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I was a 7 year old girl with a lot of confidence, maybe that's why or just luck happened but the truth doesn't matter in this story, I grew up with only cousins and vafones brothers in a very close family, everyone knew everything it's quite surprising that they didn't know until I spoke what happened, during a vacation I don't remember the year or the place but I do remember that I was playing a hulk play 2 game, it was very late like 4 or 5 in the morning and my cousin was taking care of me he was older than 10 years old and he told me to sit on his lap, I remember how he took the game controller from me and then everything is confusing I don't remember anything until the following year, I matured quickly everyone said it was because I was an intelligent and agile girl, I was the next time that cousin tried to put a hand on me when I was 8 almost 9 I broke his nose.

I was SA when I was 10 years old approximately, and my cousin 13 approximately (he is 3 years older than me). My depression start at that age approximately too, so know that im thinking about it that was maybe the reason. This week i told my mom about it, im 18, so my trauma happen 8 years later, i feel guilty because she want to talk with my family, not all, but yes some people of my family about what happen, i dont want ruin his life, even if he ruin mine, if he get some consequences i will feel guilty because this happen 8 years ago. My mom dont understand why i worry so much about it, i dont understand eather. I know that maybe he was conscious about that what he do was SA, because he was 13 approximately, not 7, not 8, not 9, not even 10. He meet his girlfriend when she was 17 and he was 19, and sometimes is a asshole, but i cant stop feeling guilty about it, even when i dont understand, because no one give me sexual education at 10, and im autistic, and when i was a kid it was more dificult undertand things. Sorry for my broken english, English is not my first language, i just want know why is not my fault, because its feel like it is.

I don't know in which moment started. It was my father. I was a child. I was the favorite one between all of our brother and sisters. It was always subtle. The contact when I lay down on his bed, the slaps on the butt, or the comments that "you are so pretty that if I were your age and you weren't my daughter I would be with you.", added to the touch when I climbed onto his legs. It took me many years to understand that this, added to the fact that he did not see me as a normal father sees a daughter, hurt me tremendously. I felt like a trophy, like an extension of his body. I discovered that all this was abuse more than a year and a half ago. When I realized it in therapy I cried a lot. I felt very guilty about what happened, and even to this day I question whether I am not inventing everything, since everything is plausible and existed in reality, I just didn't want to see it as abuse. My older brother also abused my sisters and me, however, I have never been able to tell my family about my father. Seeing the pain they have felt with the news about my brother (relieved by one of my sisters), I see that it would only generate inconvenience and pain in my family. And being pragmatic, I couldn't achieve anything by revealing the news to my family other than complications. I know that if my sisters knew, they would want to talk to my father, and my father knowing would be able to stop paying my and my younger sister's alimony. And considering we're in college, it's something I can't afford. But I'm not going to lie, I feel disgusted every time I talk to him, I wish i would never have to talk to him.

