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Welcome to Our Wave.

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

What feels like the right place to start today?
Story
From a survivor
🇬🇧

PART 2, emotional abuse, cerocion and the breakup

PART 2 The emotional abuse was the worst. I started to feel i was a bad girlfriend. I started to think that all our arguments was because of me and i started to submit to everything we wanted, even if i didn't want to. It was particularly difficult when he proposed loosing our virginity together. I initially said no and that we needed to wait a little bit longer, but through out a few weeks he kept pressuring, subtly but enough for me to feel like i have to say yes. And when we did i tried to stop him because i got cold feet and i didn't like it, but he ignored me💔 After this, I felt annoyed and upset, and i wouldn't speak to him about it. He would just laugh and act like nothing happened. Things got harder when he told me he wanted to marry me. He told me because of his culture he needs to marry me fast otherwise his parents will arrange a marriage with someone else. he told me it would be good because he wants to spend his life with me and he doesn't want anyone else. I shrugged this off as much as I could before it got too intense for me to ignore it. I tried to tell him we need to wait for at least a year but he started panicking about his VISA! Looking back now, he could have been using me, which breaks my heart entirely. When we were talking about marriage, he made me promise not to tell anyone about this (and he did this with the money too). After a lot of wood pecking (my way of saying a lot of nagging, coercion and manipulation) i gave in and said yes. He was very happy and we eager to get married as soon as possible in his home town. I tried to persuade him that we married quietly near where i lived or where he lived, but he seemed too keen to get married where he was from, which now scares me... what could he have been planning? Not too long after i agreed to the marriage, he tried to get £500 pounds because a family member needed it for a medical reason. i refused and told him the most i could give him was 200 (i didn't even have enough for the rest of the month, which i had told him) He agreed with this and left me alone... for the whole of 2 days before trying to manipulate me for £300 more. I refused and things got heated. I found out after that the money i sent for the family member, only a little bit was sent to them and the rest was for his phone data which was only £17!. I was really annoyed about this and when he sense this, he told me he will send the rest over soon. I don't think he ever had. Not too long after, i saw the app i met him on still on his phone. I asked him why he had which he replied by just deleting it. So many difficult things happened, things i am not ready to talk about. But one day, my boss got in touch with someone close to me , because she was worried about me. That person then talked to me, I disregarded all of the concerns before calling him... he went straight into blaming me, refusing to talk on call and texting me. we were still on call but chatting on text because he didn't want to risk anyone hearing the conversation. He started to manipulate me and guilt trip me, turning things on me and being dismissive. As i was reading the messages and trying to get him to talk on the video call not on text, my mum came into my room asking if i was okay. I hung up on him and told her EVERYTHING. It was then i realized i was abused, manipulated, coerced and hurt. As i heard all of this coming out of my mouth, i burst into tears and my mum just had to hold me for ages. It was then that i broke up him, and after a week of crying and having to block him every time he messaged me, i haven't heard from since. Its been 4 months and i have my days where i don't want to get out of bed because i feel like i dont know if my feelings are real or not and i feel my mind isn't my mind. But i also have days where i feel free and i can do what i want, i can talk to who i want and i can hand around with who i want. Its okay to have ups and downs, we'll get there together xx

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  • “It can be really difficult to ask for help when you are struggling. Healing is a huge weight to bear, but you do not need to bear it on your own.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    My COCSA survival story

