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I was...

The person who harmed me was a...

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My sexual orientation is...

I identify as...

I was...

When this occurred I also experienced...

Welcome to Our Wave.

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

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Story
From a survivor
🇺🇸

Major Sexual Harassment

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

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    It Started with my Brother

    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.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • “These moments in time, my brokenness, has been transformed into a mission. My voice used to help others. My experiences making an impact. I now choose to see power, strength, and even beauty in my story.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇮🇳

    YOUR PROTECTORS BECOME ABUSERS .

    HELLO PEOPLE , its nice we can share our stories over here . So im a 19 year old girl from india who has a very typical indian family of four , me my little brother, mother and father . So my story is , my father used to physically abuse my mother since i was some months old , it started . he beat her over silly reasons . then when i gradually grew up and reached class 1 i was 6or 7 years old at that time , my father made me study for an entrance exam for class 6th and the syllabus was all of class 6th and 7th 9(to be noted that i was in class 1 at that point) . so my father made me study high level subjects of class 6th when i was still in class 1 which was a very tough job for me . i couldnt understand anything , and then my father used to beat me . he never let me play with friends , go out , in short he never let me have my childhood as childhood . he was always very extremely focused on my studies but forgot that i was still a child . We lived far from my father's village where my grandmother lived so in every summer vacations he used to take me and kept me there in the village where he would give me tution classes for the examination prep so i never got to enjoy my vacations . When was home , again the same thing , study and watch domestic violence at home . i always had to hear really abusive words which as a child i got traumatized . so when i was in class 2 , my mother got into an extramarital affair which i found out eventually and i hated my mother for that i was very shameful and i wanted to tell my father about this but i didnt . eventually my father found out and i remember that day when he beat her so much after he catch her red handed . It was a divorce situation but even then they stayed. my mother was no more into affair stuff but still i hated her . i wished she would die . later as i grew up the violence continued at home where i had to stop them both , physical abuse , abusive words and everything continued . it was really toxic . they both used to abuse me and my brother verbally with words like slut , Name and any abusive slangs you can think of . this is to be noted that my mother was also not very decent or you can say nice , she didnt do household chores at time , didnt made food on time , was extremely lazy (to be noted that my father helped her in everything ) but she didnt cuz she was ill manned to be honest . and so all of this continues and when i was in 1 i had my first boyfriend and my parents found out and they kind of accepted it at the first so when i appeared for 10th boards , i scored a 90.2 percent despite being in love and stuff but my parents where not happy infact they shamed me for my result (to be noted that they have never been satisfied by my results even if i score the full marks or become the topper they just always compare me with other children which made my self esteem and confidence shatter ) . they blamed me and my love affair for the 90.2 percent i scored which was too less for them because i was not the topper , the topper was at 93 . and now im in college , 3 years have passed by after that result but still they abuse and compare me for my 90.2 percent . i attempted suicide twice but i survived and they dont know bout this . i always get suicidal thoughts . they have never given me any privacy , they take control of everything , dont let me go out , visit a friend , talk to a friend over call . its suffocating . now im 19 and im again preparing for an exam , they have continued they abuse , domestic violence and everything . they make me hear for anything i eat , they have locked me up in a room where i have a laptop and study and sit here the whole day . they verablly abuse me a lot . some days ago i had a packet of noodles when i was hungry because my mom hadn't prepared food and it was very late and my mom found out that i ate noodles and she called me slut and other slangs infront of all neighbours . they always have been toxic . please mind that i have no problem studying . but i dont think something which takes away your entire childhood from you is not worth it . So my entire teenage and childhood was destroyed . i dont know how my adulthood would go because they wont let me live they are always here to pull me down . i wish i could just die .

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • “I really hope sharing my story will help others in one way or another and I can certainly say that it will help me be more open with my story.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Fuck university

    My story started back when I was 16/17 years old. I was working in a restaurant, and had a crush on my older boss. When I say older, I mean 35. I thought I was all grown up even though I was just a baby, and he had no problem taking advantage. What happened to me over the course of approximately a year and a half haunts and horrified me. It all culminated in me attempting suicide right after I turned 18. Then I got help, and went away to college. This was supposed to be my fresh start. Sadly it did not turn out that way. I met a monster, a person that follows me around in my nightmares and wakes me from a deep sleep every night when I dream of his face. I was still innocent, and I thought that he loved me. Instead, he put a baby in me and beat and raped me so viciously when he found out that I thought I was going to die from the amount of blood. I miscarried, and fell apart once again. I was just 18 still. I attempted suicide once more, landing me in a hellish mental hospital. I was stripped of all my clothing, and all of my choices. I was in pain that whole summer, and had severe panic attacks that were so bad I got fired from my job and needed medical attention every time they would happen. I was unable to attend classes for a year and a half. My monster kept showing up, now in the form of triggers. A white hat, the scent of cologne, even a particular tone of voice. In all this, the campus police made me feel like it was my fault. I know that no one on earth would ask for this. If it was my fault, and I asked for it, why am I still dying in pain every day three years later?

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • Healing is not linear. It is different for everyone. It is important that we stay patient with ourselves when setbacks occur in our process. Forgive yourself for everything that may go wrong along the way.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    As I grew older, I realized that my mother was a toxic parent.

    This story contains descriptions of self-harm and suicidal thoughts. Please be aware of this. I am a single, HSP-afflicted freelancer. I am currently 38 years old. Like many people my age, my mother was violent when angry. She also broke things, accusing me of misbehaving, such as tearing down all the posters of my favorite idols that were hanging in my room. When she wasn't angry with me or my sister, she would repeatedly smash the frying pan she was using to cook food into the sink if the food burned or if she accidentally dropped a glass, or she would smash even chipped cups and plates. She would then run out of the house, often not knowing when she would return. I remember feeling lonely even as a child. When I was 13, after my mother broke a plate and ran out as usual, I couldn't bear it any longer and used the broken pieces to self-harm. I cut myself deeply on my arm. I think I told my mother I'd fallen, but the scars I still see today clearly couldn't have been caused by that. It wasn't until I turned 36 that I realized the abnormal relationship between my mother and me. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, we've had a series of unfortunate events in the family. My mother, who should be over 60, has a terrible ability to control her emotions and has no boundaries with me, her daughter. Gradually, I realized that my childhood environment was strange, and that the physical and emotional scars were deeper than I'd realized. It may sound unbelievable, but until recently, I didn't think my self-harm was a big deal. I'd barely thought about these scars in my life. I didn't hide them, but I'd spent decades without telling anyone. My mother and I were close, and we'd talk about anything, so now I'm really suffering. I've always been told by family and friends that I was quick to anger and had a tendency to get angry, which really bothered me, and I've struggled with my relationships. I've tried to understand why I was the way I was, reading various books, researching online, and trying to change my personality. So I really can't forgive my mother for taking out her anger on her children despite being a grown adult, for breaking things, for running away from home on a daily basis, and for laughing at my personality for decades, calling it weird. More than anything, I feel like my life is irreparable, and I can't bear the frustration. If I had realized my mother's abnormal side sooner, I think my personality and the way I build relationships would have been different. I'm in the midst of a flood of emotions. When I have more free time from my freelance work, I often think that being a Shin would be nice. It's a bit disorganized, but I'd be happy if it could be of some use to someone.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • “Healing is different for everyone, but for me it is listening to myself...I make sure to take some time out of each week to put me first and practice self-care.”

    Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇨🇦

    Yes, please. I want him caught.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    #121

    It took me years to come to terms with what was really happening. When I was 9 years old, I met a boy online, and we quickly became friends. We knew everything about each other - He was 15 when we first met. When I was 10 and he was 16, he asked to be my boyfriend. Being a naive 10 year old girl I said yes. I can’t be mad at her for that. It was innocent at first. Just what you’d expect from a childhood relationship - “I love you, goodnight.” “Hope you’re doing okay.” “Let’s play some games together!” The only difference was that one of us were nearly an adult. Someone who should have known better to not even THINK about being romantically involved with a 10 year old girl. However, it went sour. He started talking to me about sexual subjects. Stuff I wasn’t at all familiar with. He’d make us roleplay situations, what he’d do to me if he got ahold of me in real life. Asking for photos. Guilt tripping me for seeming “off” or uninterested. I began to feel distressed at the time, but I was so young, that wasn’t really an emotion I had felt before. I told myself, this sick feeling must be love. That must be why I feel so nervous, why I feel knots in my stomach when I see his name pop up on my screen. I was very attached to him, at least I thought I was. I was always picked on in school and the few friends I had were awful to me, so he was my only real friend. My worst fear was somehow losing him, and he must have known that I thought that. He took advantage of that, and would guilt trip me at any opportunity to make sure I did whatever he wanted me to. After a while, he broke up with me, but we were still very much so “friends”. We would talk everyday, and he was still just as inappropriate and creepy with me as he was before. Throughout the years, he would begin to talk to me about worse and worse stuff. He explicitly told me about his attraction to children, and that he worked as a teaching assistant in a primary school. I tried to brush it off and keep it at the back of my mind, but I got to tipping point last year when he started to pressure me into meeting with him in real life. It went on for 7 years. I hate to say it, and it makes me sad for the little girl that I was, but the rest of my childhood was stolen from me. I’m 17 now, about the same age he was when we met. The thought of EVER saying the stuff to a 10,11,12 year old that he did makes me feel physically ill. I still haven’t fully processed what happened to me, but I’ve been working on it. I’m yet to cry, at least properly, about it. The thing that sucks about this is that this went on for so long, that it felt completely normal. The people in my life who know all cried when I told them. It felt unfair, really - that they could cry about it. And I’m just stuck in a mindset I’m desperately trying to get out of where this is normal, and I feel completely numb. Recently, I decided I wanted to do something about it. I went to the police. This night, I sent off old screenshots of conversations between us to a detective working on my case. It’s terrifying, being that vulnerable. But I feel obligated to do it. The thought of him being around children all day makes me sick. I don’t care if he doesn’t go to prison - as long as he’s never near a child again I’ll be happy. That’s why I’m doing it. I won’t let shame and embarrassment stop me from doing this, and I especially won’t let my brain tell me he doesn’t deserve punishment. Because that’s exactly what he’d want me to think, too.

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  • “You are the author of your own story. Your story is yours and yours alone despite your experiences.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    K

    I had an aunt who had a son here in America. We were pretty close since our families only had each other here so we would go over to their house often. I was around 5 so he was like 7 or 8. We would play around the house while our parents talked and I remember us being in his parents room playing with some dinosaur figures one day when he closed the door and told me to go into the closet with him. I did and he shut the closet doors and started to tell me to do weird things like licking his hands and he would touch my privates. I cant remember exactly what else happened that day but I remember knowing it was wrong but I couldn't bring myself to tell my mom because I had done the things he told me to do. To be honest, I had forgotten everything until I went to Mexico for the first time and when I saw him, I suddenly remembered this day. I hate that I cant remember everything that happened and if it had happened more than once on separate occasions. I also hate that I'm scared of him and I don't know if he remembers. I haven't seen him since that day but it didn't seem like he felt awkward around me. I resent him so much because I have become hyper sexual but I feel sad because I wonder how he even knew this stuff. Was someone doing these things to him? I have only told my ex best friend and current best friend... I want to tell my mom, I know she will believe me, but I feel like it's already been so long that it won't change anything. I am now 19 and don't want to start any family drama. What should I do?

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇮🇪

    #708

    Im sorry for being graphic i will try my best to keep it pg and I apologise for the length. I only really learned that I had been assaulted years after it happened and I had casually told a friend. I was in country on a year abroad. Me and a guy "friend" went into a bigger city for shopping. Once we got back to our town he invited me for a drink in his house. I saw nothing sinister about it. Until he started being very sexual and he took out his member and started playing with himself. I was very uncomfortable. He forced it into my mouth and it choked me. I was so scared I pushed him off and I ran out of his house. Didn't even bother taking my shopping bags. Bever spoke to him again. He didn't understand why I ignored him after that. I didn't really process it as oral rape until a friend years later told me it was. That happened in year. I had never understood why my depression started in country and i fell into drug addiction to cope. It was because of that. Still to this day i have trauma with giving oral sex to my partner. Thankfully he is very supportive. Another story of mine is I was good friends with a guy as his girlfriend was one of my best friends. In year they broke up for a short time and he came over to my house. I had been friends with him for 2 years at this stage. We watched a movie and it was fine. Until I said I was going to bed. He begged me to let him stay in the bed with me as he missed cuddling someone. I felt uncomfortable and in my gut I knew it wasn't right. I ignored it anyway thinking it was harmless. He proceeded to try it on with me and I told him no over and over as I was dating someone. I eventually gave up saying no as I knew it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't listen. He coerced me into it so I just let it happen. I felt awful about the whole thing and I confided in a friend. I didn't tell my other friend (the girlfriend) it happened as I just wanted to move on. They got back together. But after the whole thing I had a crisis admission to hospital to deal with with it. Fast forward 5 months later. The friend I confided in and told the girlfriend what happened and they both called me telling me I should go to the guards. I didn't want to. I wanted to move on. I didn't see a point as it wasn't forced rape. It was coercion. They eventually thought just because I didn't want to go to the guards that I was lying about the whole thing. It breaks my heart that she is still with him and tells everyone that I lied about it and that I will try and steal everyone's man. This is the thing about being a survivor of assault that everyone makes you think it was all in your head when you know it wasn't. No one else was there. He knows what he did and so do I. He even sent me a text a few weeks later after it happened apologising for what he did. I still keep the screenshot of the message just in case. Thank you for reading my stories. I want everyone to know that we will get through it. It makes us stronger people. And always stay true to yourself. We are survivors. Thank you for letting me share my story