I don't know if what my brother did to me can be classified as sexual abuse. I was staying over at his house. It was late at night, and we were watching a movie. At some point, he asked if he could initiate some cuddling. I actually agreed, since we are really close and both enjoy physical affection. While we were spooning, he snuck his hand under my shirt. He didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything. As the night went on, he alternated between different caresses, kisses on my head or the side of my face, and words of affection. I idly stroked his arm back because I felt awkward just lying there. He eventually asked "is this okay?" in reference to his hand inching up my stomach. I was giving him the benefit of the doubt and still thought the action was platonic, plus it felt nice, plus I am a timid person and have a hard time with confrontation, so my brain thinks saying "no" to people is provoking them, so I said "yes". I didn't really want to say it I, though. I don't think I wanted to say "no", wither. I don't think I wanted to say anything at all. I was tired. We both were. His caresses smoothly progressed to the point he was caressing the underside of my breasts. That's when I started really questioning his intentions. He asked "is this okay?" again. I said "yes" again. When the movie ended, I got scared. I had been using it to distract myself from what was happening, and I was afraid that now that there was no distraction, he would shift his whole attention to me and try to initiate something; so I sat up. He lightly squeezed the underside of my breast as I did so, maybe on purpose, or maybe as a reflex. When he realized I was genuinely pulling away, he took back his hands, said: "I'm sorry. Your brother's a creep", and got up to take a shower. I think that's the moment I started freaking out. It's what confirmed my suspicions that his touches really had sexual intent behind them. I had been trying to gaslight myself into believing they were innocent affection, but those words were forcing me to face the reality of my situation. I remember running my mouth non-stop about random topics when we were having breakfast because I was afraid he was going to bring up what just happened and would want to have a conversation about it. I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to pretend it never happened. I still try to. But it haunts me. He and his wife (who had been sleeping peacefully in their bedroom through the whole night) left early in the morning for their honeymoon (I was there to house-sit, and had come the night before to hang out with them before they left). Once I was alone, I quietly went to their bed to sleep (with their permission and insistance, since there were no other beds in the apartment). As I tried to fall asleep, I still could feel his hands on me, like a phantom touch. I broke down right there. I felt guilty, and disgusting, for not having stopped it and for having enjoyed it too. I felt like maybe I was the creep, and maybe I was the one turning this interaction into something inappropriate. The following weeks, I tried to suppress my feelings. Some days before Christmas, I was on a plane with my mother, about to start our holiday vacation. I was close to my period and my breasts felt sensitive. That triggered something in me and I suddenly teared up right there, in public. That vague ache reminded me of the feeling of that one squeeze he gave to my breast. My mother noticed me about to cry, but I lied and said that's just because I'm close to my period and feeling gloomy (I had been struggling with depression for a while, which she knew.) During the trip, I would get random flashbacks to that night, sometimes even accompanied with feelings of nausea. I felt like I was making my brain overreact somehow, since I hadn't been raped and I shouldn't be traumatized for touching that can barely even be considered intimate. When we got back home, I did something I'm not sure whether I regret it: I talked to him about it. I sent him a long text (he lives in another city, which actually made me feel safer about confronting him) which I barely remember anything about, except that it mentioned "that night" and how I had been upset by it. I broke down while typing it, and it probably wasn't very coherent. My brother sent me many short replies in quick bursts when he saw it. He apologized profusely. He said "I don't know what's wrong with me", "I'll get psychological help", alongside many things I don't remember. That had me freaking out a bit. What did he need psychological help for? Was he admitting he's got urges he can't control? But I didn't say anything related to that. I was afraid of accusing him, and I made sure to clarify I was also to blame for not setting down any boundaries. We were both replying to each other without thinking. We were panicking, and full of adrenaline. I was scared of losing him. He was the only connection I had in the city we both lived in (very far from our hometown, where our parents and my friends all live). I didn't want to upset him, because he's a very sensitive person and I already felt guilty for how I was reacting to it. We somewhat resolved the issue over text. Except we didn't. At all. I pretended we did, but I was still plagued by doubts and paranoia. More than the touching, what haunted me were his words: "I'm sorry. Your brother's a creep." They shook me to my core. All I had wanted was to be in denial about what happened, but those words wouldn't let me. The story goes on to this day, but I don't want to write too much about the aftermath of "that night", since I'd be writing for too long and I want to focus on whether it was an instance of abuse. At this point, I feel a little more grounded and able to accept that what happened had sexual undertones. I am still full of shame and guilt. I did consent to some of the touching. I'm not certain I wanted to, but it is something I did. That would usually make me think this is a consensual encounter and that I simply regret it now, but there are many factors that also contribute to my belief that this could potentially be an instance of abuse too. First of all, my brother was 38 at the time. I was 20, which yes, is an adult, but still; he is my much older brother. He was already nearly an adult by the time I was born. He's been a figure of authority my whole life, even though he likes to pretend he's not. He's a little clueless when it comes to what's appropriate or not in social contexts, but I do think someone his age should know better than to sneak his hand under his little sister's shirt and go up her body so much his fingers actually brush against her areola. Secondly, I am neurodivergent, though I hadn't told him at the time. However, when I did tell him, he said he already had suspicions. Regardless of that, I've always been quiet and withdrawn, so it upsets that he initiated touching under the guise of innocent affection and then expected me to be able to express my discomfort when it escalated without him specifying it was going to. I don't think his form of seeking consent was productive at all either. He only asked me if two specific touches were okay, and only after starting to do them. He didn't ask for explicit permission for anything but the cuddling at the start. What I want to say is that I was vulnerable. I am young, inexperienced, autistic, and he has always been an emotional support and almost parental figure to me. I don't know how he can be so naive as to think he doesn't have any power over me. Maybe he does know that, but wasn't thinking at the time. I still don't get why he would touch me like that. I find a little solace in thinking that maybe I didn't have any control over it after all. But I don't know. Maybe I did. I am an adult after all. And I do believe he would have stopped if I had told him to. But I definitely never gave any enthusiastic consent. I feel betrayed. I feel lost. I feel angry. I feel sad. I've been avoiding thinking about it for months. Tonight, it all came back to me once more and I broke down again. I truly don't know what to do. I don't want to tell anyone close to me what happened because I am ashamed. I certainly don't want to tell my parents. I kind of want to cut ties with him, but at the same time I don't because I truly believe he is remorseful about it and I don't want to make him sad. I can't help being naive. I don't know if that's comforting, or embarrassing.

