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I take the last line, drink that last sip of beer from the dented can. I feel another piece of my consciousness float away. It doesn't matter what has just come before though. I feel a sudden grip on my outer leg, it wakes me. I start to blink, try to get rid of my weary vision. I pull my body away from this grip, he pulls back harder. I start to use my voice... repeating the classic "no" "stop". my already limp body starts to struggle; pushing, elbowing and scratching. My wrists are met with yet another, tighter, grip. I feel his digging in, between my tendons. he pushes his weight inside and upon me. the consistent "no" coming from my mouth is answered with a soft "shhh" like an attentive father to a crying baby. After five or so minutes it is as if he can hear me; "should I stop" he says. "please stop, stop" "ahh, a little more" he responds. He goes harder. Maybe my voice is bothering or worrying him. He jams his hand deep into my mouth, clawing at the back of my throat. I start to splutter and search for air, he pulls out his hands and places his grip around my mouth and jaw and vigorously shakes my head around. "are you mine" "are you mine" he asks me with a low volumed rage, while his body still beats fiercely into mine. I start to wonder how these same hands that must have once combed through his young daughters hair were the same ones ragging and tearing at mine. He finally takes a break, the mass of his legs still crushing on top of mine. While I think he's sleeping I throw off his arm that is wrapped around me. Not yet "heyy" he says as he hurls it back around me tighter. As if I am his sulking lover upset by his late arrival home from a night of drinking. In those minutes, while I can only stare into my surroundings, I start to think of this setting being my new life. I will physically remain like this, a worn out body to be misused and wounded by this creature forever. Until I am so damaged that my body and my mind become numb and irreparable. He's awake and ready for round 2, I still have fragments of fight left. He pulls my legs apart as I use all of my strength trying to keep them together. he is completely on top of me , his sweat smothering my skin. His face above mine but his gaze is somewhere; anywhere except into my eyes. he goes again, each thrust more painful than the last. His heavy painted body sagging over me again and again. He pauses again. The sweat drips from his hair down the side of his face over his pulsing veins. I look at his eyes, hooded and bloodshot with an emptiness I have never seen before. I have seen spite from people who didn't like me, but I have never before felt that someone wanted to destroy me like this. I have heard this man say I was pretty before, but I know in this moment that his pleasure comes from damaging me. Round three. He goes again, this time he squeezes my neck. He starts to shake me, his grip still firm, my weak body stops its fighting. I start to hear an echoey voice of my mother, as if she is here but just not in my sights. I start to see an image of a friend of mine, as if he is standing on a balcony looking down at me with either pity or disgust but I don’t have the capacity to tell. I gasp for air in away I have never felt before. Some time has passed , I don’t know how long. Some ten seconds I stare, I see the door half open to a room where there are several hanging patterned shirts. I look at the floor and see a pair of crumpled jeans, I don’t yet realise they are mine. I start to hear a faint voice, saying my name. It reminds me of a time in hospital, awaking from anaesthetic to a doctors voice. I start to put the pieces together and remember where I am. He looks at me. “You scared me” he says, as if he posits some kind of care. Although I am breathing again, I am just a small mass of flesh, slowly decomposing into the sheets under his heavy body. Eventually I notice him sleeping, this time deeply. I get up quietly and pick up my clothes, feeling my jeans scrape across my bruised hips. I pass by the mirror in the corner of the room, I almost cannot recognise the reflection that is there. My hair sticks out, matted and messy. I pat it down and try to comb my fingers through. I feel my face is dirty, it is rough and red where his hands have corroded. I look over at the disheveled bed, the sweaty sleeping body upon it. I notice a slight grin on his face as he continues sleeping soundly. I look at my own eyes, smeared outlines of mascara, I can tell something in there is missing in this moment. I go to the door, open it with my shaking hand and o down to the street, and I hope that no one notices my hair.

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

Hi, I don't know if it counts as abuse or not; I just recently (about two months ago) remembered a bit about what happened. It happened when I was 8 years old. I used to have a "friend" who was 9 or 10; I don't know what he said to me that day that made me say "No, that's not from God," although at first I "gave in" and had said no. I'm not sure if that really happened or if it's just my imagination.

Hello, this is my first post and I wanted to share what happened as a female on female SA victim (I think, not sure tho)... When I was 15 at the time my then firend took advantage of me. She offered to give me a massage at a public pool, but her touches became inappropriate and manipulative. At the time, I didn’t realize what was happening, and I even defended her when my parents noticed red flags and tried to protect me. And since then my parents developed prejudices against LGBTQ+ people, which I don’t agree with. However, that trauma made me reinforce my heterosexuality and influenced my vews. Even now, I still struggle to set boundaries, even after what happened.