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Escaping Inmate #

    A letter to my Hudband, I have yet to give him. My husbands father came to live with us after he got out of prison. He is finally out of the house, after a year, but not before fully taking advantage of me. I am younger and thought that he had turned good.. but he continued to sell drugs. He got close to me in the begging and I trusted him. I didnt have a dad growing up that was there all the time. I thought he was safe. He collected information and then holds it over my head and threatens me with violence and blackmail. He continuously harasses me, always touching inappropriately, making commitments no family member should to another. I kept telling my husband I wanted him out for months. But he delayed it. Eventually the tension grew between me and my father in law. He stole my phone and sent nude pictures of myself to him along with text messages, to use it against me saying see she did this. Fortunately I have proff it was him doing so from a text admitting it. He ended up raping me. And he knows I won't say anything because of the blackmail and threats. I've told a friend and I have went to the dr. But i have not filed any type of charges. I'm still to scared to. I still havent been able to tell my husband and wake up sick to my stomach everyday. But heres what I wrote but cant find the strength to give it to him. Today his dad is supposed to leave the state but i think he wants to ruin everything with my kids and husband before he does. So today I am scared, trapped. Here it is: I wanted to tell you I've hated myself Sick to my stomach from my own bad decisions Made someone one else see how small I was And he preyed on me I was taken advantage of I trusted when I shouldnt of I wanted to run to you so many times But I couldnt find the words And I didnt want any of our progress to go backwards At first I felt I was safe from him That he would never do anything to hurt you or me He slowly manipulated me And he made me trust him He made comments about how you would never truly love me constantly He told me his secrets And then he began to push and shove me He told me time and again that you say I got pregnant on purpose so you wouldnt leave And threw the last couple years I've heard it again and again He peeled back my layers I felt I could let some things out But I wish I never would of Should of gone another route Hed say.. What am I going to have to do to sleep with you? You no I could love you better? Am i going to have to resort to blackmail? You wont sleep with me?! fuck you! I need it! And I'll get it someday. Bitch, you better believe it. I wanted to yell for help. But I was trapped. And i new things were getting worse. Knew youd be mad I didnt want to ruin things with you and your dad. He continued to harass me. I'd tell him he cant live here anymore off you and me. He says you wanna bet. I can have anything I want How bout that baby? Now Come sit on me He says if you're so worried about losing all your money. I no how to fix that. We can make porn together honey. And then maybe things wont be so bad. I've got you by the throat cant you see Come on we could be rich with that ass baby. He got angry with me Many times over the months. I didnt want to make even eye contact with him. Hid in my room until hed leave. Hed always say I'm sorry But dont you no your beautiful I cant help this feeling inside of me. Ive got you. You'll never be free He told me dont look so good. Cuz I cannot control myself. He was suppose to be at work that day. I was in my yellow t shirt dress. The baby was asleep. I was sitting on the rocking chair. I never heard the car pull up. And the door started opening. He looked at me..I new instantly. Frozen, I couldnt move. And then he stood in front of me. He said you no this dick is hard. I wont waste it on my hand today. What you wearing under those. Grabs me and says oh like I was hoping.. nothing. Whats it matter anyway You dont wear his ring He tries to put his head between my thighs as I squeeze so tight. I tell him please dont. No stop. I'll do anything. He says it's too late for that. I told you not to let me catch you like this. He holds my head into the chair. I fight him kicking and scream. But I.. I was no match I'm sorry he was bigger then me. It ended finally He told me see that wasnt so bad, no need for the squirming. Just think of me as the older version of him Not his dad You tell him, I tell him anything and everything. And when i do. After what you've done to him in the past Hed never belive a slut like you. Your truth goes down as lies Despite all ur cries Just a whore like he knows you are. Foolish girl You ready to make us some money. You sexy porn star I've been hoping hed leave you for some time. When hes gone your alone Then that's when I can make you mine. I dont care if I lose him. But i will not lose you. And if for some reason I do. I will make your life a living hell. So here, take this towel. And if theres any bruises just say you fell. I told you I always get what I want. You think you can kick me out You cannot. You started to get lippy Why wont you talk to me?! Oh your son says your kickin me out? I walked out on my own.! Fuck you! Enjoy all my threat texts on your phone. You no I'm not afraid to die. If I ever get ahold of a gun, you better run. For I have nothing to lose. I'll take everything you worked for. Those kids are better off with out you too. All yours and his dreams will be no more See you dont win, I do. Have fun picking the mess you've made, all your fault off the floor. You no good flitly little whore I no I've done you wrong my husband. But I dont want no one else. And right now I'm disgusted with him n myself Our relationship isn't perfect It needs polished. It needs cleaned. I'm the biggest problem. Just help put me back together. I cant do it by myself. My head hurts. I've cried so much. Wanna tell you everything but I dont no how to. Not ready for another fight. I feel he will tell you what hes threatened before i do. I dont have the energy just wanna be next to you Please help Dont let him control me You may not show me that you love me In all the ways i wish you would. But I feel we could get there Both got ugly pasts But your the one i want I want us to be the ones who last The things weve got threw I no we can make it But I dont blame you if you dont want to. I'm sorry baby I hope you no how much i love you Hopefully I'll come back and finish this story some day. Cuz it is far from over. But I continue to fight for myself and my family. I dont want to be a victim I want to be a survivor.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Name

    {~Name~}
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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
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    Waking up and going to sleep knowing I am safe and at peace in my own home.

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  • “Healing to me means that all these things that happened don’t have to define me.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    My Story