I was with my ex and I had just started some new tablets that made me sleepy. I tell my ex that I’m going to sleep and he continues to play his video game. I wake in a daze around an hour later and he is raping me and enjoying it. I react by making noises out of fear and wait for him to finish up the act , I just froze in fear. Once it was over I was mad he never got consent but he told me that he thought I wanted it. It’s been nearly a year and I’m still not over it

I was in an abusive relationship for 12 years. I met him when I was fourteen and we came together when I was fifteen. He was nice and lovely and I fell in love with him. I never thought that he could have a dark side. After a few month I began to realize, that there is something inside him. When we had our first fight, he screamed with me and I had so much fear. He apologized and I forgived him. But: It didn‘t stopped. He was verbal abusive. He said that I am a whore. He made me feeling small and like I am the worst person in the world. He said, that I am a psycho. He said I am a joke. He said I am nothing. He said, that he has to talk and scream with me like this, because I don‘t understand his points otherwise. He began to destroy things like my watch or a necklace. The walls had holes and he often grabbed me at my shoulders very hard when he got angry. When I cried, he became angrier at all. I locked myself in the toilet because I had so much fear of him. He also pushed me at the asphalt when he was drunk sometimes. I had bruises. One time he choked me. I never told anybody what happend, because I always forgived him and felt so fucking guilty. I tried to left him, but he always said, that he will kill himself, when I go. I went to therapy but even there I was so ashamed, that I didn‘t talk about the abuse. After two years of therapy I got stronger and stronger. I was ready to talk to somebody about the things that happend to me and that I want to leave him. Suddenly I felt free and was ready to go. He always said, that he loves me and that I am the love of his life. It never was love. I realized that I was in an abusive relationship. There were verbal, emotional and physical abuse. I didn't imagine any of it. I wasn't crazy. Whoever is reading this and is in a similar situation: You are strong! You are intelligent! You are beautiful! You are a good person! You can trust yourself! You can talk to someone! You can do this! You can leave him! You are a wonderful human being! I love you all out there and send you hugs. We have to share our stories and we are allowed to share them. Together we can change something.

Understanding the Complexity of Sexual Abuse It is difficult for people, even victims, to comprehend how complicated sexual abuse can be, including trauma responses. I was gang raped when I was younger. I was so traumatised that I repressed memories of it. A few months later slight memories returned to me about it and snippets of memory thereafter, but it wasn’t until years later that most of the memories became vivid through scary flashbacks. I developed late onset PTSD. I went to counselling but, at that time, there seemed to be limited knowledge on how to deal with this condition, so it was a struggle. I always wanted to report it but I felt I had to clearly remember everything little detail to do so. A few years after I started counselling my urge to report the rape became so strong that I felt I had to do it. There wasn’t sufficient evidence for the DPP to prosecute. I felt really upset about that but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I had a mixed experience dealing with the Gardaí, one was nice but the other made victim blaming remarks. The DPP came across as cold and indifferent. A couple of years after I made the complaint some high profile cases were covered in the news. The female colleagues I lunched with kept making victim blaming comments. They even said ‘every woman, who reported sexual assault that didn’t lead to a conviction, lied’. This was disturbing because it is so untrue. This triggered my PTSD again. I felt so alone, like there was no one in my life who understood what I was going through. I used to feel so angry and let down by the lack of justice and understanding, but now I know that I don’t need this type of validation. However I definitely still welcome improvements in the justice system and society, in the way victims are treated. Healing to me is self-validation and connecting with people who care. Finally I have people to connect with, who won’t judge. I’m so pleased to be a part of this wonderful network of people in this space of We-Speak.

