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I still don’t know if my abuse counts. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t. Or maybe that’s what I want to think. When I was 10, I was at my (at the time) best friend’s birthday party. I can’t remember much of the party itself, only that I had a white cardigan on. I remember the air smelled likes churros and popcorn. I can’t remember how I got to my friend’s bedroom. I only remember what happened there. The memory starts with me, standing in front of the bed. On the bed was Name, one of my friend’s older brothers. I remember staring at him for I don’t know how long. I think he was talking, but it was all static to me. I remember there was one those party lights things, the ones that project blue, red, and green lights onto the ceiling. Then I remember he starts jumping higher. And then he jumps at me, tackling me onto the ground. I was frozen in terror. And all I did was cry silently. But to this day, I still don’t know if it counts as rape. I was 10, but he was 13. He was only a kid too. Maybe he was also experiencing abuse, and he took it out on me. I also feel like it’s my fault for not doing anything, and not telling anyone. I could have screamed or something, but I just laid there, frozen and silent. I haven’t healed from this at all, probably because I haven’t really talked with anyone about it. I don’t know what to do.

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.

For me, my story entailed a male friend getting into my bed when i told him not to and forcing me to ‘cuddle’ with him, while he grabbed at me. He had been telling me all night how he missed his girlfriend, particularly her body & “that” part of their relationship. I felt horrible, i was uncomfortable and scared that he might do more. He didnt. But still even years later i feel uneasy when i think about it & how creepy he really was. He ignored me when i said no. He took away my autonomy that night. So dont feel like your story isnt worthy just because it “could have been worse”. Every experience is valid ❤️

Deep Breath Betty was a background character in her own life So Tired of seeking the answers, so tired of living in strife Her mother taught her many things, but mostly just how to stay “Let him rage and let him scream, sometimes that’s just a man’s way” It didn’t used to be like this, otherwise she could have known But it isn’t like the first kiss, tells you how it’s gonna go And many years since then, rings exchanged and baby on the way, The man she knew before then, is not the man he is today She dreams of being free Of something just her own, She dreams of what she’d achieve If nobody here could tell her no She dreams of a real life Not just running to horizons new Where she can finally take a deep breath And have it be better than she’s used to. But when she’s finally made a plan And packed herself a little case There’s nowhere she can run to, not when he’s about to chase That’s the thing about a small town, everyone knows everything But when you’re just a blow in, no one’s gonna let you in And Lord, she needs some money, yeah, can’t rent a place without enough But ever since the baby, that’s been eating all her money up And he said it would be better, if she stayed at home all the time So the baby has a mother, so the big man feels he’s got the wife. She dreams of being free Of something just her own, She dreams of what she’d achieve If nobody here could tell her no She dreams of a real life Not just running to horizons new Where she can finally take a deep breath And have it be better than she’s used to. And when it all goes south and the doors are being slammed When the neighbours just pretend they didn’t see a thing again When the makeup on her eyes is cried off and shows the truth When only in hindsight did they see what he did to you But did she have a place to go? Was there a place to stay? And her dreams are just for sleeping and now we are all awake She won’t ever get the chance to run away. She won’t ever get the chance to be okay… She dreams of being free Of something just her own, She dreams of what she’d achieve If nobody here could tell her no She dreams of a real life Not just running to horizons new Where she can finally take a deep breath And have it be better than she’s used to. Where she can finally take a deep breath and be safe.