    Aged 9, my neighbour who wasn't a great deal older than me wanted to play with me all the time. After some time he told me he wanted to show me something which he knew I'd like, it would be good for me but it must not be told to our parents. I said no, sensing it was probably not good territory to go into. But he kept on insisting. He went on so much i eventually said yes. I think I was nervous but also excited and intrigued because it felt a bit like an adventure and fun because no one knew. He had knowledge of something I didn't. I don't remember too many exact details but I know it started out as sexual exploration of our bodies. If often happened on sleep overs. And the aim, I became to gradually understand, was sexual stimulation, mainly of me... and I think this in turn sexually gratified him. This went on for months and turned into, by my calculations, between 18 months - 2 years. (I know I was 11 when it stopped - just before starting secondary school). At some point, he was figuring out and attempting to have sex with me. I've always found this hard to classify as rape because he was a child. Although he wasn't much older than me he was pubescent and I wasn't. So although not fully grown, he was able to penetrate to some degree. I often couldn't breathe under his weight and I also felt sick at the overwhelming nature of it all. But despite this I was still able to orgasm (and this brings alot of shame to me today because I some how feel like I must have wanted it as I didn't say no and my body responded). But in truth, I had no idea that saying no was even an option. It didn't exist. I felt I was doing him a wrong by saying no and so I often just let him do what he wanted. He'd often tell me he loved me, which was simultaneously wanted by me (I was lonely in my own family system), and yet it also felt wrong and I felt objectified and sick. At one point, I became more understanding of how reproduction worked. I became petrified that I would fall pregnant (even though I hadn't started my periods, my belief was I was going to get pregnant), and I started worrying obsessively about it. I couldn't talk to anyone in my family about it because the shame was too strong and I felt at all costs I must keep it hidden. Which I still have to this day. Eventually I told him that I was scared and worried of pregnancy. He seemed surprised like this hadn't crossed his mind. But it wasn't enough to make him stop. So it continued for longer. Eventually I got the courage after what felt like a very long time in agony in this situation I didn't know how to get out of, I decided to tell him I wanted to stop. He begged at first not to. But I held my ground. I said we'd have to stop being friends if he continued asking. And that's when he turned from 'nice' to being emotionally threatening. He told me he was going to tell everyone what I'd done, how disgusting I'd been. And he did infact tell a few people. The damage this period of my life has done to me is indescribable. Mainly the self loathing and shame I've experienced and which formed part of my identity/ my idea of who I am as I developed. It's not a part of my life I can section off and compartmentalise because it's effected how I see the world, myself and other people, resulting in dissociative sypmtoms. I haven't allowed myself to see what I experienced as abuse because he was a child too. I always behoves believed I was bad because I consented. I'm only just realising with therapy that 9 year olds can't consent. That there was a power differential between us in very different and quite subtle ways. But that being trapped in that situation for so long was very real for me. There didn't need to be physical violence to keep me in it. I'm slowly learning to reframe what happened to take the self blame off of me. He was a child too and the reality was we both needed help and were let down by parents who weren't present enough to stop the situation unravelling. He was likely being abused himself. Whilst I have empathy for this side of things, I feel I need to protect my position in what happened because, in cocsa, more often than not, I see the child who does the harmful sexual behaviour as being put before the child who was harmed in terms of their needs. This is because it's necessary to stop that behaviour and because it's assumed they are being abused by another, likely adult, source. But the kid who's been abused has very real consequences to deal with and more often than not cocsa is not treated seriously enough. There's little validation from a societal pov making it hard to speak up and own our experiences openly. I have all the trademark effects of SA and I'm learning to now accept this and try to own it without minimising what happened. In the hope that when I can recognise this myself I can move on.

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  • “To anyone facing something similar, you are not alone. You are worth so much and are loved by so many. You are so much stronger than you realize.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    L

    I don't even remember how old I was. It was around the time when my parents got divorced, I might've been around 6-8, and this happened over multiple years, that's why it's such a blur to me. I used to go to my auntie's house in the holidays on Thursdays, sometimes Fridays too. Every time I would go, my cousin, who is 2/3 years older than me, would do things to me. I think the first time we ever did anything sexual was just kissing, with tongue of course. But as time went on, she began to just eat me out every time I went, I definitely didn't enjoy it, I was just frozen. I tried to tell her to stop so many times, but she would never listen. We would go to the guest bedroom on the third floor, away from everyone and she would ask to play families, where she would be the dad and me the mum, or she would beg me to role play as 'celebrities' with her. She always said she would be the male and me the female. One time, we went to my nan's house, and she dressed me up in scarves, role playing a 'wedding' with me. She even made me kiss her in front of my nan. I don't see how this was so normalized for my nan to not question her forcefully snogging me and picking me up. She even tried to assault me in front of my brother when he was a toddler once. It was terrible when my parents divorced, when I was with my dad, we stayed with her and my auntie. Of course they made me and her sleep together, because they thought we were close. That's when my world caved in, those were the worst years of my life that I can't even remember much of today. I lived in fear of her for years. One day, I just forgot. I forgot about her, I lost most of my memories of what she had done to me, and we grew close again. I was naive, desperate for my older cousin's attention. So, when I was 10, it almost happened again, and I've not been the same since. It was my birthday yesterday, and she came round, acting normal as she always does. It makes me feel sick. She's moving out from her stepdad's house with her mum, and asked if I wanted to sleepover. No. Never again. I don't think I'll ever tell anyone in my family. My best friend and my ex know but, I genuinely think it doesn't even matter because it happened ages ago and nobody would believe me anyways. So much of my childhood is a blur now and I can't help but feel terrified of intimacy yet I think about it so much. Thank uou for reading.