I don't remember the exact age I was when it happened. I(female at the time) was no older than 9 which would have made my sister(F) at the very least, 13 as she is 4 years older than me. She found out that I had been watching videos of girls kissing on youtube (back before there were harsher guidelines in place) and told me that she wanted to do that with me. I didn't really want to, i wasn't interested but didn't really even consider the entire 'we're sisters" part to be an issue. She told me if i didn't, she would tell our mom. My mom was a scary person, i never wanted her mad at me and she knew that when she threatened me with it. So for that entire Summer vacation, whenever we spent the weekends at our dads house, she would make me sit on her lap and make out with her. I told her multiple times i didn't like it, i wasn't having fun, i wanted to stop. She told me it was good practice for when we had boyfriends, which i also didn't really care about. She would tell me I wasn't putting enough energy into it and scold me, if I didn't use tongue she would get mad at me, she would give me the silent treatment the next day if I didn't do 'a good job' and she was only really nice to me if i *did* 'do a good job'. Her being nice to me was almost entirely foreign, especially when we were young. I am now 24 and i cut her out of my life several years ago when I fully registered the impact that her actions had on me and what they meant. I never felt comfortable alone with her again, i was constantly attacked with mental images of what happened and would feel sick to my stomach when i spoke to her. Neither of us ever spoke about it again and i didn't tell her why i blocked her after she left state. My mother asked relentlessly and i only ever told her "i'm sure she knows why." I sometimes feel guilty for what happened, i sometimes think that it never would've happened if i never looked up videos of girls kissing. I blame myself still even tho i'm sure my sister never thinks it's her fault- she has never been the type of person to take accountability for anything in her entire life. We were both minors but she was old enough to understand it was inappropriate, and i was young enough to believe anything my older sister told me. I've never told anyone the details of what happened until now. I'm too ashamed and too scared. Thank you to anyone who reads this and i hope anyone who experienced something similar is healing along with me.

A friend and I dated within the same friend group, and I used to hang out with the guys a lot--I considered them as my brothers. One night when we were altogether, I felt too drunk to take myself home and felt safe with my friends ex to get a cab and drop me off. He came in uninvited and kissed me, then all I remember are flashes of us being naked, him being inside of me, going down on me, etc., but I felt like I couldn't move. I woke up to shower, my bed was broken, and he was gone. I called him the next day to confront him about it, and that I don't even remember what happened. He said he thought "i enjoyed it" (I was unconscious half of the time), and only stopped because the bed broke. Although he apologized he had the audacity to tell me not to share this with anyone, and to this day only very few close friends know about this incident. It truly broke my trust even with platonic guy friendships.

How to listen to a family member reveal their sexual abuse and protect them from it. For many years I have been hiding, hiding in my denial that my father was a sexual abuser. One of my Nieces, an innocent child at the time of the assault, was sexually abused by my father, and I refused to believe her story. I did not accept her story. I believed my father when he stated that he had not abused her. My niece was so young, over 30 years ago, when this happened, and I still feel her pain. I hope that one day she will reach out to me, giving me the opportunity to apologize for not believing in her. To All who have loved ones, friends, and neighbors, believe in them, and assist them in finding the help they need. No person should be required to live with this type of pain for the rest of their lives. Sexual abuse can happen anywhere - in school, church, with friends, parents, relatives, and strangers. On this note, the same person who molested my niece; also molested me for over ten years, and I kept quiet until two years ago when I started speaking about my being molested to a group of men. Listen to your child. Not listening could result in a lifetime of trauma. This hidden story could haunt the child for the rest of their life. I am writing this to help victims of any age so that when ready, they can tell their stories and not go through what I have been going through all my life. As a survivor, I have been carrying a heavy load on my shoulders for many years. Still, I get flashbacks of what happened to me as a child. I do sometimes talk with a counselor when I get these flashbacks. When I was younger, there was no one I could speak with regarding these issues. I am writing to put the information in place to help those seeking assistance. Help all parents and children. We need to be there for them. Listen, and try to understand them. Most of all – Be their Angel.