    I’d like to share my sexual assault story. When I think of what happened, a rush of emotions come to mind, including anger, embarrassment, insecurity, and resentment. I've been reflecting on what feelings come to the surface, and I mostly feel anger, but deeper down I have a sense of worry that maybe I didn't remember that night right, and what if I was wrong? What if he didnt do anything and my mind is making up stories? But, I can see the night it happened vividly in my head, clear enough that I'm reliving it. I really liked him, and I'm not entirely sure why, because he wasn't my type at all. We had been “talking” for maybe two weeks, right around my birthday. He was the first boy that I really ever kissed (that was non consensual too now that I think about it), and I had been really unsure about my sexuality, and if I even liked boys at all. I think that may have been the reason I gave him the time of day. I knew that he wasn’t a good guy, but I was attracted to him, so at least he was helping me figure myself out. But, he took advantage of that. I knew he only cared about my body. We would talk for hours every night, and while I was looking for someone to connect with, all he would ever talk about was having sex with me. I made it clear to him that I didn't want that, because I wanted to wait until I was ready and preferably in a relationship. He acknowledged that, but the things he would say about me proved he didn't listen. It was always “I wanna f*ck you” or “I want your body”. He sexualized every part of me, and it was like that was the only thing he could think about. I just wanted to talk to him, but I would always find myself speechless when he said these things. How was I even supposed to respond to those sexualizaing comments? “Thank you?” And it wasnt just me he said these things to, he would talk about me with our friends when I wasn't around. Making sexual comments and talking about my body and how badly he wanted me. This isn't even the worst of it. While I was catching feelings for this obviously shitty man, he was talking to one of my other friends. He told people that he was really going for her, but just messing around with me on the side. And now they're dating. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, because I didn't want to hurt the other girl he was talking to. That didn't end up mattering to me after a while. I guess I should start from the first memorable incident. It was one of my closest friends' birthdays, which is the day after mine. I remember him saying he wanted to give me some “birthday d*ck”, even though he blew me off on my birthday to hang out with the other girl. There were a couple people over at her house, including the boy and his friend. We were all sitting on her floor, and I decided to sit next to the boy, and eventually we were cuddling on her floor. Ew. I noticed immediately that he was touchy. He started feeling up and down my body, grabbing my butt, and trying to wedge his hands in between my closed legs. All of this was out in the open with our friends in the room. The birthday girl and two other people left, and it was just me, the boy, and his friend in the room. The boy said he had to talk to his friend about something and asked me to cover my ears, so I buried my head in his shoulder and covered them. I heard him say I could come back up, and when I looked back up at him he kissed me. We started kissing more, and the boy didn't seem to be bothered at all by the fact that his friend was still in the room. I'm pretty sure we kissed again while he was there, and then he left. He was the first boy I ever really kissed, and I guess I thought it was normal for him to touch me that much. The funny thing is, the friend whos house we were at said he probably would have gone all the way and had sex with me right there on the floor if I wanted to, even though the house was FULL and we were on my best friends floor, where anyone could walk in. That was just one of the many red flags I missed. Things went on that way for a few days, and whenever we hung out he would touch me. I remember one day I knocked on my friend's door, and while we were waiting to be let in he grabbed my butt. He would do that alot. He knew I didn't want to sleep with him, yet every time I was around he got closer and closer to me, touched me more and more. He would stick his hands down my pants and up my shirt, even if there were other people nearby. He wasn't good for me. I knew he was bad. I made bad decisions when it came to him, and I knew I needed to stop. So, now I'll get into the night it happened. It was a night in march, this boy didn't have a car, so I remember I snuck out of my house to pick him up from work. We were hanging out in the front of my car, and he asked if I wanted to get in the back. I knew I had to be home soon, but I said yes. We climbed back there and started kissing. His hands were everywhere. He lifted my shirt up and started taking my boobs out of my bra, and stuck his hand in my underwear. I said I was on my period so he didn't go any further. But, that didn't stop him from getting what he wanted. While we were kissing, he took out his dick from inside his pants and placed my hand on it. I thought he was grabbing my hand to be romantic, but next thing I knew I was touching a dick for the first time in my life. He guided my hand up and down and then let go. I'm not too sure on the details now, months later, but I think I moved my hand away and he moved it back. He kept guiding me like that. He put my hand up his shirt and I had to feel his nasty chest hair. After this happened, I looked at the clock and said I had to go. We got re-assembled and I drove him home. Except this time I could tell something was off. He was very quiet on the way home, and when he got out of the car he kissed me through my driver's side window before going back inside. When I was leaving, I immediately called one of my best friends and told her what happened. Honestly at that point I didn't think it was assault, and I told her I wondered if I would have actually slept with him if we had more time that night. She didn't seem concerned about what I told her either. But she was also the one who's friends with the boy. When I got home, he sent me a message that said “I don't think we should talk anymore until I figure things out with myself. I was crushed. I felt so stupid and embarassed and violated and ashamed. I knew that he had been juggling me and this other girl for some time now, and honestly I thought he was going to choose me. The constant competition really took A toll on my mental health and confidence. Of course he would choose the skinnier, prettier girl who would actually put out. I really don't understand what got into me. I knew he was terrible. I knew he didn't care about me. So why did I stay? Why did I like him in the first place? Why why did I let him hurt me??? I still don't understand that. Now, the period after he ended things was just as embarrassing. I kept waiting for him to come back to me, when he “figured things out”. I asked my friends if there was a chance he would come back to me, and even though nobody thought it, I kept hoping. The funny thing is, after he was done with me he started preying on one of my other friends, who was not interested in him at all. He said the same things about her. “I wanna f*ck her” and “shes so hot”. He didn't “like” girls, he went after them. Finally, I started to realize I didn't need him. I stopped waiting for his snaps, and started ignoring him. I started to reflect on how he treated me, and it was clear he was using me as a side piece and he only wanted my body. He didn't care about me. As time went on, he kept telling people I was obsessed with him, and that made me angry. At this point in my life I was smoking a lot of weed, mostly just to get by because every day felt hard. This boy started treating me like a drug addict and said he was concerned by how much I smoked and the decisions I was making. But this girl he wanted smoked just as much as me, and we mostly smoked together. But he only went after me for it. I started realizing he was messed up, and had no values or morals in his life. I started to think, and I realized what he did to me was not okay. I told my trusted friends about it and they agreed. However, one of my closest friends is still close with him. Just writing about this is making me feel sick. My stomach hurts, and I have a sense of unease all over my body. The next few weeks, I started to forget about him. Until one day he texted me. He rambled on about how I smoked too much weed and that eventually I'm going to get caught. He told me that he was concerned for me because I was important to one of my friends, which means it's important to him. Not even that he cared for himself, just that he cared because someone else did. I was furious. He had no right to tell me i'm being irresponsible when the only thing he talked about when I met him was how many drugs he did on a daily basis. And about this “other friend”, I remember a specific instance where I picked her and another friend up from their houses, and we went to our spot to smoke. She told the boy we were there, and he pulled up. MY two friends got out of my car, got into his, and left. They all left me alone to go hangout with someone else (this other person they were going to hangout with also has two separate rape allegations, one of the victims attends my school). Again, I was furious. Especially after I told this friend that he assaulted me, she left me alone without even a second thought. This wasn't the first time this happened either, she blew our entire friend group off multiple times to hangout with the boy who assaulted me. Going forward, I started forgetting more and more about him. I talked to other people, and eventually found my current boyfriend. One day, me and my boyfriend had planned to meet my friends at our spot- a waterfall and park in town. The “other friend” asked me if it was okay if the boy and his friend were going there too, and I hesitantly said yes. Obviously I was a little uncomfortable with my boyfriend and assaulter being in the same place. But he was eager to meet the man, because I had already told him about it. Plus, my boyfriend was drunk. When we got there he couldn't even walk. I had to walk up to my friend who was in the car with the boy and ask them for a lighter, in which they all ignored me. We waited in the parking lot for a while for the boy and his friends to walk down to the falls, but they never did. Then, My friend comes over to me and says the boy is uncomfortable because my boyfriend was drunk and he didnt wanna see him fall off the rocks or hurt on the path down to our spot. I was furious that she came up to ME and told me that my ASSAULTER was uncomfortable?! Absolutely not. She said it right in front of my boyfriend too, and tried to pull me aside like he wasn’t there. I looked right at her and said “oh? HE’S uncomfortable???” and walked away. My other friend and my boyfriend walked down to the falls with me. We noticed no one else out of our large group followed, and the IRONY is that they went to drive to a friend's house to GET ALCOHOL! They left and never came back. I was so mad, and for good reason! The thing about me is that I HATE being mad at people, and even though I had a full right to be upset, I still felt bad. But neither my friend nor the boy were “uncomfortable” with my boyfriend being drunk. They had left us many times before to drink and drive, which is especially dangerous. He was probably uncomfortable that I even had a boyfriend, because I found someone better than him. The rest of the afternoon was awkward, because all of my friends left except for one. So she had to third wheel me and my boyfriend. We ended up going out and having fun, but it makes me so angry that that happened. When I was at prom, I kept seeing my friend go over and talk to him and his girlfriend. I tried to stay away whenever possible, but I went over and tapped her on the shoulder a few times when she was over there. I even talked to his girlfriend once or twice, but didnt say anything to him. I hate being around him, I hate him, I hate him so much. Looking back at all of this, I'm ashamed that I ever talked to this boy. But, he also took advantage of me. Even though sometimes I have doubts, I have a right to be angry at him. And even though I never thought it would be me, I'm a part of the 1 and 6 women now.

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  • “I have learned to abound in the joy of the small things...and God, the kindness of people. Strangers, teachers, friends. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but there is good in the world, and this gives me hope too.”

