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In September I moved to Costa Rica for a few months, and in October happened to meet a really great guy here. We were just starting to date and it was going well, but I left to my home country Finland for Christmas and stayed almost 2 months. During this time I was out with two friends, drank too much and lost memory, and woke up with the other friend next to me naked in my bed.. I had thought of him as a good friend, although we had just met the summer before. He supported me when I had issues with a narcissistic ex, and I actually tried to help him get back with his wife which he did for a while. Even that night that we were out, I was trying to hook my friends up with other women. I had no will or intention to sleep with him.. So when I woke up like that I was shocked, I was worried, I felt guilty for not remembering and possibly hurting the guy in Costa Rica... The more I thought about it the more I realised if something had happened it was not with my consent because I never wanted that with him :( I was so worried and took a morning after pill, even though my 'friend' claims he didn't do anything. He would have 'felt it' he said.... And he was kind of joking about it :( He claimed we had been jealous of each other during the night and kissed many times. Which I just find strange because I wouldn't want that... and I remember nothing. Anyways I took the pill and even got a period around my exact cycle 15 days later... Now I'm back to Costa Rica to be with the guy who is actually so good to me and who I was really starting to like a lot... And few days ago find out that I am pregnant :( And the timing is exactly around that night... atleast the doctor says.. Seeming that something HAD happened after all made me feel so violated :( I was definitely in no condition to give consent.... this 'friend' has already 2 children from 2 different women.. I felt so terrible, I never wanted a child this way, I wanted it with the man I was dating :( And it is too late to have an abortion since it is illegal in Costa Rica, and now that I have already heard the heartbeat and seen the embryo in Ultra sound... I just couldn't :( And my new partner here is now 'thinking things over'.. obviously it's a shock and a lot :( But I am now dealing with a very possible break up, knowing my consent and body were violated by someone I thought of as a friend, facing single parenthood.. :( Has anyone had any similar experiences and could share me some advice on how to deal with the emotions? :(

If there's one thing that I've come to understand about survivors, one thing many of us have in common, it's that we weren't equipped with the language to understand that what happened to us was a specific crime or immoral action. We knew it was wrong because of the visceral, bodily reactions we had, but we didn't have a reliable way to describe why our bodies did that. We questioned ourselves in the absence of safety to question the experiences. We stayed quiet many times because we doubted anyone would listen if we screamed. By the time I found out that what had happened to me was a crime, the statute of limitations had long since passed. I knew all too well that in a place like my home state, where I grew up in high-control religion, more people would worry about ruining a bright young man's future than about the nightmare I lived in. I thought about pursuing a criminal case, but it was such a brief thought and shut down so quickly by my own conviction and insistence that nobody would listen to me. It happened on the love seat in the living room of my parents' house, with my whole family downstairs, and I hadn't screamed out then because I knew, sick beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I would be painted as the reason it happened. I would be questioned about what I'd done to lead him on and make him think it was okay to do that to me. If I couldn't have cried out to my own family, what made me think I could cry out to the courts and be heard? I try to come on here when I think about how it messed me up. I try to come here and make a few encouraging posts, uplift other people who may not have anyone who sees them as they are. Recently I had this incredible moment out in public, at this craft supply thrift store in my hometown. A teenager came in with her battered guitar case and her dad, who hovered at the edges of the store to let her browse for patches and embellishments for the guitar case. I ended up chatting with them, and halfway through the conversation I saw her scars. Before I left, I told her that the real secret of learning an instrument is that it has to sound noisy and terrible before it can sound good. "Don't be mad at yourself when it sounds noisy and terrible," I told her, laughing as I said it. "It has to do that first before it can sound good!" I cried the whole way home thinking about how I'd been that teenager once. I had needed someone to say something kind to me, to see me and offer me something warm and genuine, and I didn't have anyone. I tell you all of this just to say: Keep going. If you can't do it for yourself, don't do it for me. Do it for the small reasons that make you smile and cry bittersweet tears all the way home. Do it so you can offer to someone else what you didn't get yourself. Do it because it would feel amazing to outlive the person who hurt you. Do it because they would hate to see you thriving, and it's not wrong to be petty and thrive just to drive them nuts. There is no stupid reason to keep going. I'm in this for the long haul because I like living, and I especially like living so that I can prove wrong everyone who thought I wouldn't make it this far, including myself. No stupid reasons to keep going here. So keep going.

March 15 — The Day I paid my rapist. I was 18 years old. I was a virgin. It was March 15, and I was so excited because I was going to get my first tattoo. I had chosen two phrases with deep biblical meanings: Tattoo Details I had no idea that I would leave that day feeling as though my dignity had been taken from me, having paid the very man who raped me. I didn't know what I was walking into. I didn't say the word “no,” but I did say, “I have to go. I have to go. I have to go.” I kept saying it, but he wouldn't let me leave. He pushed me against the counter and pulled down my sweatpants, my leggings, and then my underwear. He penetrated me with his penis while touching my vagina with his other hand. I didn't know what to do. I was frozen, terrified, and completely overwhelmed. It was just the two of us. There were no cameras, no one else around, and I felt like there was no one who could help me if I called for help. There was a baseball bat in the corner, and I was beyond scared. I have always had a fear of men because of things I experienced in the past. Imagine how terrifying it was to find myself in a situation where I felt so powerless. He didn't stop until I said, “I'll come back later.” In that moment, I thought those words were my only hope—my only way out. I wasn't thinking about what I wanted to say or what I should have done. I was trying to find a way to get out of that situation. He finally pulled my pants back up, but before he did, he slapped my butt and grabbed my vagina. And then I left. I had gone there excited to get my first tattoo, choosing words that meant so much to my faith. I never imagined that I would walk away carrying the weight of an experience I never wanted and never deserved. I had just paid my rapist. Needless to say, you broke me. You broke me in more ways than one. I don’t think I will ever fully recover from what you did to me. It has simply become a part of my story one I never asked for and never deserved. I lost myself. I haven’t been able to look at myself the same way since. I don’t know how to love myself anymore. Some days, I don’t even know who ******* is. I lost a piece of me that I feel like I will never get back. I blamed myself for something that was never my fault. I went to get a tattoo, but I left without my dignity. I paid for a tattoo, but in reality, I paid my rapist. This is my story. I am a survivor.

I could never remember my childhood well, even as a kid. But I started to be hypersexual at 3, and so thats when I believe me and my brother started touching (hes 3 and a half years older). When I was 12 I remembered and told my parents, my mom freaked out and screamed at me. She said it was my fault and that it wasn't too bad if I didn't tell anyone. I fear thats she's right. When I was 14 and in deep psychosis, I felt like there was more to remember. I started to feel my brother's hands over my body and mouth. I remembered us having sex 3 times. The first time when I was 6 and the last when I was 8. One of those times he was hitting me and pinning me. I dont know how real those memories are because I recovered them in psychosis. I started doing really bad cus all I could think about was me and my brother fucking. A couple of months ago I remembered my brother fucking me with his hands around my neck (which was painful). Im so scared that really happened because I see my brother daily and hes my best friend. Im worried ill remember more.

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