Last year I was gang raped. I have an ear ringing called tinnitus that has not stopped since. I have nightmares. I flew with my mom to a wedding overseas. I was excited. She would be busy with her friends and cousin and I would get to spend time with my awesome second cousin who is two years older than me. After the rehearsal dinner we went out. It was fun because I was not legally able to drink there even though the age was lower than in my province, but they did not check ID’s. I did not drink much because it was not my thing and I had a boyfriend but I was able to go to some bars then a club attached to a hotel. So much fun up to when we met two soldiers in uniform who were cute and separated us from her friends because of our looks. My cousin is stunning beautiful. They had a private room at the club and several soldiers were there and two prostitutes also. Those prostitutes definitely hated us being there. I wanted to get out anyway and the cute ones that invited us acted like they understood and took us out of there. We stupidly let them take us to their hotel room where they totally dropped the cute romantic act and made us strip our clothes to music. They showed us a gun they had in a drawer. I was terrified. They made us lay on our stomachs bent over the bed side by side and had sex with us that way. They switched like we were interchangeable before finishing in us with no protection. We held hands. I was crying while my cousin was trying to be strong and cheer me up. We weren’t allowed to leave and our clothes were hidden. Before took our phones we had to text that we were staying at my cousin’s friend’s house. Then they called two other soldiers, one of them a huge tall dark guy with body builder muscles. He was the worst to me. They made us dance and then we had to use our mouths on the cute ones that had lured us there while the other two had sex with us. I vomited and my cousin cleaned it up but then it started again. They had cocaine and made us sniff it off their parts and sniffed it off us. Another one came and I think it was just those five during the night but they kept raping us and making us do things even when we would pass out. I would like to have been more unconscious but cocaine makes you so awake. I want to remember less and think about it all less. We showered many times. The big dark one peed on me and in my mouth the shower. He did it more than once like I was his toilet. The other men even had to tell him to chill out when he was making me scream liking his fingers and pushing them in my arse, but not when he made me crawl around like a dog using my hair as a leash. I remember one of them calling their friends to tell them to turn all their t.v.’s way up to hide the noise in our room. They watched sports news on the t.v. They had me and my cousin kiss each other and stuff. I could not act like it was a fun party like my cousin did sometimes and encouraged me to do. She tried to take some of their attention away from me over and over. I love her for it but they did not leave me alone. My chest is something they were obsessed with. They did not care that I was obviously distressed and freaking out or that in my country I was three years below the age of consent. There I was the minimum. We woke up in the morning on one the beds together with only the two soldiers sleeping on the floor. The black one was gone! They had sex with us again and another man who was much older and who they called SIR came in and had sex with both us but mostly me. They cheered him on and my head was pounding and I was crying and it seemed to last forever. Finally we got our clothes back but they took us for brunch wearing their normal clothes. They showed me pictures on their phones that made it look like I was having fun and warned us how bad it would be if we said anything different than we had a nice party. A nice party in hell! Before that I’d had sex with only my 1 boyfriend ever. One night of hell and now my number was seven!! We had to start getting ready for the wedding right away and I was exhausted. My cousin hid me and I took a nap in my dress, hair and makeup until the last minute. I cried in the ceremony but not for the wedding. I was so sore in my vagina, muscles, and brain that I got so drunk at the reception I barely remember any of it. Just part of being on the plane home. I told my mom the truth when I got back and she got all crazy, so did my dad, and they tried to call over there and the hotel and such but there was nothing the police would do. I saw my dad cry for the first time as I told the whole story. My boyfriend could not handle it and dumped me. I go to group and do therapy. I take a pill everyday and now benzo’s for break through anxiety. I try to hide my large chest under baggy clothes where before I used it for attention. STUPID! My cousin does not seem to have the trauma I do or the nightmares. In her country they are done with secondary school up to two years before us and are more treated like adults sooner. I said mean things to her once because of it. She forgave me but we talk much less since I asked if she has gang bangs all the time. I felt terrible because she even let them have anal sex with her to lure them away from me. I could tell it hurt her so much but at the time was just thinking about my own survival. My childhood is OVER but I do not feel like an adult. Her advice is -Don’t let it get you so down-. Like I have a choice in this!! She went to a therapist ONCE because her mom made the appointment and does not plan to go back. Her life did not really change!! She works reception at a tech company and models on the side and still goes to parties and clubs and dates. How??? It is unbelievable how attitudes toward something like this can be so different in different countries. I am a victim now and I usually feel like it. Definitely damaged. Everybody at my school knows why. I am THAT girl. My new more mature boyfriend is understanding but I feel like a sad little burden to him. I am hypersexual sometimes now and can’t help it. It is a coping mechanism that happens to some victims of sexual assault. I did not ask for it. I worry my boyfriend can’t trust me because of it. I had an older guy friend who’s been my neighbor for years take advantage of me after I told him the story of what happened at his house. We had sex and then he felt guilty for being turned on by my rape story. He admitted it and asked me to forgive him. The sex helped me calm the ear ringing for just short time periods so I did it with him more than once a day for a bit until my dad started to suspect something and talked to him. Since then I don’t trust myself. I want to marry my boyfriend in large part just to protect myself and show him I love him and am loyal even though I am not sure I can be. I worry I cannot love like a normal person. I worry I push him away being too needy and wanting to marry him so soon. I need him more than he needs me. Is that the way it will always be in relationships for rape victims??? I work hard at school not to ruin my future. It is so hard to focus. My ears ring constantly. Thank you for listening.