    Welcome to Our Wave.

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

    What feels like the right place to start today?
    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    It Started with my Brother

    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.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇨🇦

    Yes, please. I want him caught.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    #121

    It took me years to come to terms with what was really happening. When I was 9 years old, I met a boy online, and we quickly became friends. We knew everything about each other - He was 15 when we first met. When I was 10 and he was 16, he asked to be my boyfriend. Being a naive 10 year old girl I said yes. I can’t be mad at her for that. It was innocent at first. Just what you’d expect from a childhood relationship - “I love you, goodnight.” “Hope you’re doing okay.” “Let’s play some games together!” The only difference was that one of us were nearly an adult. Someone who should have known better to not even THINK about being romantically involved with a 10 year old girl. However, it went sour. He started talking to me about sexual subjects. Stuff I wasn’t at all familiar with. He’d make us roleplay situations, what he’d do to me if he got ahold of me in real life. Asking for photos. Guilt tripping me for seeming “off” or uninterested. I began to feel distressed at the time, but I was so young, that wasn’t really an emotion I had felt before. I told myself, this sick feeling must be love. That must be why I feel so nervous, why I feel knots in my stomach when I see his name pop up on my screen. I was very attached to him, at least I thought I was. I was always picked on in school and the few friends I had were awful to me, so he was my only real friend. My worst fear was somehow losing him, and he must have known that I thought that. He took advantage of that, and would guilt trip me at any opportunity to make sure I did whatever he wanted me to. After a while, he broke up with me, but we were still very much so “friends”. We would talk everyday, and he was still just as inappropriate and creepy with me as he was before. Throughout the years, he would begin to talk to me about worse and worse stuff. He explicitly told me about his attraction to children, and that he worked as a teaching assistant in a primary school. I tried to brush it off and keep it at the back of my mind, but I got to tipping point last year when he started to pressure me into meeting with him in real life. It went on for 7 years. I hate to say it, and it makes me sad for the little girl that I was, but the rest of my childhood was stolen from me. I’m 17 now, about the same age he was when we met. The thought of EVER saying the stuff to a 10,11,12 year old that he did makes me feel physically ill. I still haven’t fully processed what happened to me, but I’ve been working on it. I’m yet to cry, at least properly, about it. The thing that sucks about this is that this went on for so long, that it felt completely normal. The people in my life who know all cried when I told them. It felt unfair, really - that they could cry about it. And I’m just stuck in a mindset I’m desperately trying to get out of where this is normal, and I feel completely numb. Recently, I decided I wanted to do something about it. I went to the police. This night, I sent off old screenshots of conversations between us to a detective working on my case. It’s terrifying, being that vulnerable. But I feel obligated to do it. The thought of him being around children all day makes me sick. I don’t care if he doesn’t go to prison - as long as he’s never near a child again I’ll be happy. That’s why I’m doing it. I won’t let shame and embarrassment stop me from doing this, and I especially won’t let my brain tell me he doesn’t deserve punishment. Because that’s exactly what he’d want me to think, too.

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    K

    I had an aunt who had a son here in America. We were pretty close since our families only had each other here so we would go over to their house often. I was around 5 so he was like 7 or 8. We would play around the house while our parents talked and I remember us being in his parents room playing with some dinosaur figures one day when he closed the door and told me to go into the closet with him. I did and he shut the closet doors and started to tell me to do weird things like licking his hands and he would touch my privates. I cant remember exactly what else happened that day but I remember knowing it was wrong but I couldn't bring myself to tell my mom because I had done the things he told me to do. To be honest, I had forgotten everything until I went to Mexico for the first time and when I saw him, I suddenly remembered this day. I hate that I cant remember everything that happened and if it had happened more than once on separate occasions. I also hate that I'm scared of him and I don't know if he remembers. I haven't seen him since that day but it didn't seem like he felt awkward around me. I resent him so much because I have become hyper sexual but I feel sad because I wonder how he even knew this stuff. Was someone doing these things to him? I have only told my ex best friend and current best friend... I want to tell my mom, I know she will believe me, but I feel like it's already been so long that it won't change anything. I am now 19 and don't want to start any family drama. What should I do?

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    Major Sexual Harassment

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

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  • “These moments in time, my brokenness, has been transformed into a mission. My voice used to help others. My experiences making an impact. I now choose to see power, strength, and even beauty in my story.”

    “I really hope sharing my story will help others in one way or another and I can certainly say that it will help me be more open with my story.”

    Story
    From a survivor
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    Fuck university

    My story started back when I was 16/17 years old. I was working in a restaurant, and had a crush on my older boss. When I say older, I mean 35. I thought I was all grown up even though I was just a baby, and he had no problem taking advantage. What happened to me over the course of approximately a year and a half haunts and horrified me. It all culminated in me attempting suicide right after I turned 18. Then I got help, and went away to college. This was supposed to be my fresh start. Sadly it did not turn out that way. I met a monster, a person that follows me around in my nightmares and wakes me from a deep sleep every night when I dream of his face. I was still innocent, and I thought that he loved me. Instead, he put a baby in me and beat and raped me so viciously when he found out that I thought I was going to die from the amount of blood. I miscarried, and fell apart once again. I was just 18 still. I attempted suicide once more, landing me in a hellish mental hospital. I was stripped of all my clothing, and all of my choices. I was in pain that whole summer, and had severe panic attacks that were so bad I got fired from my job and needed medical attention every time they would happen. I was unable to attend classes for a year and a half. My monster kept showing up, now in the form of triggers. A white hat, the scent of cologne, even a particular tone of voice. In all this, the campus police made me feel like it was my fault. I know that no one on earth would ask for this. If it was my fault, and I asked for it, why am I still dying in pain every day three years later?

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • Healing is not linear. It is different for everyone. It is important that we stay patient with ourselves when setbacks occur in our process. Forgive yourself for everything that may go wrong along the way.

    “Healing is different for everyone, but for me it is listening to myself...I make sure to take some time out of each week to put me first and practice self-care.”

    “You are the author of your own story. Your story is yours and yours alone despite your experiences.”

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

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    Name

    {~Name~}
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  • “Healing to me means that all these things that happened don’t have to define me.”

    “I have learned to abound in the joy of the small things...and God, the kindness of people. Strangers, teachers, friends. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but there is good in the world, and this gives me hope too.”

    Story
    From a survivor
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    YOUR PROTECTORS BECOME ABUSERS .