Victim Impact Statement I am sharing this victim impact statement in English because I want my real words to be heard. During the trial, I didn’t have the opportunity to fully express the depth of how this has affected my life. These are my words, my truth, and my experience. I hope they will be considered with the seriousness they deserve. I have translated it with AI but I feel like words are more powerful in my native language. Estoy compartiendo esta declaración de impacto como víctima en inglés porque quiero que se escuchen mis palabras reales. Durante el juicio, no tuve la oportunidad de expresar plenamente la profundidad de cómo esto ha afectado mi vida. Estas son mis palabras, mi verdad y mi experiencia. Espero que sean consideradas con la seriedad que merecen. Voy a traducirlo al español y lo incluiré también (con IA), pero las palabras no serán las mismas. Como siempre en mi caso. Here’s where we begin: My life has been utterly destroyed since Month Day, Year. I have had to miss work at the job I love, and it has taken a toll on my relationships with my friends and family. I have developed PTSD. My depression has worsened. My anxiety has become unbearable. My mind is like a mirror with a crack running through it—each side reflects a version of me, but the pieces don’t quite fit, and the fracture distorts what’s real. Deep down, I KNOW it was not my fault because I said no. Twice. Yet, on the surface, I feel at fault because I went there. But I said no. Twice. I’ve been on strong medications for my mental health. I am a shell of the person I once was. It’s affecting my work because I can’t sleep. I have had to miss days because I self harmed. I’ve been overwhelmed with stress about the trial. I can’t get over the fact that I feel it was my fault. I am scared to be alone. I am scared to go outside alone. I am terrified of men on the street. I don’t trust people easily. When I can sleep, I have nightmares where I wake up screaming, crying, and inconsolable. Honestly, I can’t be alone. I spiral into anxiety and obsessive thoughts when I am. The harassment and seeking justice has become an obsession, but when I spiral, I turn to self-harm. Since the assault, I’ve had to go to the hospital at least eight times for self-harm. I have gotten more than 50 stitches in my left arm. It looks like I’ve been attacked by a tiger. During the trial, I believe I had 25 stitches. Since the juicio, I called an ambulance and admitted myself to the psychiatric ward at La Princesa on Month, Day. The day after I voluntarily left because I was terrified, I went back to the hospital for self-harm on Month, Day. Why do I do it? Because it’s like the broken mirror I look into the half where I feel it was my fault. Since I received the sentencia, I have been in a horrible state. I haven’t been able to sleep, eat, or do anything. I cannot be alone because I fear I might hurt myself, again.The trial only confirmed the feeling that my sexual assault was my fault. It destroyed the progress I had made in therapy. I feel failed by the system. I understand there were doubts, but I believe I have been denied a fair trial due to linguistic barriers and the misapplication of Ley Orgánica 10/2022, de garantía integral de la libertad sexual (“Solo Sí es Sí”). This law is clear in stating that consent must be affirmative, clear, and continuous. According to Article 178.1 of the Spanish Penal Code, modified by this law: “Solo se entenderá que hay consentimiento cuando se haya manifestado libremente mediante actos que, en atención a las circunstancias del caso, expresen de manera clara la voluntad de la persona.” My understanding is that consent is only understood to exist when it has been freely expressed through acts that, considering the circumstances of the case, clearly express the person’s will. I said NO. Twice. There was no affirmative consent. The absence of continued, explicit consent should have been enough. The court seemed to focus on perceived doubts in my memory and inconsistencies rather than the absence of my consent. This is a violation of the very principles of the “Solo Sí es Sí” law, which centers the lack of affirmative consent as the key factor—not the victim’s behavior, not emotional reactions, not the aftermath. I know my truth: I was raped. I said no. Twice. Now I have to face my life, living with mental and physical scars that remind me of November 18, 2022— without justice. Declaración de Impacto de la Víctima (en castellano) Aquí es donde comienza todo: Mi vida ha sido completamente destruida desde el Day Month, Year. He tenido que faltar al trabajo que amo, y esto ha afectado mis relaciones con amigos y familia. He desarrollado TEPT (trastorno de estrés postraumático). Mi depresión ha empeorado. Mi ansiedad se ha vuelto insoportable. Mi mente es como un espejo con una grieta que lo atraviesa: cada lado refleja una versión de mí, pero las piezas no encajan del todo, y la fractura distorsiona lo que es real. En lo más profundo, SÉ que no fue mi culpa porque dije que no. Dos veces. Sin embargo, en la superficie, me siento culpable por haber ido allí. Pero dije que no. Dos veces. He estado tomando medicamentos muy fuertes para mi salud mental. A veces soy solo una sombra de la persona que solía ser. Está afectando mi trabajo porque no puedo dormir. He tenido que faltar algunos días porque me autolesiono. Me siento abrumada por el estrés relacionado con el juicio. No puedo superar la sensación de que fue mi culpa. Tengo miedo de estar sola. Tengo miedo de salir sola. Me aterran los hombres en la calle. No confío fácilmente en la gente. Cuando puedo dormir, tengo pesadillas en las que me despierto gritando, llorando e inconsolable. Honestamente, no puedo estar sola. Entro en espirales de ansiedad y pensamientos obsesivos cuando lo estoy. La angustia y la búsqueda de justicia se han convertido en una obsesión, pero cuando entro en ese espiral, recurro a la autolesión. Desde la agresión, he tenido que ir al hospital al menos ocho veces por autolesiones. Me han puesto más de 50 puntos de sutura en el brazo izquierdo. Parece que me ha atacado un tigre. Durante el juicio, creo que tenía 25 puntos de sutura. Desde el juicio, llamé a una ambulancia y me ingresé voluntariamente en la unidad psiquiátrica de La Princesa el Day of Month. Al día siguiente, me fui voluntariamente porque estaba aterrada. El Day of Month volví al hospital por autolesiones. ¿Por qué lo hago? Porque es como el espejo roto en el que me miro: en la mitad donde siento que fue mi culpa. Desde que recibí la sentencia, he estado en un estado horrible. No he podido dormir, comer ni hacer nada. No puedo estar sola porque temo que pueda hacerme daño otra vez. El juicio solo confirmó la sensación de que mi agresión sexual fue mi culpa. Destruyó el progreso que había logrado en terapia. Me siento defraudada por el sistema. Entiendo que hubiera dudas, pero creo que se me ha negado un juicio justo debido a barreras lingüísticas y a la mala aplicación de la Ley Orgánica 10/2022, de garantía integral de la libertad sexual (“Solo Sí es Sí”). Esta ley es clara al establecer que el consentimiento debe ser afirmativo, claro y continuo. Según el artículo 178.1 del Código Penal español, modificado por esta ley: “Solo se entenderá que hay consentimiento cuando se haya manifestado libremente mediante actos que, en atención a las circunstancias del caso, expresen de manera clara la voluntad de la persona. ” Según mi comprensión, el consentimiento solo se entiende que existe cuando ha sido expresado libremente mediante actos que, considerando las circunstancias del caso, expresan claramente la voluntad de la persona. Dije NO. Dos veces. No hubo consentimiento afirmativo. La ausencia de un consentimiento explícito y continuo debería haber sido suficiente. El tribunal pareció centrarse en las supuestas dudas sobre mi memoria y en inconsistencias, en lugar de en la ausencia de mi consentimiento. Esto es una violación de los principios fundamentales de la ley “Solo Sí es Sí” , que se centra en la falta de consentimiento afirmativo como el factor clave—no en el comportamiento de la víctima, ni en sus reacciones emocionales, ni en lo que sucedió después. Sé mi verdad: fui violada. Dije no. Dos veces. Ahora tengo que enfrentar mi vida, viviendo do con cicatrices mentales y físicas que me recuerdan el Day Month, Year— sin justicia.

Hi, I dont know if, as a child, I performed COCSA on my far cousin or if it was just natural children curiosity. Im four years older than her and when this happened i think i was around 9 or 10, I dont really remember. I remember one summer I hit my knee with a rock and that have me a scar and I even hit my clitoris. I thought it was broken because it had a slit. I dont remember if this was the same summer or the next one but i remember always thinking my clit was broken and i remember playing families with her and her older brother who is 2 years younger than me. I would want a sneek of what her vagina looked like just to see if it looked like mine so when we were playing she was my child and i would do the movements as if i had to change her undies, so i just pulled them down, did the mimick of cleaning and pulling them back up. She never said no and i never touched her but i dont know it this is abusive behaviour or just normal curiosity bc i felt shame to tell my parents that i thought my clit was broken. I feel a lot of shame and i plan on telling this to my therapist but for now i dont know who to tell it.