It was the guy i was dating at the time, and we were just hanging out at his house like any normal day. He’d push me into sex all the time, and i’m realizing months later i have a lot of trauma from this relationship, but this particular instance has been rattling in my head a lot lately. He started forcing himself on to me, despite that i was saying “stop” “what are you doing” he wouldn’t stop. I specifically remember the look on his face. I’ve never seen someone be able to look evil like that. evil is not a word i use, but it’s exactly how to describe it. I continued to resist, of course, and before anything actually happened, he stopped. I remember saying “(name), what the fuck are you doing?” and the look on his face finally changed and he stepped back and just said “I don’t know... sorry”. i don’t know if this is actually assault or not. but recently i heard from a girl he dated before me, that him and another guy forced themselves onto her, and didn’t stop. i don’t have any way to know if it’s true or not because they all admit there was a lot of drinking and drugs involved that night so their memory is foggy, but she mentioned the look on his face. she said how she only saw anger in his eyes. and i knew what face she was talking about. what if he does it again?? is there anything i can do?? was i actually assaulted or am i in my head over fucking nothing??? i don’t know what to do.

I feel that I have never been able to be who I truly am. I was abused by my uncle from I think around 6 until 18. We lived with them and the reason I don't know the age I was when it started is that I remember nothing in my life prior to it. I know the exact story of the first time it happened and it then happened so frequently that I couldn't count. Many times a day, many days a week, many weeks a year etc. It has ruined who I am and my personality now is one of full compliance. I can't say no to people, i let people abuse me in many ways, not just sexually because I do what I have to to please those around me. I told no one of the abuse until 18, and have only told my husband. I have now found out that another cousin suffered the same and her life is absolutely off the rails. I think it happened to all of us, there are five girls but we simply never speak of it. He is still alive, I don't see him, none of us do as he is a drug addict. I want to seek justice but don't know if I am strong enough to survive that. He made my life a nightmare, he changed who I was, he destroyed me.

Dear, What’s it like not knowing? What's it like not knowing all that you’ve done? I want to remember what it's like. All I know now is what you have done. All I know is how to feel this emptiness that came with the full feeling of dread and hollowness. What’s it like not knowing? I want to know. I want to ask. Do you really not know? Where you smart enough to figure it out? Are you still living in denial like I was? Are you in full realization and just don’t care? Or do you just not know or care to think about it. I don’t want to think about it but I have no choice. You gave me no choice. You gave me no chance that morning and you gave me no choice everyday this last year. Ever since I put it together with the help of the psychologist on the phone. Who told me you raped me. Who has to tell me that I in fact had my choice taken from me. What’s it like not knowing you’ve done that? I want to know. I want to remember. Tell me what it's like. I want to know. I want to remember. And I can lie to myself. Say that I live in your head like you live in mine but I know it's not true. You don't think about me at all. That's your choice. I have no choice. You gave me no choice. What is it like having a choice? What is it like to not care enough to know you have a choice and that you took someone else's away? What is it like? Tell me. Tell me. I can't ask.I can't ask you what it's like. I don’t have the choice. I have no choice to ask. I have no choice to ask if you remember. If you know. If you care. If you choose. You do. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Choose to tell me. I want to know. What is it like for you? What is it like not knowing that you live in my head? That you won't leave. Tell me. What is it like not knowing that you ruined a year of my life and threaten to ruin more. Tell me. What is it like? I want to know. I want to remember.

Women CANNOT physically harm men to anywhere NEAR the same severity tht men can women. Full stop. Before I experienced abuse, I nvr used to be afraid of men. I used to think I could reasonably defend myself against all but the biggest, most muscular guys, tht I'd be able to put up a good fight if ever necessary. Turns out, I had no fucking idea what I was talking about. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EASILY HE CAN KILL YOU, SIS. Or cause a traumatic brain injury or rupture ur spleen or break out ur teeth or... You cannot imagine how quickly & effortlessly he can permanently. change. your. life. Do NOT fuck around, sis. RUN. Get. Out. NOW. .... countless women before you miscalculated their risk & many paid with their lives. Please PLEASE act with the urgency tht your LIFE deserves. I love you.

in school i had a teacher reach down my bra and up my skirt to grab my behind I've had this happen with the same teacher 3 times so my parents removed me from the school and i started a new one where i have lots of mental health support but not towards being a victim of sexual assault. this is my first time telling anyone other than my parents but my message to people is speak up don't be afraid.