I want to be a source of hope to the hopeless

My Story — I Just Want a Safe Life for My Children I am sharing my story anonymously because I am afraid that people from my past may recognise me. Some details have been changed or left out to protect me and my children. The experiences and feelings I describe are my own. For most of my life, I have kept my pain inside. I have carried things that I never told anyone because I was frightened, ashamed, or simply didn't know how to explain everything that had happened to me. Today, I am finally trying to tell my story. Not because I want revenge. Not because I want people to feel sorry for me. I just want someone to hear me. My childhood When I was a young child, I was expected to clean the house, wash clothes, iron and cook. If something wasn't done exactly the way my mother wanted, I would be punished. I remember being beaten with spoons and other objects. I would have bruises on my body and would try to hide them. I was frightened in my own home. Sometimes I was thrown outside without proper clothes or shoes, even when it was cold and getting dark. I remember hiding underneath a tree because I was scared. One of the few places where I felt safe was when my uncle would take me to his house. I looked forward to those visits because I knew I would have some peace. I also felt that my siblings were treated differently from me. I was made to feel that I was less wanted because my mother had wanted a boy when I was born. For years, I wondered what I had done wrong. I was only a child. I had done nothing wrong. A decision that was never mine When I was a teenager, my family told me we were going on holiday. I wanted to finish my education first. Instead, I was taken abroad and discovered that the real reason for the trip was that I was going to be married. I was still very young. I tried to convince myself that perhaps marriage would give me the loving family I had always wanted. Very quickly, I discovered that my new husband was not the person I had hoped he would be. When I told my family what was happening, I was told that things would become better. I didn't want him to come and live with me. My wishes were ignored. My first marriage When I returned home, I was expected to work and look after everything. My money was controlled. I was expected to work long hours and still cook, clean and look after my husband. When I couldn't meet all the expectations placed on me, I was shouted at, insulted and physically abused. I also experienced sexual violence. I did not consent, but my wishes were ignored. Eventually, I was thrown out. I managed to find somewhere safe to stay for a short time. I thought perhaps my life was finally going to change. But I was persuaded to return. Later, I was taken abroad again and left there for a long period because I would not agree to live with my husband. I was heartbroken and frightened. Eventually, under pressure, I agreed. My children I eventually became a mother. My children became my whole world. Their father was violent towards me, and there were times when I had to put myself between him and the children to stop him from hurting them. I was terrified, but I would never allow someone to hurt my children if I could protect them. After years of cheating, violence, shouting and fear, my husband eventually left. I felt relieved. Then he returned. People around me told me that he had changed and that I should give him another chance. I didn't want to. My children and I were frightened. Then came the night that I will never forget. While I was working, one of my children contacted me and warned me not to come home because they were afraid their father was going to kill me. When I returned home, I was attacked. I was hit, thrown against furniture and injured. At one point, a knife was held against my throat and I was threatened. My children were terrified. They helped me find a way to keep him distracted long enough for help to arrive. I remember praying that the police would come before something happened that could never be undone. Eventually, there was a knock at the door. The police arrived. He was arrested. I was shaking and crying. My body was hurting and I was terrified. I was taken to hospital. My children and I were then moved somewhere safe. For the first time in a long time, we had some distance from the danger. Starting again After many months away, we returned home. I hoped we could finally rebuild our lives. Instead, our belongings were removed. Furniture was thrown away. My children's belongings were sold. I was told that we did not deserve comfortable things and that we could sit and sleep on the floor. I was devastated. But the next morning, I got up and bought basic food for my children. That was when I decided I had to work. I found a job working nights. I arranged childcare and built my entire life around my children. I would work through the night, come home, get my children ready for school, take them to school, sleep for a few hours, wake up to cook and clean, collect them, feed them, take them to their activities, put them to bed and then go back to work. I was exhausted. But I did it because my children needed me. Losing our home While I was trying to rebuild our lives, I also suffered serious financial difficulties involving people close to me. I had worked hard to build a home for my children. I had invested years of work and money into making it a safe and happy place. Then I discovered that arrangements had been made for the house to be transferred to another family member without my agreement. I came home from work and was told that the house had been sold. I couldn't believe it. That house wasn't just a building. It was where my children had grown up. It was where I had tried to create the home and family I had never had as a child. I had spent years making it ours. Suddenly, it was gone. My children and I had nowhere to go. We stayed with family for a while, where we were made to sleep on the floor. Eventually, I went to the council for help. My children and I were placed in temporary accommodation. We had very little privacy and were struggling to cope. Eventually, we were given somewhere to live. I continued working wherever I could. I worked in care and took other jobs when I needed to. I did whatever I could to support my children. Trying to find love again My family continued to pressure me to marry again. I didn't want another marriage. I was frightened of going through the same things again. But people around me kept telling me that I should give someone else a chance. Eventually, I agreed to marry a man who had been described to me as kind and caring. At first, he seemed wonderful. I thought perhaps I had finally found the person I had spent my whole life waiting for. Then I became pregnant. Things changed. He began asking me for money. He became angry and verbally abusive. He wanted me to arrange for him to come and live with me. I was pregnant and unable to work normally. I couldn't understand why someone who had seemed so kind was treating me this way. I asked people for help and was told to keep him happy and do what he wanted. It felt like my past was repeating itself. When I gave birth by Caesarean section, I was still in hospital when he said something that broke my heart. I had just given birth to our son. Instead of feeling loved and supported, I was made to feel worthless. After that, he continued to be kind mainly when he wanted money. I was paying for things and trying to provide for my child. Eventually, I discovered evidence that he had been involved with another woman. Once again, my heart was broken. I had believed that this marriage would be different. Eventually, he left. Where I am today Today, I am raising four children. I have spent years working whenever I could to provide for them. But recently, everything changed again. I became seriously unwell and was diagnosed with blood clots affecting both lungs. Because of my health, I am currently unable to work. This has been frightening. Working has always been how I have tried to keep our lives going. Now I am unable to do what I have always done while still having the responsibility of caring for my children. Everyday life has become a struggle. After everything I have already survived, I never imagined that my health would become another battle. But I am still here. I am still trying to look after my children and find a way forward. For years, I blamed myself and wondered whether there was something wrong with me. I am beginning to understand that being mistreated did not mean I deserved to be mistreated. I was a child who deserved protection. I was a young woman who deserved a choice. I was a wife who deserved safety and respect. I am a mother who deserves a safe and stable home for her children. I don't want revenge. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want pity. I simply want my story to be heard. I want my children to grow up feeling safe, loved and protected. This is my story. For the first time, I am letting it be heard.

