything happen he blocked me.. from everywhere ..any occasion don’t matter to him not my birthday or anniversary if I wanted to meet he always deny and shouted at me hurt me with his harsh words He didn’t add me on fb or insta or any social media .. but he is added with some of my beautyfull girls .. Probably cheat on me also He hide the relationship to everyone So I decided to treat him silently if I cant bear this any more I will leave him Day one I told him I am feeling down so I need the night to stay calm He response very rudely (valo thakte valo lage na ja birohe thak pore amk kisu bolte ashbi na ) I don’t want to stay good so I do this shit eventually ..so say nothing to him I just did my own stuff be alone for a while going to hospital with ammu didn’t share anything with him at night he asked what happened I said nothing he said ( na bolle nai eto tel marte parbo na ) I don’t want to pamper u He was staying online till 3/ 4 am … idk what he do Day 2 He greet morning I also greet morning normal conversation And again I took my self out for dance cls gone to hhospital with ammu and had amazing riksha ride and talked a lot about stuff… After comeback to home I asked him what he wanted me to wear for shoot he showed me some pictures and blauses there also he told me (tmr moto nongra meye ami jibone dekhi nai jama kapor guchano na kno jama kapor nai fokinni er moto thako)I dirty.. I don’t know how to look goodhe never saw girl like me I am a road side stupid …I ignored as I wanted still I showed him saree and blauses and he choice 5 from them so he decided to meet at 9 am morning and asked me to awake himupp at8.30 Again he was online 3/4 am in insta fb whatsaap Day 3 He asked me to meet for saree shoot and meet me at 9 .. so got up early and called him to awak up.. he said he is already aweakn … So I got my self ready and 9.44 he said he will be out in5 mins so I already got my self out at 10 but he didn’t got out … so I reached there and he didn’t come… I waited for 2 hours and then he came at12.15.. he came but he didn’t say sorry for make me wait for 2 hours .. ulta amk bole ami kno age ber holam natok kore ore na bole ….on the other hand he says why did u got out so early did u tell me? Why um doing all this drama ? Then we pictures of mine and his as well .. Aftr the day he asked me to seat with him so I say u said u wanted to save yourself for your wife and this is the thing um also doing.. And I showed him that he is been online at4 am but he lied and didn’t aggred so I show himthe ss but still he lied over my face .. Then he asked me for my p .. and he blackmailed me immotionally and I was stupid again I gave him that …. He talked some emotional things about future and his plan of getting marry with me have a house of our own and all…. But some how I don’t belive those things its make me feel like this all are fake I cant trust him at all somehow I feel like he is with me bcz of this busess and money.. he don’t love me at all…

It was something and it mattered. I wish someone had said that to me back then in fall of 2015. Don't let anybody including yourself tell you it doesn't matter and that your experience should not be heard, because it does and it should. I was in psychotherapy at the time, but while it helped me unfreeze from the stasis and lack of verbal expression I had been enduring during my youth and young adulthood, sadly it did not prevent this abuse nor help me know what to do about it and how to react to it. Other events of non-consensual restraining of me, touching of me, wolfish glances and comments occurred. But this was maybe the most memorable one. From throughout my teenage years all the way to well into adulthood, there were events and encounters that unsettled me, often with people I did not or barely knew. The first time I was sexually harassed I was a child, maybe 8 to 9 years old, then a young teenager, between 14 and 16 years old. At both ages the perpetrators were men older than me. A young man from my neighbourhood once when I was a child. I did not think anything of it back then and it was more him giving me attention in a physical way than it was sexual, but as an adult I now know it was wrong. A complete stranger passing me by on a busy city street in broad daylight maybe 5 to 10 years older than me when I was a young teen walking alone, to whom I did not feel any attraction or hold sexual thoughts about because of the age difference. Looking back I feel that man robbed me of my teenage innocence with his wolfish reaction to seeing me by making me see adult men as sexual beings who would show misplaced interest in me and by making this seem acceptable and normal. Then also as a teen a restaurant owner at least twice or thrice my age whom I was a customer to and I did not know, despite my being in the company of a male friend of mine also several years older than me, who frankly did quite the same, with the difference of knowing me personally. This older friend even started making jokes about strangers who were undressing me with their eyes in the city streets or supermarkets during the day, he was drawing my attention to something I started to notice at this time and was trying to ignore whenever I could, proof that it was not conceived as a problem by my friend, and that I did not speak up for myself against these intruders including my friend. Maybe what our children should be taught is this: How do I react and make it clear to my surrounding that I am being approached in a way that makes me uncomfortable? What do I do when someone transgresses my physical integrity and autonomy? Fast forward. I was in a verbal fight late in the evening, had been in it repeatedly over the past months. The relationship was a bad one. I was angry, I kicked an empty plastic trash can against him. He was big, heavy. And he was a lot older than me. He was my boyfriend, or so I called him. But really the relationship was poison. My already bad confidence had deteriorated to a level I wouldn't have thought possible beforehand. I saw something break in him, something in his facial expression that snapped. Then he was on top of me. I got pushed down heavily against the kitchen wall and floor, a heavy weight on top of my shoulders and chest. My neck was choked by two massive hands. He was heavy. I was shocked. I thought he had finally snapped and this was finally the end. I thought I would die. I remember screaming as loud as I could because I hoped the neighbours would hear me scream, but I didn't think they would. They were too far away. This choking and pushing down lasted for what seemed an eternity. Somehow he let me go or lost his grip on me, I got up and ran away. He grabbed me to hold me back, my head got slammed against the edge of a hallway door frame in doing so. My metal glasses frame bent. He looked at me in shock because my shirt was full of blood. My blood. This was my opportunity to run upstairs to the safety of the lockable bedroom and lock the door behind me. I was alive. My mind was occupied both with my safety and perversely also with him not being prosecuted. I made sure he wasn't. I was too enmeshed with him, too emotionally dependant, to call the police, but also too confused to talk about what had happened to the police. I was scared, isolated, alone and unconfident and I wanted it to go back to the way it was before this incident. And so it did. There were the same amount of fights as before, just not physical ones, we made sure of that. For a few months, until we finally broke up. Later I became aware he was an undiagnosed narcissist. I struggled for years after this.

i was 6 years old when my bsf held me down in the bathroom at school and 3 people raped me and it kept happening till i was 10 yet it was still happening by one of girls till i was 13. i’ve never spoken up about it before but it happened everywhere i went they would find me and rape me i see them every once and a while in my neighbourhood but they haven’t raped me since then and i am now 18

As a child i suffered sexual abuse by the neighbor next door. Also through school was bullied , teased , . My Parents were christians . But both were controling of my decisions . It was very difficult growing up as a child , teen and then youth. I eventualy had the confidence to leave home and live on my own .