#BIPOC story: Because of the age difference, we were always hiding, we would stay at hotels and fuck around in rented hottubs, cars, or friends rooms who weren’t home This time we were in an airbnb I dont know why we started arguing I dont think it matters but I remember he slapped me so hard while we were having sex it broke something in me And I slapped him back because he told me to, but it wasn’t hard enough, and he just slapped me harder Somehow we were on the streets of the city, I think because the airbnb homeowners were there and I didn’t want them to hear us fight I was following him in my car, on the streets, crying and begging As he cursed me and tried to leave Finally we caught up with each other, he had my iPhone and stomped it into the sidewalk I jumped out the car and got in his face Next thing I remember he was just hitting me and hitting me in the face, it was so bad I fell to the floor and tried to crawl away on someone’s lawn My voice croaked, I screamed for help He stopped Somehow we were back in the car and back at the airbnb There were no words to be said No more tears And there we were having sex again, or I was being used For hours until we stopped and when I looked in the mirror I had a bloody lip and swollen face And a broken iPhone I was like 18, I didn’t know how I could go home and show my face So we spent another night together, somewhere

Back on April 6th 2019 (yesterday was 2 years) i was dog/house sitting for a family member of mine when on of their family friend came over. He kept having me try a bunch of different alcoholic drinks until eventually I was drunk. Without going into too much detail he took advantage of me. The next morning I woke up feeling so numb and stuck. I eventually told my mom later that night when I was picked up and they kept trying to contact the guy. My mom hadn’t heard back until the next day when she told me he took his life. The wave of guilt and sadness that hit me in that moment felt so unbearable. For the next few weeks after I remember not leaving my bed unless it was to use the bathroom. Then (thankfully) my mom was able to get me put in therapy. Where I was put with the most amazing therapist. After a few months of one on one I was put into group therapy as well. Where i got to meet the most incredible and strong women. Therapy had taught me so much and helped me so much. It taught me (and this goes for everyone who has gone through something like this) that it was not my fault. It taught me that healing isn’t linear. That you’re gonna have bad days months and maybe even years after but that’s okay because that’s still healing. Therapy taught me that I’m strong, but its okay to not always be because we are human. To anyone who reads this I want you to know you are not alone and you’re doing amazing. I’m proud of you. You got this :)