Hearing other people's stories make em feel not alone

I don't really want advice or anything. I just need to get this out somewhere because holy shit lol. Things with my boyfriend have gotten really bad lately. He'll wake up or come home and almost immediately start bitching at me. Just ranting, degrading me, telling me I've ruined his life and that everything is my fault. And he'll just keep going even when I'm not responding. So lately I've just been putting my headphones in and watching YouTube. Yesterday he was going on and on at me and getting more and more pissed because I wasn't reacting, so I literally just started singing along with whatever I was watching. He finally shut up and left. Then he came back later and tried it again. I put my headphones back in and ignored him. He got pissed and yanked my charger away from me and took off in the car. This morning, same shit. He woke up and immediately started bitching at me. I put my headphones in and listened to YouTube while he ranted. Then I started singing again and eventually he just left for work. It's honestly morbidly hilarious watching him get SO pissed that I can just sit there and be content while he's trying so hard to upset me. Like dude, I'm literally watching YouTube. But at the same time it's fucking exhausting. I'm at the point where I don't feel entirely safe around him anymore, and I'm probably going to call the shelter today and figure out what I can do. The part that scares me the most is my dogs. I have dog and dog and I don't want to be separated from them or have anything happen to them. I'm also terrified of losing my stuff, especially my PC. I don't even know. I just needed to tell somebody. I don't really want advice. I just want to throw this out into the universe and have somebody go "yeah, holy shit, that's fucked up" and then let me exist lol.

When that person tried to kill me, no human tried to save me. Only my cat, then 1-year-old, warmed my body which was going to be cold, losing 1 liter of blood. My mother told me "you choose who you marry" and went on to complain about my father, who was also abusive. I told her "You choose him". (I didn't victimize anyone except my cat, unlike my mother) Why I as a woman and women in East Asia are taken so lightly?

I have lived through many battles, some visible and some invisible. Chronic pain has been a constant companion, and alongside it came experiences of assault, grief, bullying, and being overlooked or targeted in the workplace. Each of these left scars that ran deeper than I could admit at the time. For years, I tried to hold it all in — the pressure, the pain, the silence through alcohol and substances. But it built until I couldn’t contain it anymore, and I crashed hard. My mental health episode was frightening, for me and for those around me. What has made it harder is the culture I grew up in. In South Asian communities, mental health is often brushed aside, stigmatized, or seen as weakness. Instead of compassion, I felt shame. Instead of understanding, I carried guilt. I believed I had let down the people I loved most. But I am learning that what happened was not my fault. Trauma is not a choice. Crashes are not punishments. They are the body and mind crying out for care. I am still here. I am learning to see my sensitivity and survival not as flaws, but as proof of resilience. Sharing my story is part of releasing the shame and reclaiming my voice. My hope is that others who have lived through pain and silence — especially in communities where mental health is hidden — can know they are not alone. Our stories matter. Our survival matters.