    HELLO PEOPLE , its nice we can share our stories over here . So im a 19 year old girl from india who has a very typical indian family of four , me my little brother, mother and father . So my story is , my father used to physically abuse my mother since i was some months old , it started . he beat her over silly reasons . then when i gradually grew up and reached class 1 i was 6or 7 years old at that time , my father made me study for an entrance exam for class 6th and the syllabus was all of class 6th and 7th 9(to be noted that i was in class 1 at that point) . so my father made me study high level subjects of class 6th when i was still in class 1 which was a very tough job for me . i couldnt understand anything , and then my father used to beat me . he never let me play with friends , go out , in short he never let me have my childhood as childhood . he was always very extremely focused on my studies but forgot that i was still a child . We lived far from my father's village where my grandmother lived so in every summer vacations he used to take me and kept me there in the village where he would give me tution classes for the examination prep so i never got to enjoy my vacations . When was home , again the same thing , study and watch domestic violence at home . i always had to hear really abusive words which as a child i got traumatized . so when i was in class 2 , my mother got into an extramarital affair which i found out eventually and i hated my mother for that i was very shameful and i wanted to tell my father about this but i didnt . eventually my father found out and i remember that day when he beat her so much after he catch her red handed . It was a divorce situation but even then they stayed. my mother was no more into affair stuff but still i hated her . i wished she would die . later as i grew up the violence continued at home where i had to stop them both , physical abuse , abusive words and everything continued . it was really toxic . they both used to abuse me and my brother verbally with words like slut , Name and any abusive slangs you can think of . this is to be noted that my mother was also not very decent or you can say nice , she didnt do household chores at time , didnt made food on time , was extremely lazy (to be noted that my father helped her in everything ) but she didnt cuz she was ill manned to be honest . and so all of this continues and when i was in 1 i had my first boyfriend and my parents found out and they kind of accepted it at the first so when i appeared for 10th boards , i scored a 90.2 percent despite being in love and stuff but my parents where not happy infact they shamed me for my result (to be noted that they have never been satisfied by my results even if i score the full marks or become the topper they just always compare me with other children which made my self esteem and confidence shatter ) . they blamed me and my love affair for the 90.2 percent i scored which was too less for them because i was not the topper , the topper was at 93 . and now im in college , 3 years have passed by after that result but still they abuse and compare me for my 90.2 percent . i attempted suicide twice but i survived and they dont know bout this . i always get suicidal thoughts . they have never given me any privacy , they take control of everything , dont let me go out , visit a friend , talk to a friend over call . its suffocating . now im 19 and im again preparing for an exam , they have continued they abuse , domestic violence and everything . they make me hear for anything i eat , they have locked me up in a room where i have a laptop and study and sit here the whole day . they verablly abuse me a lot . some days ago i had a packet of noodles when i was hungry because my mom hadn't prepared food and it was very late and my mom found out that i ate noodles and she called me slut and other slangs infront of all neighbours . they always have been toxic . please mind that i have no problem studying . but i dont think something which takes away your entire childhood from you is not worth it . So my entire teenage and childhood was destroyed . i dont know how my adulthood would go because they wont let me live they are always here to pull me down . i wish i could just die .

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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    As I grew older, I realized that my mother was a toxic parent.

    This story contains descriptions of self-harm and suicidal thoughts. Please be aware of this. I am a single, HSP-afflicted freelancer. I am currently 38 years old. Like many people my age, my mother was violent when angry. She also broke things, accusing me of misbehaving, such as tearing down all the posters of my favorite idols that were hanging in my room. When she wasn't angry with me or my sister, she would repeatedly smash the frying pan she was using to cook food into the sink if the food burned or if she accidentally dropped a glass, or she would smash even chipped cups and plates. She would then run out of the house, often not knowing when she would return. I remember feeling lonely even as a child. When I was 13, after my mother broke a plate and ran out as usual, I couldn't bear it any longer and used the broken pieces to self-harm. I cut myself deeply on my arm. I think I told my mother I'd fallen, but the scars I still see today clearly couldn't have been caused by that. It wasn't until I turned 36 that I realized the abnormal relationship between my mother and me. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, we've had a series of unfortunate events in the family. My mother, who should be over 60, has a terrible ability to control her emotions and has no boundaries with me, her daughter. Gradually, I realized that my childhood environment was strange, and that the physical and emotional scars were deeper than I'd realized. It may sound unbelievable, but until recently, I didn't think my self-harm was a big deal. I'd barely thought about these scars in my life. I didn't hide them, but I'd spent decades without telling anyone. My mother and I were close, and we'd talk about anything, so now I'm really suffering. I've always been told by family and friends that I was quick to anger and had a tendency to get angry, which really bothered me, and I've struggled with my relationships. I've tried to understand why I was the way I was, reading various books, researching online, and trying to change my personality. So I really can't forgive my mother for taking out her anger on her children despite being a grown adult, for breaking things, for running away from home on a daily basis, and for laughing at my personality for decades, calling it weird. More than anything, I feel like my life is irreparable, and I can't bear the frustration. If I had realized my mother's abnormal side sooner, I think my personality and the way I build relationships would have been different. I'm in the midst of a flood of emotions. When I have more free time from my freelance work, I often think that being a Shin would be nice. It's a bit disorganized, but I'd be happy if it could be of some use to someone.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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    #708

    Im sorry for being graphic i will try my best to keep it pg and I apologise for the length. I only really learned that I had been assaulted years after it happened and I had casually told a friend. I was in country on a year abroad. Me and a guy "friend" went into a bigger city for shopping. Once we got back to our town he invited me for a drink in his house. I saw nothing sinister about it. Until he started being very sexual and he took out his member and started playing with himself. I was very uncomfortable. He forced it into my mouth and it choked me. I was so scared I pushed him off and I ran out of his house. Didn't even bother taking my shopping bags. Bever spoke to him again. He didn't understand why I ignored him after that. I didn't really process it as oral rape until a friend years later told me it was. That happened in year. I had never understood why my depression started in country and i fell into drug addiction to cope. It was because of that. Still to this day i have trauma with giving oral sex to my partner. Thankfully he is very supportive. Another story of mine is I was good friends with a guy as his girlfriend was one of my best friends. In year they broke up for a short time and he came over to my house. I had been friends with him for 2 years at this stage. We watched a movie and it was fine. Until I said I was going to bed. He begged me to let him stay in the bed with me as he missed cuddling someone. I felt uncomfortable and in my gut I knew it wasn't right. I ignored it anyway thinking it was harmless. He proceeded to try it on with me and I told him no over and over as I was dating someone. I eventually gave up saying no as I knew it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't listen. He coerced me into it so I just let it happen. I felt awful about the whole thing and I confided in a friend. I didn't tell my other friend (the girlfriend) it happened as I just wanted to move on. They got back together. But after the whole thing I had a crisis admission to hospital to deal with with it. Fast forward 5 months later. The friend I confided in and told the girlfriend what happened and they both called me telling me I should go to the guards. I didn't want to. I wanted to move on. I didn't see a point as it wasn't forced rape. It was coercion. They eventually thought just because I didn't want to go to the guards that I was lying about the whole thing. It breaks my heart that she is still with him and tells everyone that I lied about it and that I will try and steal everyone's man. This is the thing about being a survivor of assault that everyone makes you think it was all in your head when you know it wasn't. No one else was there. He knows what he did and so do I. He even sent me a text a few weeks later after it happened apologising for what he did. I still keep the screenshot of the message just in case. Thank you for reading my stories. I want everyone to know that we will get through it. It makes us stronger people. And always stay true to yourself. We are survivors. Thank you for letting me share my story