Growing up I remember mostly being alone. I can remember playing in the mud making mud pies or sitting outside in the grass, but mostly I was alone. I don't remember playing with other kids on the playground or even with my sisters, my memories are just me and me. I don't know when that started to happen, but I do know that I wasn't able to remember most of my childhood. I really couldn't remember much of my life until I was around 43. Before that it was nothing but abuse which makes sense with the memory loss and just being alone. I left my ex husband of 25 years in 2022 and once I left I suppose I wasn't in the chaos anymore and my body started to recognize this and it started healing on it's own. I quit my job, sat outside most of the day and went to the lake and cried on and off mostly especially at night. I had cashed out my ESOP and traveled and while I was traveling driving through Indiana my eyes started twitching which was weird but during this flashes would come feelings I hadn't felt before would rise but I had no idea what was going on. I later learned about EMDR and it seems I was naturally doing this on my own with no clue of what it was. From this point on I started to remember what all had happened to me. Before all this to me it was just normal and the abuse wasn't really abuse. It took me until September 2023 to realize what had happened to me was not ok. I was watching the movie Safe Haven and I had seen it before and thought that was terrible nothing like that had ever happened to me except it had. I also didn't realize that most of my marriage consisted of marital rape, I thought we were married and when I would say no he would get on top of me anyway and that it was ok cause we were married and I just wanted him to hurry up and get off of me. He would be drunk and I would say no but he would get on top of me anyways and I would just be like hurry up then and stare at the ceiling and pretend so he would hurry up and get off of me. I can remember his hands felt like sandpaper. I met him when I was 14 and he was 19. My mom introduced us, she was always pushing men onto me taking me with her to meet men letting men touch me, and it was a relief that she was trying to get me to go out with me because at least he wasn't in his 20's or 30's sometimes they were older. She would take me dances just about anything, I'd have to watch her be with me in the front seat of the car while me and my sisters where in the back. So I guess relief is a good word. He liked me and showed me attention and bought me things and didn't ask to do anything sexual so I thought ok he must like but he was so jealous something I thought was cute like he really liked me. But before all this all I had known was hands hitting me and men touching me and my mom just watching it all as if it was ok. The first time we were together it was in the front seat of his tracker I was 16 and he was 21 by then I thought it was cool that older men liked me. It's taken me a long time to see that wasn't ok either. I was just a kid and didn't get to do kid things. But I didn't like it the first time it happened, he got mad at me but I can't remember what he said. It felt disgusting and it just hurt. I didn't ever want to do it again but we did. He would take me to the woods or somewhere quiet. It had really started when I was 14 but not being in me just using his hands. It felt so intense but I still didn't like it I just didn't understand what I was feeling. My mom would be in the bed next to us. We got married when I was 17 my dad signed the papers. Social workers (I was also in foster care as a teenager) would encourage me to be with him saying he was a better influence for me he was not. They didn't know because I just never told anyone. He was like that guy off that movie Fear I think is the name of it. I used to watch that movie and think oh I have that guy isn't that cool. I have suffered alot in my life too much to write about in one story, but I didn't realize until maybe a month ago that it felt disgusting to me the first time we did it (my ex) because when I was 11 my mom let a mom touch me down there and she was in the car his hand felt so heavy inside of me I couldn't move it, my two sisters were right beside me with my mom in the front seat and ask her for him to stop and she laughed at me and told I hope you never get a boyfriend. So somewhere in my mind I thought when I get a boyfriend I had to let him do whatever he wanted to which also led to the entire time I was with my ex. Prior to that there are many men that she would bring home from the dances, one guy I hid from all night in between my sisters in their bed I was between 11 and almost 12. She had brought him home, but I had danced with a cute boy that night but she wouldn't let me talk to him. The cute boy had told the man so the man said that I was easy (the man from the car) and that seemed to initiate him touching me. The cute boy who was also 19 when I was 13, came to visit me one day and I remember having the conversation but not sure what was said I think he told me he didn't say that come to find out it was his uncle. He died this August (the man from the car) and I won't lie I was glad he was gone I finally felt safe in some ways and was able to open up about it in therapy. The boy that had visited is in prison for a long time. During his visit he wanted to have sex but I don't remember what happened I just know he never came back after that. When I was a little girl there was a man that worked with my granny at her Flower Shop and this man glasses nice normal person he also hurt me and those memories are starting to surface now through EMDR. In my last session I can remember all these horrible things he said to me. I have seen him a few times but his name is plastered all over the town I live in. I was between 4 and 6 when all this happened. There is a flash of me when I was a flower girl and his hand under my dress. Some days I just want to runaway far far away and live in cave away from the world. Right now I am not working because it seems every job I try and get becomes to stressful for me but it's hard because I can't take care of myself financially and I had to move back in with my ex. I don't have family or friends to go to been isolated most of my life and my mom is still alive but I don't have anything to do with her. I stay to myself away from him (my ex) and we are not together, but I did try talking to him about all the things he has done to me he was also very physically and emotionally and financially abusive towards me and he told it's in the past nothing to do about it now. So I stopped trying to get him to see what he did was wrong, I am honestly not sure he understands it was wrong not that makes it excused. I did try and stay at a DV shelter last year and that place triggered me so much I had to leave. I have also called other shelters and found that so many of them don't have funds or enough room for people and they aren't trained well if at all in helping people with abuse. They merely seem to be a babysitter. I've been homeless, slept in my car, couch hopped you name and it's all too much for me so I came back to a place I was familiar with so I could keep healing and maybe cause he is too old to bother me anymore idk but he doesn't bother me anymore my ex and I have set strict boundaries for him. I have my own space, but I am healing through all of this well after all of this and my story isn't ideal but it's mine and for now I am doing the best I can with what I have. I'm currently working on my Masters in Mental Health Counseling and want to be a child therapist when I'm done. If anything I can take all these painful experiences and help children with their trauma.

After 20 years or more, I believed for so long that if i kept to myself my experience and trauma that with time I'll forget but i was wrong and the only thing i have accomplished keeping this a secret is hurt myself even more. I felt for so long that i was alone that maybe it was best for me to take this pain to the grave and never give it the attention that it deserves but again im only hurting myself if I keep it to myself.