Date’ I’m 16 years old. I went to a private school in region. There was a post grad following me around the party. I knew him so I wasn’t alarmed(even though he was 19 6’5” and 200 lbs a basketball player) He was my best friends ex. I needed to use the restroom. My first red flag. The guy tried to come in the bathroom. I said oh here you can go I’ll go somewhere else. Smooth move. I went upstairs and when I came out he was standing there waiting for me. He brought me into plunketts room and asked me to go on the roof and hook up. I said no I have a bf. He tried to kiss me I pushed him away. The fireworks were starting. We went on the roof after he apologized and said let’s just go smoke a cigarette. I agreed and we went out. This is when he forced me down and started kissing me. I was helpless 120, 5’8”. I cried and replied no stop pls stop. I can still feel the the rocky shingles on my back while he defiled me. Not even the worst part. I could hear ppl right under us but I was so embarrassed and scared I didn’t scream. That’s my worst regret I could have just screamed. When he was about to finish he gave me a choice. “I won’t come in you if you let me cum in your mouth”. I’m 40 and have never been the same since that incident

Iam a 33 year old with 3 children(2 boys and one girl) my first born son is from my previous relationship. I was a fresh graduate when i met this man that i currently have two kids with …i finished university expecting to get a job to support me and my then only son but each time i tried to look for jobs my husband discouraged me saying i would be exploited and given peanuts so to whom it was wise for me to sit home and be a wife i gave in and sat home but him satisfying my needs was always a fight i remember i asked for panties and bras for the last 6 years and nothing.everything he provides we must first have a fight and he knows so well i have no where to run to because he isolated me from my family. After moving in with him and my son he started treatung my son with so much anger he would beat,abuse and use vulgar words to him and he still does it he shows him that am not your father and only favors the kids i have with him. Mine i came with is not worthy of anything good. While i was pregnant for his son he was flirting with my sister and by this time i was not getting any financial help so i opted to go to my mothers rental and after sometime my sister disclosed to me the kind of husband i have when i confronted him about it he was too bitter and threatened to take my kids from me. When i was pregnant for my second child with him i got him with 15 girls flirting and sleeping around i was so devasted and almost lost my child due to stress i put my self together and let it go for my sake of my baby but i swore i was done with this man so i started not to pay too much attention on him and concentrated on raising my kids meanwhile i was caught up had no money of my own and had no relative in contact with i perservered and stayed to have a roof over our heads and to solicit food for my kids. I actually lost sexual appetite towards him for all the disgusting things he does behind my back but he would force me into sex and threaten not to provide if i ddt satisfy him a time came when he would rape me saying am his property and that i couldnt live without him since i dont have any money. It was all verbal violence until may this year 2024when i confronted him about cheating with my cousin and messages of him in a lodge with another girl that he grabbed me by the neck and strangled me and beat up that i started spitting blood..at this point i said to myself i should leave and start a new life i actually told him am leaving and he laughed at me saying u cant leave what are u gonna feed ur kids .i was packing whole day thinking to my self i cant fail to get where to stay but reality hit me and for sure i had no where to go so i unpacked my stuff and stayed its now months and months of sexual, financial,emotional and physical abuse but i dont know where to start with 3 children ive actually contemplated suicide so many times thinking it will ease the pain. Am in fear please advise me

I worked in a hospital kitchen as a food services assistant, I was 23 years old. My brother had died the year prior he was 24 years of age when he passed. I had so much grief inside whilst also trying to work and had just moved out of home. I was a lost women learning my way on my own. He was 28, he worked as the dishwashing man. I was instantly intimidated by him and his personality, his loud voice, and the jokes he would come up with, but also somehow extremely intrigued by him, and how he manages to charm everyone he works with, how he is so muscly, tanned, jet black hair and gives off so much confidence within himself, it was hard not to be charmed by him. Whilst washing the dishes he would ask questions out loud " anyone have wild sex on the weekend?". There was a time when I was standing close by to my supervisor (a woman in her 60's) and he came over and asked her if she would go to the movies with him. She laughed it off and told him to go back to work. I remember having lunch break with my female coworkers (They were such good friends of mine at the time) and they would tell me how he had showed them porn at the lockers. I remember them saying how they were uncomfortable but they moved subjects quickly and forgot about it. Not sure how long after but one of them came to me in the kitchen when I was working and she said that he had asked her what she thinks I'm like in bed, and asked her if she thinks id be the kinky type. When she came and told me he was not far away and I think he heard her telling me and he looked over to me, and I wanted to hide. When he left to go collect dishes with one of the girls he would say that if they aren't back soon then they are most likely having sex. He would always give me compliments, say he liked my hair, my nails, this love bombing I took like a hungry fish to bait. I remember one day just saying bye to him as I clocked out and he would just yell out I love you. When it was just me and him washing dishes, he would pretend to wank infront of me and then splashed the water everywhere. One of the older women in her 60's he would always be massaging her shoulders in the middle of the kitchen. (this confused me the most as he was 28.) He would walk past wet floor signs and say wow you must be horny. Nobody ever heard. He would stand at the door way and deliberately look the girl infront of me up and down, and then I knew I was next to walk past him. I even had one of the chefs saying to me, go have lunch with him and you'll be sucking him off in the next 5 minutes. I didn't have that one big moment of omg that was inappropriate he must be trying to harass me, it was a slow feed of inappropriate things being delivered to me like a line of IV fluids in the form of sexual harassment (indirectly and directly). At the time I didn't even realise what was happening to me, I loved the compliments and attention he gave me, because I looked up to him because he was so confident, charming and loud. But I was also so scared of him, He had degraded me and made me feel so uncomfortable with his comments, he had me and my 3 work friends on Facebook and he would send so much porn through messenger and making jokes about the other girls at work regarding porn. I felt embarrassed and humiliated for them. One of my good friends, she use to get him to drive her home, and she said they were making sexual jokes to each other and when she went to get out of the car he pulled her back in, she said she just laughed it off but when she got home she messaged us and told us because she was scared. Later on she would say nobody go in the freezer with him unless you want to be molested. then she walked over to me and told me that he had made jokes about her nipples when she was in there. I still remember the moment that I was like what the hell just happened, I was pushing the dishes on a trolley, when the trolley stopped working and he walked right up behind me as close as he could, and said come on you can do it. I literally panicked and just tried my best to get the trolley going. Once I walked around the corner I had to stop and get my breath. And my mind had shut off from that moment. From that moment I realised my boundaries did not exist. I was being intimidated, humiliated, embarrassed, degraded slowly overtime that I did not even realise it was happening to me until it was too late. Id been manipulated and persuaded to give in, I flirted with him. And before I knew it I was making out with him in his car. Completely scared out of my mind that I couldn't even think whilst it was happening. I remember wanting so badly to show him that I wasn't scared of him. But I was. I was terrified, of what he thought of me, being so unsure of him and his personality, not knowing if he was a good or bad guy. I was an absolute mess after being with him, I felt sick, I didn't eat for weeks. I didn't tell my work friends what I had done, everyday I was going to work and facing him, staring at me, feeling judged and humiliated for giving in and being with him. I wanted to feel okay again, and somehow I was in this toxic cycle of telling myself if I can get him to be nice to me everything will be okay, I asked him to talk one day at lunch, he agreed. I met him in his car and I said to him I just wanted to say sorry for how things have turned out between us. and he said so your wanting to do this again? I said that I was unsure. And then we ended up making out again. Every time it happened, the days after I would be in this faded daze, I couldn't think, I was mentally ill for a while afterwards. The going to work, feeling humiliated, degraded, and like I meant nothing. There were days id beg him to talk to me and explain why it happened, and he would say, I don't know why it happened it just did. I couldn't think for myself, I was relying on him for everything, my thinking, my worth, my reality, which he told me was that I had major issues, was awkward and obsessed with him. For months after I would vomit before going to work, couldn't eat and I was close to a breakdown, the days I went to work with him I looked at the ground, watched him flirting with other girls in the kitchen, and saw him disregard me like rubbish. Tonight I write this, its 4 years on and I have come so far, I still think of this man everyday, and the one thing that I struggle to get closure with, is trying to explain to people how mental manipulation mixed with sexual harassment is one of the hardest things ever to explain in therapy and counselling, I've had days where I've blamed myself still, and told myself that it was my fault and that I agreed to go along with it, I wanted him so badly, I ended up begging my abuser to be with me. I wonder how I ended up being the one wanting him when he was the one harassing me. I've literally had to relearn how to love myself after doing that to myself. I'm still learning after all these years. It takes so much time and effort. But I really hope that one day I will move on. I've said outload to myself that I forgive him, but somedays its really hard. I never got closure from him. And I still doubt myself whether I was sexually harassed. I remember calling him on the phone and he would say everyone knows I'm joking otherwise I would be done for sexual harassment by now. I want to stop doubting myself, I've always known wrong from right. But this man took this from me. And I've struggled in life ever since. I know I need to forgive him. I know what happened did happen. I know my panic attacks were telling me something was wrong. I know that he is a hurt person for doing this to others. God please heal my heart.