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    Escaping Inmate #

    A letter to my Hudband, I have yet to give him. My husbands father came to live with us after he got out of prison. He is finally out of the house, after a year, but not before fully taking advantage of me. I am younger and thought that he had turned good.. but he continued to sell drugs. He got close to me in the begging and I trusted him. I didnt have a dad growing up that was there all the time. I thought he was safe. He collected information and then holds it over my head and threatens me with violence and blackmail. He continuously harasses me, always touching inappropriately, making commitments no family member should to another. I kept telling my husband I wanted him out for months. But he delayed it. Eventually the tension grew between me and my father in law. He stole my phone and sent nude pictures of myself to him along with text messages, to use it against me saying see she did this. Fortunately I have proff it was him doing so from a text admitting it. He ended up raping me. And he knows I won't say anything because of the blackmail and threats. I've told a friend and I have went to the dr. But i have not filed any type of charges. I'm still to scared to. I still havent been able to tell my husband and wake up sick to my stomach everyday. But heres what I wrote but cant find the strength to give it to him. Today his dad is supposed to leave the state but i think he wants to ruin everything with my kids and husband before he does. So today I am scared, trapped. Here it is: I wanted to tell you I've hated myself Sick to my stomach from my own bad decisions Made someone one else see how small I was And he preyed on me I was taken advantage of I trusted when I shouldnt of I wanted to run to you so many times But I couldnt find the words And I didnt want any of our progress to go backwards At first I felt I was safe from him That he would never do anything to hurt you or me He slowly manipulated me And he made me trust him He made comments about how you would never truly love me constantly He told me his secrets And then he began to push and shove me He told me time and again that you say I got pregnant on purpose so you wouldnt leave And threw the last couple years I've heard it again and again He peeled back my layers I felt I could let some things out But I wish I never would of Should of gone another route Hed say.. What am I going to have to do to sleep with you? You no I could love you better? Am i going to have to resort to blackmail? You wont sleep with me?! fuck you! I need it! And I'll get it someday. Bitch, you better believe it. I wanted to yell for help. But I was trapped. And i new things were getting worse. Knew youd be mad I didnt want to ruin things with you and your dad. He continued to harass me. I'd tell him he cant live here anymore off you and me. He says you wanna bet. I can have anything I want How bout that baby? Now Come sit on me He says if you're so worried about losing all your money. I no how to fix that. We can make porn together honey. And then maybe things wont be so bad. I've got you by the throat cant you see Come on we could be rich with that ass baby. He got angry with me Many times over the months. I didnt want to make even eye contact with him. Hid in my room until hed leave. Hed always say I'm sorry But dont you no your beautiful I cant help this feeling inside of me. Ive got you. You'll never be free He told me dont look so good. Cuz I cannot control myself. He was suppose to be at work that day. I was in my yellow t shirt dress. The baby was asleep. I was sitting on the rocking chair. I never heard the car pull up. And the door started opening. He looked at me..I new instantly. Frozen, I couldnt move. And then he stood in front of me. He said you no this dick is hard. I wont waste it on my hand today. What you wearing under those. Grabs me and says oh like I was hoping.. nothing. Whats it matter anyway You dont wear his ring He tries to put his head between my thighs as I squeeze so tight. I tell him please dont. No stop. I'll do anything. He says it's too late for that. I told you not to let me catch you like this. He holds my head into the chair. I fight him kicking and scream. But I.. I was no match I'm sorry he was bigger then me. It ended finally He told me see that wasnt so bad, no need for the squirming. Just think of me as the older version of him Not his dad You tell him, I tell him anything and everything. And when i do. After what you've done to him in the past Hed never belive a slut like you. Your truth goes down as lies Despite all ur cries Just a whore like he knows you are. Foolish girl You ready to make us some money. You sexy porn star I've been hoping hed leave you for some time. When hes gone your alone Then that's when I can make you mine. I dont care if I lose him. But i will not lose you. And if for some reason I do. I will make your life a living hell. So here, take this towel. And if theres any bruises just say you fell. I told you I always get what I want. You think you can kick me out You cannot. You started to get lippy Why wont you talk to me?! Oh your son says your kickin me out? I walked out on my own.! Fuck you! Enjoy all my threat texts on your phone. You no I'm not afraid to die. If I ever get ahold of a gun, you better run. For I have nothing to lose. I'll take everything you worked for. Those kids are better off with out you too. All yours and his dreams will be no more See you dont win, I do. Have fun picking the mess you've made, all your fault off the floor. You no good flitly little whore I no I've done you wrong my husband. But I dont want no one else. And right now I'm disgusted with him n myself Our relationship isn't perfect It needs polished. It needs cleaned. I'm the biggest problem. Just help put me back together. I cant do it by myself. My head hurts. I've cried so much. Wanna tell you everything but I dont no how to. Not ready for another fight. I feel he will tell you what hes threatened before i do. I dont have the energy just wanna be next to you Please help Dont let him control me You may not show me that you love me In all the ways i wish you would. But I feel we could get there Both got ugly pasts But your the one i want I want us to be the ones who last The things weve got threw I no we can make it But I dont blame you if you dont want to. I'm sorry baby I hope you no how much i love you Hopefully I'll come back and finish this story some day. Cuz it is far from over. But I continue to fight for myself and my family. I dont want to be a victim I want to be a survivor.

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
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    Waking up and going to sleep knowing I am safe and at peace in my own home.

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    From a survivor
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    My Story