I always struggled with my words even before that night happened. Using alcohol as a mechanism to survive in social spaces I never belonged. Maybe that’s how he picked me out he saw his victim: lost, voiceless and out of control. After that night, I felt the loneliest and most out of place I’ve ever felt. That girl was lost, she felt out of control, she felt voiceless. Now, nearly 10 years later. I have found my voice. I am not a victim but I’m a survivor. I speak for women whose voices are lost too, so one day they will have the courage to find them and speak up too. You are never alone and anytime you use your voice I promise you, you’ll be heard. We are women, we are powerful!

Having YOUR voice is the most important thing that you can have as an abuse victim. After going through abuse for multiple years at Location, I felt like everything was stripped away from me. My dignity, self respect, confidence, happiness, and strength felt like were taken by the age of 9. Summer after summer i went to this dark place that was supposed to be a positive experience. My parents thought they were dropping me off at a place to help grow my walk with the Lord. What they didnt know is that Name 2 told me that if I did the sexual acts he wanted me to do, he promised that I would become closer to God. He was a sick individual that constantly broke Location's guidelines and the law. The worst part is that Location had insight and knew these events were happening but did nothing. Leaving camp and going back home I remember feeling empty and depressed. You are not at a maturity level at this age to be able to grasp what has happened and how to process it. I went to child advocacy centers to get professional help and struggled to even talk about what happened because it did not make sense in my head and could not verbalize the events or the impact it had on me. As i moved into my teen years I became more depressed. Every night I would have a dream of Name 2 abusing me and I felt like every night I went to sleep, I was going to be abused again. The fear, anger and depression I went through weighed so heavy on me that I was close to not wanting to make it to the next day. After years of this cycle, I decided I needed change to be able to live a full life. I started to to work on my physical, spiritual and mental health. The biggest part of this is having your voice. You have to be able to share your experience so that you can get the help you need and to express the pain you have been through. That is why I am thankful for Trey's Law. This removes the ability for organizations like Location to silence victims after they put them through horrendous experiences. It gives the power back to the Survivor. Treys Law will save lives. It will allow for someone to stick up for themselves. It will allow for less criminals/organizations to get away with what is the worst crime someone can commit. If anyone is reading this and needs help, I am always happy to listen to your voice! Name

I work with survivors of sexual violence as a part of my job...and it can be really difficult to engage in my own healing while I am constantly hearing the trauma of others. Most days are fulfilling. It is special to connect with folks who have experienced something similar to what you have...but it can also be uniquely isolating. I long for the community of survivors I often refer my clients to, but for some reason I feel a barrier to engaging in these services myself. "Too many people know me there," I rationalize...would they have concerns about me working with survivors if they knew I was a survivor myself? I was sexually assaulted by a massage therapist....something that I have very rarely said out loud but still think about nearly every day. I can still feel his sweat dripping onto my body...and have a visceral reaction to even raindrops falling on my bare skin. God I hate that guy...I don't even know where he is now, but I always wonder if what I did was enough. Did his boss take my accusation seriously? Why did I insist that I not be contacted again? I really wish I knew the outcome of my complaint... Despite this unknowing, I really feel like I have came a long way. The anger is still there yes, but my hatred for myself has slowly been materializing. Day by day things get easier, as I try to find spaces that make me feel seen and find people who understand why I do what I do. I hope I can do enough to make this world a little easier for those, like me, who often feel like they are suffering in silence. But I also hope I can rest. And love. And feel peace. Because now I realize I deserve that too.