I was used and abused by my next door neighbor's teenage son for two years, from age 4 till age 6. I was friends with his little sister and him and he gained my trust after my mom and I moved into the house. The first time it happened we were in the living room and he got my Simpsons sheet from my room and we went under the sheet and he unvelcroed his board shorts and took his penis out and put my head on it, telling me to pretend it was a bottle, it was frequent between oral and anal and I didn't understand how bad it was, my mom caught it finally and it stopped. My mom was going to press charges but his dad was a former police officer and my decided to not go through with it. As a child afterwards I moved forward, in my teens and adult years, I'm 36 almost 37, relationships have been difficult. I'm have not been intimate with any woman.

I hope my story will help someone Who may be in an abusive relationship so so long they start to think there is no way out but with your strong will and determination you can and will leave when the time is right for you....It took me 29 yrs to Leave the gaslighting, and other forms of abuse just got to be to much My abuser with help from his dysfunctional crowd he hung around with showed him how to groom me back in the relationship only to show our grown son that he can't be wrong!!! It bothered him so much that I walked out on him he used my vulnerability and grooming to get me back it was the worst descion of my life...let's put it this way I'm lucky to be alive right now to tell you this story ...I hope one day my grown son will see the truth...I believe in God and I know my ex significant other Will have to come to terms with his demons when he decides to get clean If not for himself for our wonderful adult son who takes care of him each day since I left...

I was in my early 20's, moved to Long Island from an upstate town for college and graduated with honors. I was excited to land a job in NYC with a large financial/insurance company. My boss was a young fairly handsome married man with good manners and was so nice at first. I was warned by a few woman to watch out for him because he was a player. Well naive me fell for his attention. At first the things g's he did seemed innocent, like walking with me to Penn Station. That turned into stopping off for drinks which then turned into kissing and touching . I look back at how stupid I was as he reeled me in and wonder why I did this. I can only say that I had left home because I did not have a good relationship with my dad and I was attention starved and he pounced on that. One thing led to another and I met him at a hotel. I felt awful after and wanted to end it but he threatened my job that I really needed. People started suspecting things at work and before I knew it, this smart student had a reputation. This went on for months and he was very controlling. He also would do things to make me jealous and to undermine my confidence. I hated myself. I believe his higher ups talked him into transferring me to a different dept in a different building so he could advance in his career. He did advance, quickly. I, on the other hand, moved and so did my reputation and my low self esteem. I had a couple of other encounters in the new area and finally changed companies altogether, which was the best thing I ever did. At the new company I remade myself and became and was seen as the true professional I am. I went back to school for my masters, have a beautiful family and a great career. BUT... I still have bouts of shame and at times my self esteem p!unges. None of my family or friends know any of this. I still harbor resentment against this man who retired at a very high level and runs a consulting company now. I wonder how many other women and careers he affected.

I am a trans guy and i was physically, emotionally, and sexually abused by my older sister. i don't know when the cocsa first started or when it ended, but it lasted for years. It happened so many times. Sometimes I would be a willing participant in the 'games'. Other times i was uncomfortable, other times downright terrified and forced. And the thing was, she'd create these stories of murder and torture and slavery and mutilation. We'd come up with characters who we'd "roleplay" as. Sometimes she made me play the abuser but i hated it. It's weird having been forced to roleplay RAMCOA scenarios because now i feel so much pain from that despite it not being actually real Its really difficult having abuse that went on for so long because it involved so many different experiences. I feel the guilt of "participating" but also the hatred from the times where i was forced.