    I’d like to share my sexual assault story. When I think of what happened, a rush of emotions come to mind, including anger, embarrassment, insecurity, and resentment. I've been reflecting on what feelings come to the surface, and I mostly feel anger, but deeper down I have a sense of worry that maybe I didn't remember that night right, and what if I was wrong? What if he didnt do anything and my mind is making up stories? But, I can see the night it happened vividly in my head, clear enough that I'm reliving it. I really liked him, and I'm not entirely sure why, because he wasn't my type at all. We had been “talking” for maybe two weeks, right around my birthday. He was the first boy that I really ever kissed (that was non consensual too now that I think about it), and I had been really unsure about my sexuality, and if I even liked boys at all. I think that may have been the reason I gave him the time of day. I knew that he wasn’t a good guy, but I was attracted to him, so at least he was helping me figure myself out. But, he took advantage of that. I knew he only cared about my body. We would talk for hours every night, and while I was looking for someone to connect with, all he would ever talk about was having sex with me. I made it clear to him that I didn't want that, because I wanted to wait until I was ready and preferably in a relationship. He acknowledged that, but the things he would say about me proved he didn't listen. It was always “I wanna f*ck you” or “I want your body”. He sexualized every part of me, and it was like that was the only thing he could think about. I just wanted to talk to him, but I would always find myself speechless when he said these things. How was I even supposed to respond to those sexualizaing comments? “Thank you?” And it wasnt just me he said these things to, he would talk about me with our friends when I wasn't around. Making sexual comments and talking about my body and how badly he wanted me. This isn't even the worst of it. While I was catching feelings for this obviously shitty man, he was talking to one of my other friends. He told people that he was really going for her, but just messing around with me on the side. And now they're dating. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, because I didn't want to hurt the other girl he was talking to. That didn't end up mattering to me after a while. I guess I should start from the first memorable incident. It was one of my closest friends' birthdays, which is the day after mine. I remember him saying he wanted to give me some “birthday d*ck”, even though he blew me off on my birthday to hang out with the other girl. There were a couple people over at her house, including the boy and his friend. We were all sitting on her floor, and I decided to sit next to the boy, and eventually we were cuddling on her floor. Ew. I noticed immediately that he was touchy. He started feeling up and down my body, grabbing my butt, and trying to wedge his hands in between my closed legs. All of this was out in the open with our friends in the room. The birthday girl and two other people left, and it was just me, the boy, and his friend in the room. The boy said he had to talk to his friend about something and asked me to cover my ears, so I buried my head in his shoulder and covered them. I heard him say I could come back up, and when I looked back up at him he kissed me. We started kissing more, and the boy didn't seem to be bothered at all by the fact that his friend was still in the room. I'm pretty sure we kissed again while he was there, and then he left. He was the first boy I ever really kissed, and I guess I thought it was normal for him to touch me that much. The funny thing is, the friend whos house we were at said he probably would have gone all the way and had sex with me right there on the floor if I wanted to, even though the house was FULL and we were on my best friends floor, where anyone could walk in. That was just one of the many red flags I missed. Things went on that way for a few days, and whenever we hung out he would touch me. I remember one day I knocked on my friend's door, and while we were waiting to be let in he grabbed my butt. He would do that alot. He knew I didn't want to sleep with him, yet every time I was around he got closer and closer to me, touched me more and more. He would stick his hands down my pants and up my shirt, even if there were other people nearby. He wasn't good for me. I knew he was bad. I made bad decisions when it came to him, and I knew I needed to stop. So, now I'll get into the night it happened. It was a night in march, this boy didn't have a car, so I remember I snuck out of my house to pick him up from work. We were hanging out in the front of my car, and he asked if I wanted to get in the back. I knew I had to be home soon, but I said yes. We climbed back there and started kissing. His hands were everywhere. He lifted my shirt up and started taking my boobs out of my bra, and stuck his hand in my underwear. I said I was on my period so he didn't go any further. But, that didn't stop him from getting what he wanted. While we were kissing, he took out his dick from inside his pants and placed my hand on it. I thought he was grabbing my hand to be romantic, but next thing I knew I was touching a dick for the first time in my life. He guided my hand up and down and then let go. I'm not too sure on the details now, months later, but I think I moved my hand away and he moved it back. He kept guiding me like that. He put my hand up his shirt and I had to feel his nasty chest hair. After this happened, I looked at the clock and said I had to go. We got re-assembled and I drove him home. Except this time I could tell something was off. He was very quiet on the way home, and when he got out of the car he kissed me through my driver's side window before going back inside. When I was leaving, I immediately called one of my best friends and told her what happened. Honestly at that point I didn't think it was assault, and I told her I wondered if I would have actually slept with him if we had more time that night. She didn't seem concerned about what I told her either. But she was also the one who's friends with the boy. When I got home, he sent me a message that said “I don't think we should talk anymore until I figure things out with myself. I was crushed. I felt so stupid and embarassed and violated and ashamed. I knew that he had been juggling me and this other girl for some time now, and honestly I thought he was going to choose me. The constant competition really took A toll on my mental health and confidence. Of course he would choose the skinnier, prettier girl who would actually put out. I really don't understand what got into me. I knew he was terrible. I knew he didn't care about me. So why did I stay? Why did I like him in the first place? Why why did I let him hurt me??? I still don't understand that. Now, the period after he ended things was just as embarrassing. I kept waiting for him to come back to me, when he “figured things out”. I asked my friends if there was a chance he would come back to me, and even though nobody thought it, I kept hoping. The funny thing is, after he was done with me he started preying on one of my other friends, who was not interested in him at all. He said the same things about her. “I wanna f*ck her” and “shes so hot”. He didn't “like” girls, he went after them. Finally, I started to realize I didn't need him. I stopped waiting for his snaps, and started ignoring him. I started to reflect on how he treated me, and it was clear he was using me as a side piece and he only wanted my body. He didn't care about me. As time went on, he kept telling people I was obsessed with him, and that made me angry. At this point in my life I was smoking a lot of weed, mostly just to get by because every day felt hard. This boy started treating me like a drug addict and said he was concerned by how much I smoked and the decisions I was making. But this girl he wanted smoked just as much as me, and we mostly smoked together. But he only went after me for it. I started realizing he was messed up, and had no values or morals in his life. I started to think, and I realized what he did to me was not okay. I told my trusted friends about it and they agreed. However, one of my closest friends is still close with him. Just writing about this is making me feel sick. My stomach hurts, and I have a sense of unease all over my body. The next few weeks, I started to forget about him. Until one day he texted me. He rambled on about how I smoked too much weed and that eventually I'm going to get caught. He told me that he was concerned for me because I was important to one of my friends, which means it's important to him. Not even that he cared for himself, just that he cared because someone else did. I was furious. He had no right to tell me i'm being irresponsible when the only thing he talked about when I met him was how many drugs he did on a daily basis. And about this “other friend”, I remember a specific instance where I picked her and another friend up from their houses, and we went to our spot to smoke. She told the boy we were there, and he pulled up. MY two friends got out of my car, got into his, and left. They all left me alone to go hangout with someone else (this other person they were going to hangout with also has two separate rape allegations, one of the victims attends my school). Again, I was furious. Especially after I told this friend that he assaulted me, she left me alone without even a second thought. This wasn't the first time this happened either, she blew our entire friend group off multiple times to hangout with the boy who assaulted me. Going forward, I started forgetting more and more about him. I talked to other people, and eventually found my current boyfriend. One day, me and my boyfriend had planned to meet my friends at our spot- a waterfall and park in town. The “other friend” asked me if it was okay if the boy and his friend were going there too, and I hesitantly said yes. Obviously I was a little uncomfortable with my boyfriend and assaulter being in the same place. But he was eager to meet the man, because I had already told him about it. Plus, my boyfriend was drunk. When we got there he couldn't even walk. I had to walk up to my friend who was in the car with the boy and ask them for a lighter, in which they all ignored me. We waited in the parking lot for a while for the boy and his friends to walk down to the falls, but they never did. Then, My friend comes over to me and says the boy is uncomfortable because my boyfriend was drunk and he didnt wanna see him fall off the rocks or hurt on the path down to our spot. I was furious that she came up to ME and told me that my ASSAULTER was uncomfortable?! Absolutely not. She said it right in front of my boyfriend too, and tried to pull me aside like he wasn’t there. I looked right at her and said “oh? HE’S uncomfortable???” and walked away. My other friend and my boyfriend walked down to the falls with me. We noticed no one else out of our large group followed, and the IRONY is that they went to drive to a friend's house to GET ALCOHOL! They left and never came back. I was so mad, and for good reason! The thing about me is that I HATE being mad at people, and even though I had a full right to be upset, I still felt bad. But neither my friend nor the boy were “uncomfortable” with my boyfriend being drunk. They had left us many times before to drink and drive, which is especially dangerous. He was probably uncomfortable that I even had a boyfriend, because I found someone better than him. The rest of the afternoon was awkward, because all of my friends left except for one. So she had to third wheel me and my boyfriend. We ended up going out and having fun, but it makes me so angry that that happened. When I was at prom, I kept seeing my friend go over and talk to him and his girlfriend. I tried to stay away whenever possible, but I went over and tapped her on the shoulder a few times when she was over there. I even talked to his girlfriend once or twice, but didnt say anything to him. I hate being around him, I hate him, I hate him so much. Looking back at all of this, I'm ashamed that I ever talked to this boy. But, he also took advantage of me. Even though sometimes I have doubts, I have a right to be angry at him. And even though I never thought it would be me, I'm a part of the 1 and 6 women now.

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