At a young age, I started therapy. I found through therapy I grew up with narcissistic parents, and my sister developed narcissistic traits. I was the scapegoat in the family. My parents taught my siblings and I that family comes first. My family took advantage of my sensitivity. They expected me to do everything for them. If I did anything for myself, I was told I am selfish. After years of therapy, I learned that explained a lot as to why the relationships I had felt similar to what I had with my family. I never knew my childhood trauma linked to my relationships. My daughter's father abused us emotionally, mentally, and physically. Hitting, slapping, belittling, name calling and more. A lot like how my family treated me, but minus the physical abuse. Eventually he left. Before he left, he pinned me to the wall and threatened to hit me. He left. I got a restraining order. He broke it by coming to my house. No one was home at the time, but he was there because he left a note on the gate of my house. That happened two more times. After awhile, it stopped. A few years later, I attempted another relationship. I ended the relationship last year. I had to. He was a combination of my dad and my daughter's father when it came to narcissistic abuse and domestic violence. After finding my current therapist, my therapist said she she is proud of me. She said I was able to break the generational chain of abuse. It was scary to break up with my now ex, but I wasn't happy. The healing is scary, emotional, but necessary. Both my Down Syndrome daughter, and I are blessed to have each other.

You feel like you will never heal,you will You will never forget but you will heal.. It took years for me to fine my confidence but I have it and will never lose it again...there are curtain things ....like the darkness ,I have nightlight in my house....walked thur hell and came out stronger... Hate roses to this day ,but love flowers... You will one day fine your courage to leave, It took me 17 years ,I did not do it alone had help Was hard ... its been 28 years. I could not save one,but I saved two..I watch my children and now my grandchildren grow and thank God they and I are here ...I am still healing ,but I am now living ... You will heal ...

I come here today with the utmost need of to tell my truth no longer be silenced and the need to be able to break these chains rather invisible or not they're there I have suffered for 20 plus years from abuse from an individual who suffers from narcissistic personality I'm pretty sure the subtype is passive aggressive covert malignant narcissism . He has shown documented behaviors of being a sociopath. This individual also suffers from substance abuse and sex addiction. My needs for housing transportation and financial support is a means of causing intentional harm by exploitation of my imminent needs for human basic survival and he knows that my disabilities cause me to not be able to get proper help because of my social and communication disorders and brain injury. Being a victim who also has disabilities of all kinds creates a much bigger barrier because I can't do communal living spaces. There is no way to get free every phone call to national special victims I get a recorded message and no one calls back..I'm posting a link for my fundraiser because I've gotten no help and if help doesn't come soon I will just be a statistic but helping me get free is way bigger than me it gives a ability to bring about systematic change to help others not have to suffer in silence anymore Please help me Link

My mom was Lily Bloom and I’m her Emerson but sadly it did not end there . I wish I could have not fallen for the charm or been blinded by the red flags but like my mom nobody saw the signs . My mom wasn’t able to leave and she wasn’t able to tell her story. But after sharing with her the trauma I endured from these past two insanely manipulating, toxic , abusive relationships . She was finally able to tell me I wasn’t alone , and my father was her Ryle , and like all Ryles they say they can change . But they won’t . Thankfully my mom and I both left our Ryles and found comfort in being each others safe place .

I was so small and I still have flashbacks.

I guess I am here to share some of the experiences I have been through in the past few years. My therapist introduced me to this page as a way to see support/connect with others who have been through similar experiences. My fiancé and I have been together for YEARS, but when we first got together he tried to force himself on me, and once I pushed him off and started crying he backed off. That should have been my first warning. Throughout the years he had a much higher drive than me and I didn’t always want to have sex like he did. He would practically beg me to have sex and I would eventually cave, which I have now learned is coercion. Once I even still told him know and he still went through with it. And then wondered why I was so upset. One time his sister brought over edibles for him and he let me have 2 and I didn’t think anything of it until I was unable to really move/keep my eyes open. I never smoke or do anything so this was a new experience. I remember at one point waking up to him on top of me starting to try to take my clothes off, luckily I was conscious enough to get him off of me. Moving forward years later this is STILL happening. He pressures me into having sex with him when I really don’t want to. I also don’t want to now because of prior experiences. My last straw was when I finally initiated sex with him and then he rushed through everything and then it started to hurt. And I begged him to stop and he claims he didn’t hear me. As he kept going to the point where I was sobbing and in physical pain. We are now on a break and I called off our engagement and I guess I just am at a loss and don’t know what to do. I love him , but I know this isn’t healthy. There has been other emotional things as well. I am always battling with my mental health and he can be very mean. I once was even self harming and he knew I was and completely ignored it. He really wants another chance to prove he is changing but I just don’t know. Everyone in my family loves him. He can be a great guy so I am just stuck!