Around five years ago, I was raped repeatedly by a man I was seeing. It was the kind of rape that some people don’t consider rape - other than the act itself, there was no additional physical violence. There were no threats. There was just the constant knowledge that he would not listen when I said no, that he would not care or stop when I told him it hurt or that I didn’t feel safe. He always kept going. Every time I went over to his house, I knew that it was about to happen again. I kept going over, at least for a little while. Eventually, I tried to end things with him. I stopped answering his calls and texts and a bit later we met for coffee somewhere. I told him I didn’t feel safe with him. I didn’t use the word ‘rape’. I didn’t think of that as what it was, really at all. What was happening to me didn’t fit what I thought rape was supposed to be like. I thought of it as him “pressuring me into sex” or “not listening when I said no.” Not as bad. He told me he was sorry, and that he couldn’t help it. I said okay. He didn’t stop. A few weeks later, I ended it for good. This is not the last time I was raped, but it will always be the episode that affects me the most. Because the other time, I knew what it was. I realized that I was being raped as I was being raped and that somehow made it easier for me to process. But this episode will never stop affecting me. It has sent me to a psychiatric hospital. I have been treated for depression, anxiety, and PTSD. My sex life will never again be effortless. I will never be able to have full-length mirrors in my bedroom. I will never be able to enjoy the things that he didn’t ask if he could do to me. I can live with these things, because I am strong and my support system never fails me. The part I don’t know that I will be able to get over is that I knew I wasn’t consenting, but I didn’t know it was rape. I hope you do know.

This is my story at 72 sitting here all alone because I allowed my self to be abuised physically and verbally for over a 25 period of a 36 marriage. I lost both my daughter's respect and grandchildren because of his action but blamed for my actions I didn't know what was going on. I found out in 2006 my husband was a drug addict and where he was working gave him the best place to obtain it at state housing project. He was a thief from stealing at work, a liar, a user, drugs addict, gave me herpe.s , kept money from me and the house he could have his stash . Cause me to have a breakdown , I didn't know I part of his plan. He was the good stepfather and neighbor everybody like made up stories and made you feel he was a great guy who loved his wife and family. I was busy raising my family and working. Then I was hit with major medical problems, a brain annersyums which I had surgically fixed but recovered alone and with 36 stiches in my head I was knocked into my kitchen cabinets. I had my rotor cuff torn, I was hit by ball lightning in my basement, my foot broken all well raising a 3 yrs and 8 week grand children with months of each other. I was over whleemed. He left for many weeks and days at a time but I had all I could do was to be standing medically and raising my grand babies. I stayed alone did 10 years of therapy, and also went to a clinic for abuise. Nothing made a difference how I was living the abuise continued. Courts cops, etc. Until just recently I saw they only abuise you when no one is around. My god how true. They run away instead of solving a problem as they are guilty for what they are being accused of. The money, missing the drugs, the liars , stealing , the dead animals, physical and verbal abuse abuses. I was raped , sexually abuised strangled,beaten blooded, and broken . Didn't matter if I got pushed or knocked into something even after 13 hours of a back operation. I could had been parlayed. . I once tried to end my life many years ago just sitting outside in the morning in the sunshine on my deck looking up at the sun and feeling the warmth I couldn't stand the lonelines, the abuise of my marriage and man I loved and the loss of my most precious daughters. I just got up off my deck took my bathrobe rope tried to die. The rope broke . That's strange . My life didn't improve it got worst. I was a beautiful strong independent woman, mother,grandmother. who now wants to die and will all alone. I saw something the other day I had packed from my daughter she wrote look up to the sky, I had a federal law passed for child support They were so proud and made this picture book for me. The news paper said one woman fight became a nation law. 992 I fought for them to get this law passed. They were important and needed to be recognized. Now I sit here crying everyday in pain with no one to talk to embarrass no one comes home and no one cares for me. Every holiday I spend alone and birthday. My only question is why my children who are 50 and 45 don't care about a mother who gave everything to them against all the odds years ago. They know what I'm talking about. I kept a house they grew up in with no skills got a good job had insurance . Not much else but we made it by hard work. What is left of my life is 3 journals-protecting my grandkids while watching them dates and places and their questions about the abuise. I recently found out thru a aaa self analysis he stated he hated my grandson who I raised as a baby. Now I know why he tortured him with unkindness. My daughter has no idea how much I protected that baby. He stopped talking to me over 5 years ago who knows why. I did my job then very well. Why question is why doesn't my daughters understand what happened. I've tried to make contact with them don't want any anything to do with me for over 13 yrs. All because I loved the wrong man who abuse me and I allowed him to. I ruined their lives they believe I think it's the other way around. . I lost my best friends . I thought they were. You can't replace a mother . What happens to me now ? LOVE IS NEVER SUPPOSE TO HURT.

In early summer 2022, I was raped by Name - someone I had known and was friends with for a decade. He was part of my group of girl friends, and was so proud to be the "guy who made it in the group chat" and always portrayed himself to be "one of the girls" as best he could. In reality, he was a loser when we took him in as a friend in high school - he so badly wanted to be friends with the "cool kids," but they rejected him so he settled for our friendship (that was too good for him). Over the years, he referred to us a "dumb bitches" and constantly made fun of everyone, proving his insecurity and emotional instability. About 4 years ago, we ended up in a situation where we lived in the same home. This wasn't necessarily my choice, but we lived with several other people and the homeowner begrudgingly let him stay for a while out of perceived obligation. During that time, he forced a sexual encounter on me which, looking back, I now realize was assault that I just didn't recognize as such until recently. I was almost blackout drunk and didn't want to have sex, but he forced himself on me and I went along with it because I didn't know what else to do. I tried to enter a sexual/romantic relationship with him in the weeks following, which didn't work because my body subconsciously rejected him and there was something I didn't trust, but the actual reason was hard for me to pinpoint. I didn't understand until recently, but that was all a trauma response. I was so hard on myself for a long time, because I felt guilty for "hurting" him by rejecting him, and I thought that I handled the situation poorly. It just turned out I didn't know how to deal with that situation; I moved states after a few months, and then we fell out of touch, but I was under the impression we were still friends, although we weren't in constant contact. He started dating a young woman early pandemic, but she broke up with him after about a year and a half of dating. Soon after the breakup, he had a get together with many of our friends for his 25th birthday, in May 2022. Because I hadn't seen him in a long time, I ended up going back to his apartment to hang out with him for longer, as well as another friend who was spending the night, and his mother, who he lives with. On this night, our friend and his mother fell asleep, and he began sexually assaulting me. He shoved his hand so hard in my pants, twice, that I needed to use muscle to pull his arm off of me. When I stood up to leave the room and get away from him, he followed me and raped me. I am a freeze/fawn type of trauma responder, but I did try using my voice to get him to stop. I even tried reminding him that there were other people just 10 feet away, and that they would hear - he said, "so what?" and "I don't care." The next morning, I realized that my genitals where bleeding and in pain, and remained that way for several days. The most damning part of all of this? He sexualized my physical trauma - it actually *turned him on,* and he had no problem with telling me so. It took me many months to stop being in denial about what happened - that someone I was friends with for years, someone who I trusted to keep me safe, violated my personhood in such a deeply degrading way. I strongly believe his mother heard me asking him to stop, as she talked to me after this night happened. She said "he told her everything," that "she woke up to pee during the night and heard us 'banging in the bathroom,'" and she point blank asked me if her own child had raped me. What kind of a mother asks that unless she was a reason to do so, and was either told something or heard something? I didn't connect the dots of that night until recently, but I can say I certainly unconsciously reacted in a trauma response sort of way. I desperately wanted to enter a relationship with him after that night, something I had never truthfully wanted, in a attempt to gain back the control he had taken from me. Because if I could try to form a relationship with him, and we ended up together, it would justify him raping me, right? Of course not, but that's how my brain tried to protect me. I started unraveling without even realizing it. I became hypersexual, putting myself in risky situations by inviting random people over to my home for sex, going over to random people's homes for sex, having unprotected sex. I started changing my appearance. My bulimia flared up. I started smoking again. I lightly confronted him over text last month after I came to terms with what he did to me, and told him that we needed to talk because he seriously violated my boundaries. He responded to say we could "definitely" talk, but I never responded. I need time before I can speak to him. When I do, I want to speak to him in person, not on a phone call, like he wanted. I want to look him right in his dead-eyed face to tell him I know exactly what he did, and I know exactly who he is - he raped me, and he is a rapist. It won't give me justice, it won't make him sorry for what he's done, and I'm at peace with that. I can only hope it will instill a fear in him by making him recognize that I DO have a power he can never take from me as long as I'm alive - my voice. I can tell my story, share it with anyone who I choose to, and there's nothing he can do to stop that. He'd have to kill me first. I haven't told anyone other than my sister/brother in law, one friend, and my therapist about what happened that night, but when I get stronger through therapy and become less scared, I will meet him face-to-face to call him out for what he is. Predator. Abuser. Rapist. I will share my story with more people. Nameis a rapist. I highly doubt he will ever see this post, but in the in the <1% chance you are reading this, Name Initials., I want you to remember that while you sit there and call yourself a "feminist king," YOU are the person articles are referring to when they talk about perpetrators of violence against women. YOU are the person who made your decisions that night, not alcohol. (Too drunk to realize what you were doing, but not too drunk to have sex with my body? Nice try. Funny how I get super drunk with my other friends, and somehow none of them have managed to rape me.) YOU are the one who is responsible for your actions. There was no miscommunication. There was no room for misunderstanding. I was clear with what I was saying, you disregarded and ignored me, and that is on YOU. If you have a conscience, I hope this haunts you for the rest of your time on this earth.

I'm not going to spell check this story I'm talk texting it just so you know. My first memory as a child I was four moving into a new apartment with my mother and my first stepfather. My mother was a 17 year old heroin addict prostitute when she was pregnant with me by some Hells Angels Bikers who obviously never claimed me. She was a terrible I mean she wasn't a bad mother but she wasn't a mother she was just really fun to party with I guess there's always some sort of roof over my head my first stepfather I would watch him beat her unrecognizable to even myself on a regular basis he was an alcoholic and they were both heroin addicts I didn't know this at the time. He was verbally abusive and torturous to me as well as very physically violent from as early as I can remember. One of the times that she escaped him but she always went back of course we stayed with a friend of hers who had a son that was my age we were both five. The boy's grandparents owned a bar and a liquor store where we would stay in there apartment that was attached to them both while our mothers worked at the bar. I would wake up in the middle of the night in front of the TV on the floor with the boys Grandpa's hand in my pants and fingers inside. One night our mothers had gone out partying and back then we didn't have babysitters I'm sure we weren't any older than 6 years old we were sleeping in his mother's waterbed and he offered to do something to me that I would absolutely love and I said yes and he gave me oral the boy that was my age where no older than six at the most and I remember I loved it and he told me he would do it anytime I wanted all I had to do was ask. Parents teach their children Bad Touch no no spots you have to tell but when you're that age and you don't know any different and it feels good the last thing you want to do is tell anyone I remember being extremely mad when he wouldn't do it one time when I asked. My memories of being a child are spotty there's not a lot of them. I never met my real father I didn't know anything about him or my mom being what she was or what she was involved in when she got pregnant I had no clue. She always told me the reason I didn't have a dad was because this guy got her and another girl pregnant at the same time and chose to be with the other girl and we couldn't ruin their family by trying to track him down and he'd be mad cuz he wouldn't want to pay child support. My mother went through a slew of men all being drug dealers I never understood that or got that at the time. My grandparents hated me because I was basically the other woman's grandchild to my grandma my grandma was my step grandma that's a different story all together but she hated me and my mother was a loser drug addict so they both couldn't stand us. Lot of years went by running from physical abuse and share beatings from all of them some things I remember knowing sexually a very young age now looking back I'm 55 now I don't know how I could have known those things other than being involved in them but I think my brain blocked a lot of it out. And the third grade the little boy next door and I used to pose like the Playboy pictures my step dad had in his books naked and have oral. I had an aunt Carla that was when you're older than me when I was eight seven or eight and we experimented sexually together. I was always very sexually aware and spent a better part of my very very young childhood masturbating all of the time everywhere. The times that my mother was in contact with my grandparents we would go to their house for Christmas or Thanksgiving and I had three cousins to brothers and one sister all from the same family and my mom's half brother my uncle. We would all sleep on the floor in the living room together us kids probably up until age of 13 or 14 and I would always wake up at to my cousin Name playing with my privates. He was quite a bit older than me I know the last time we were there together I could not have been more than 13 and he had just come home from the military. My female cousin which I never understood as being wrong we would what she called tickle each other all over every time we spent the night at Grandma's. Now that's weird. When I was 13 I was introduced to my foster parents that I was unaware of apparently I was given to them at 6 months old when my mother went to prison and stayed with them until I was four I don't have one single memory of them or anything about them the entire time I was there I believed that they were my parents they had two sons that were my brothers they were fantastic people they were stereotypical nuclear 2.5 family when I met them at 13. So at that time I was only told that I was there for 6 months I didn't know it was for 4 years I also did not know that she never came to visit me so when Social Services came and took me back from them and gave me to her I did not know her she was a total stranger to me as well as the man she picked me up and took me home with I don't remember any of that until we walked through the door of the bedroom that she told me was mine. Then I proceeded to live in a life of abuse and alcoholism and heroin and cocaine and just party party my mom did never stop being younger partying she just drug me along with her. Basically I went from a perfect life with my foster parents into sexual assault and abuse Etc. I'm also guessing with no explanation for any of it back then as this was in the'70s early '70s. I have no recollection of being parented being taught about life or life lessons or anything like that growing up. I always hated my mother and I never understood why until I learned about being fostered for so long that made sense that I had no connection to her ever. I always only wanted the attention of men I wanted to grow up and be a stripper some men would like me pay attention to me never had any relationship friendship or parental child anything with any of my adults in my life that wasn't sexual. When I told my mother and my grandmother about my cousin assaulting me like that they didn't believe me. On my 21st birthday which is Christmas Eve so we were all together they got me drunk my cousins and that cousin proceeded to tell me that he had been in love with me his whole life and if he didn't know that it would give our grandmother a heart attack he would ask me to marry him he did not believe that it was wrong whatsoever. Skip way way ahead I'm hanging out with Mike female cousin at 21 years old who is insisting that if I ever decide that I want to be with females let her be the first one. Skip forward a little bit more and my second male cousin has invited me to live with him in City because he's doing very well for himself and he wants to give me an opportunity to build my life up go to school whatever which ends because I will not have sexual relations with him at some point and he did not understand how the fact that we share the same blood in our bodies made it wrong none of them did. I'm 55 years old right now and it did not occur to me until just today for some reason who did all that to them because somebody did. So the rest of my story isn't really so important other than I spent my entire years growing up a very pretty little girl young lady and no one ever wanted anything to do with me if it wasn't about sex and I just wanted people to want to be my friend and to like me and I want to hang out with me for anything other than sex notice I had a brain or I was fun or I had a sense of humor that's always been my plight I just want to be noticed and loved. Marrying a narcissist covert narcissist for 20 years did not do that for me. My mother got me addicted to cocaine when I was 15 I quit at 19 and started doing meth which I continued to do until I was 30 something I think and then I got clean and had my second child my first one died when she was born not because of drugs because of genetics I have my son and he fixed me that he fixed me all of me as far as I was concerned four years later we had a daughter oh yeah I forgot I got set up for this guy on a one night stand intentional one night stand for both of us and wake up pregnant and ended up with him a complete covert narcissist for 16 years I raised his child from a previous and then our son that was 4 here's younger then we had a her daughter we had a daughter 4 years later he was not a father he didn't do anything to help in the household with the family you girls know what I mean I don't have to explain that. Put all every one of my whole life was to grow up and have babies and be a wife and be a mom and be the family that I wasn't a part of growing up and I had that and I was so grateful I was so eternally gratefully happy that I thought that my marriage was making me happy it took me a lot of years to realize it wasn't my marriage at all he was a piece of s*** who neglected me it was my children that made me happy I accepted it I had my children and that's all I ever wanted was to grow up and have a family and not be my mother and give my children something that I didn't have which was family and he stuck around so I outweighed the situation and was willing to sacrifice whatever I had to to have that family. Finally after 16 years of it I couldn't take it anymore and for some reason one day I made the mistake of standing up for myself and demanding to not be treated horribly anymore because when all I wanted was to be noticed and loved in life that's exactly what he didn't do he neglected and rejected me day in and day out for decades so I just asked him to stop being mean to me I would beg him for my for his friendship I would beg him to just talk to me anything I knew we weren't in love but we had committed to this family and apparently we're both both going to stick it out I didn't see why we couldn't be a little bit happy birthday could you just please stop being mean and if you can't stop being mean then leave I didn't even ask him to be nice to me just not being mean which he refused and moved out into the park down the street now I'll just jump real forward my kids are 21 and 17 and he has turned them against me and they hate me we followed him across the United States to try to keep things together after he disappeared two days after finding out that our son was cutting himself we've been fighting off and on and we talked and he sat down with our son and promise he wasn't going to go across the country to visit his brother he was going to stick around and we were going to make things work and we were going to help fix him she might send it started cutting because his life was absolutely perfect day in and day out for the first 10 years of his life we never argued we never fought we didn't have problems he never called me names he didn't treat me badly he just didn't treat me like anything I protected him coddled my children and kept them from the evils of the world as much as I could and that was wrong because then when things went bad they had no idea how to handle it and I failed them and I got so wrapped up and trying to put back together or what I knew that they needed and I had messed up and put my own needs first for once which I had never done everything was always for them and I tried so hard to take it back that I lost my mind and I did not behave with any decorum or couth and instead of holding their hands and ushering them through the most difficult part of their life I lost my mind because I didn't know how to go through the most difficult time in mine and I pay for that daily and so do they unfortunately I didn't see any of it while it was happening I really didn't if you were my friend or even my enemy and you were going through the same exact things I went through with this whole situation and my kids and my husband I would have stood right by you and showed you hey you can't do that you know what they need is you got to do this and you got to be like that and I didn't have anyone there for me to help me like that and I didn't see myself I couldn't see me through myself do you know what I mean like the forest in the trees and I didn't see a lot of it until it was so so too late anyway he disappeared without a word went from California to Tennessee and for three straight months did not answer the phone and I continued to lose my mind and spiral deeper and deeper into a abyss of loss of control which was the only thing that I wanted in my life stability control for myself you know never had it growing up so now I'm spiraling deeper and time is going by and my children are getting ignored because I'm too busy going crazy calling texting. I finally make contact with him we talk and talk and talk and over the course of time agreed to reconcile and I will give up everything in California and put my kids in the car and drive to Tennessee to reconcile our family and so I did I gave up everything but the clothes that fit in the car and long story short on that we came to Tennessee just before I left California and just after I gave up everything of ours I learned that he had a girlfriend here and so I just drowned in that crazy uncontrollable crazy b**** face I lost my mind I lost sight and track of everything else but we still had to come out here so skipping over a bunch of Juicy stuff to get here here we came I sent my son first because he had to get signed up and start high school it was his first year of high school and we were waiting for text me to come to be able to afford to get her unbeknownst to me when my son got here at 14 years old instead of his father trying to help him just like his mother wasn't and he'd been cutting hardly my son stayed in a motel with his father and some girl and at that time and laughed my son didn't even know that those things existed my son did not know people did those things to each other he had no clue so he sucked deeper into that Cesspool of no one cares about me I don't matter so for the 3 months he was in Tennessee before his sister and I he never spoke to me once what was he going to say he wouldn't answer the phone to me you would not talk to me and that's when I lost him that was my baby and he has never really spoken to me since other than to tell me I should off myself. So we came to Tennessee and he was horribly horribly worse to me and I just could never understand why he was begging me to come here and then she has treating me like absolute garbage dirt at the same time it never made any sense to me and it drove me crazier and I could not figure out what was wrong with me what is wrong with me what am I doing it all became about me me and I lost my children's love more more more and more and the connection with them got further and further so now the only thing that's ever mattered to me I am completely out of touch with at this point in it and I don't even realize it I don't even realize it. So we got together we broke up we got together we broke up we got together we broke up when I learned that he was now advertising on Craigslist to sleep with men and I'm not lying about this not one but this is embellished if anything this isn't even the half of it I have no reason to b******* I wait a minute so even before that once we were here he left me for this chick and run off to City 2 with her while me and the kids were here in Tennessee and after 6 months of it not working I bought him a bus ticket to come back here because we're both parents right we're both parents and at this point I've been with this human being for 18 years and I don't know anything different anyway my daughter and I had been living in motels because I lost my home when he left for City 2 my son had already moved out from the age of 17 because he said he couldn't put up with her b******* anymore and I didn't blame him so he comes back he doesn't get a job I don't have enough money to afford the motels anymore we send my daughter to my mother-in-law's because she's about to start high school in a few days and we have to buy a tent and go to sleep in the woods until he procures a job and helps me save money to get into a place now . So now I'm living in a two-man tent in the middle of the Woods 2400 Mi away from home where I don't have anybody except for this person that hates me that I hate he saves the money and leaves me in the tent where I have been homeless now over 2 years my children hate me they won't speak to me it's all my fault that I'm a loser homeless person and Drug them across the country so all of that being said. My cousin Name it was the one who diddled my middle grew up to be some sort of Representative in Utah I don't know what his title is he married a woman that had three daughters and all I could think this whole time was I know he did it to them too and how much it disgusts me that this city in Utah has an elected official who is a child predator and a child molester how disgusting it is that people don't see people for what they are or who they are and the first time that I saw him on Facebook about 5 years into my marriage which I was married in 2004 and I contacted him and one of the first things I said was something to the effect of what he had done and his only response was oh now that's where we're going to start are you kidding me. I made an attempt one time and called the the newspaper there and ask them if they'd be interested in a story about their elected official but then when they got back to me i chickened out and never talked to them right now I want to contact his wife and let her know what she's been with this whole time because it makes me sick that he's just like nothing ever happened and there was nothing wrong with it. The good news is I'm not traumatized sexually or you know it didn't make me a w**** or a s*** it didn't make me not want sex it didn't make me gay it didn't make me not gay it didn't make me anything it didn't as disgusting and disturbing as it is to me my favorite way to have sex is the same way that he used to touch me which is bizarre but I'm pretty normal sexually it doesn't plague me it didn't change me as a person it didn't affect my life entirely and completely like some people it doesn't Define me it's never defined me as far as I'm concerned it's something that happens to everyone and when I raised my children it wasn't is it going to happen to them but when is it going to happen and who is it going to be so I guess I saw this site because I was looking up things to try to slyly jab him in the side like a thorn and involve myself in a couple of Facebook conversations he was having with other political members where they were arguing back and forth about Elon Musk doing that Hitler sign and how stupid they were I wanted to tell them because they're so focused on something that doesn't even matter in life that they don't even realize that they're talking to a sex offender child predator child molester but I wanted to do it in them most professional way so I started researching and asking questions on the internet and this is where I ended up somehow. I told the story hundreds of times it doesn't bother me it doesn't make me sad it doesn't make me anything except for disgusted I don't want or anything I dont want people to feel sorry for me or anything like that I just wanted to share my story because the first three that I read each of those stories were a piece of my total story if you added them all up when I was younger .I used to want to write a book because people say oh yeah my mom was an alcoholic or oh yeah my family was into drugs or oh my family was abusive or my family was neglectful I lived a piece of all of those things throughout my growing up all of them some people only experience one or two of those Lifestyles and I dabbled in a little bit of it all and I thought I could write a book where each chapter was dedicated to one section like that and then no matter who picked up the book and read it they would see that they weren't the only ones that there was someone out there that shared what they were going through or went through and they're not crazy and they're not bad and they're not alone so that's why I just puked out all the story which from what I can recall is about 300 times longer than any of the other ones I read sorry for that I hope I at least kept you entertained I could have made the story way more intense and detailed but I've already taken up too much of your time. I'm just curious should I tell her should I ruin her existence and tell her what she's been living with this whole time so she could at least ask her three daughters who are probably grown women at this point what he did to them should I tell his constituents you think that's going too far I mean it was decades ago. But considering the position that he's in in his community I am firmly against a child predator and molester rapist having the ability to be in control of deciding anything for anyone else and in their community I don't even think he's in office anymore I just think that people should know the type of person that they let have control then at the same time then the same thing happened with our president I mean basically basically nobody cared they still elected him so maybe I just want to matter to someone just matter enough for someone to tell you how you know it f*** that guy . The only other thing I got for you is aside from losing my family unit and the only thing that mattered to me my children the reason that I woke up every morning I don't have any other family members everyone's dead except for my molester cousins two of them the Name and the girl and I never had any brothers or sisters or anyone else so I'm all alone out here and it sucks 3,000 miles away from home haven't had a friend in the world for about 5 years now it's crazy I'm glad you could meet me I'm sorry I wasted so much of everyone's time really all I ask is don't you dare even suggest to yourself inside your own head that any of this is b******* it's just my life that's all and it's just some of it.

I need help. When I was around the age of 12-13 , I used to play with my younger cousin sister who was around 5-6 years of age, we once played this game of mother and child and I was the child and we did the act of breast feeding and I think I may have touched her inappropriately(at the time of play I thought this was fun and I did it intentionally. We played few more times but later I realised it was so so wrong). After that I never played that game. But this thing still bugs me and I have insane amount of guilt and shame remembering that act and that my act may have been a cause for her sexual abuse. I really care for my family more than myself and yet I did such an act. I can't get over it and can't share it with anyone.