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  • We believe in you. You are strong.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    We're the best a pretending we're fine.

    This story, my story, started 25 or 24 years ago, when I was 7 or 8 years of age. I was sexually abused (once only but enough to make an impact) by my dad, the first person that's meant to protect you. I never told a soul about it, no one but myself knew it during those 25 years, and even I did not want to think about it. As the years went I learnt to put it at the back of my mind, it was to painful, disgusting and worst of all, I was ashamed, ashamed for something I didn't do, but something that someone too close to me did instead. I learnt to push back if that memory ever came back to me. I grew (somehow) very closed to my dad, and pretended that never happened; only last year I learnt that very action has a name, and it's called compartimentalising. It was only last year, when I started to have issues with anxiety to another level that I finally, when I was about to have a nervous break down, decided that it was time to say it out loud. Weirdly enough, I never had considered myself a victim of sexual abuse... and the words 'sexual abuse' were really difficult for me to mention when talking about what happened to me, although, over time I grew used them and more comfortable (it still hurts though). I was on therapy for over 10 months, followed by a 3 months of CTB course, I still have catch up calls with my therapist every now and then. The worst part of my therapy was, what my own body needed, and that was to seek my dad's accountability, the one which, after confronting him, still hasn't acknowledge, and let's be honest, he won't ever do it. But I learnt to move on not expecting that to happened and at least, my dad knows the big impact that one action that happened that one time, has badly affected my throughout these past years, and my present. I discovered that most people that has suffered this type of abuse tend to develop any sort of chronic pain condition, which I did at the age of 13, mostly from what it felt like, was eating me alive from the inside of my body. Discovering the condition I have had for more than half of my life, is there because of my dad, was no easy discovery and that's where the panic attacks started. As you can imagine, and like all of you, it's been a long healing process. My 4 most important things that really helped me through my healing process (unfinished healing process) were: - My support network (my friends as family only found out after and they still don't know who did it). - Exercising, the best thing I have done for my mental health. - An incredible manager at work who supported me throughout my journey - And (unfortunately) antidepressants to manage better anxiety, as it got really bad at some points. I know, my healing isn't over, I know I might never get what I really want which is that accountability, but at least I know that what ever I decide to do, I'm now (mostly) in control, not my dad or my fears. We all still have bad days, but at least now I know, I'm not alone.

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    13 and The Colour Green

    Dedication: To all of the women and children that are fighting domestic abuse. I witnessed domestic violence between my mother and her boyfriend every day from the age of 6 up until the age of 11. I witnessed brutal attacks, one time my mother actually stopped breathing. He was a very jealous man. He wanted me out the way as much as possible. He even resorted to breaking my dogs leg in a fit of rage. My mother became a victim of ‘cuckooing’ by a local gang and was introduced to drugs. Her boyfriend stole from them and my mother was kidnapped. We both had to go into protective living. I stayed with my nan for 2 months not knowing where my mother was or even if she was alive. The gang found my mothers boyfriend and beat him to an inch of his life. My mother was later given an ultimatum; Him or me. She chose me. After us he moved on to another family. Unfortunately those children weren’t so lucky. They all got split up by the care system. It has not been until these past couple of months that I have learned to accept what happened. It has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Confusion, anger and tears. I had to say goodbye to the innocent little girl that was once me. At a crucial time when my child brain was meant to be developing and understanding the world, I had to skip that part completely. I was quickly brought into an adults world. After it all ended I had to build a whole new foundation and create a whole new person. It was almost like Norma Jean transforming into Marilyn Monroe or Beyonce becoming her alter ego Sasha Fierce. Before this, I had no identity. At the age of 6 I was just starting to find my place in the world which was then quickly taken from me. It wouldn’t be until I was 17 that I would have to come face to face with my mothers abuser again. She came home one night in a complete drunken state with him in tow. I looked him dead in the eyes and told him that I was 17 not 7 anymore and I was not afraid of him and he couldn’t hurt us anymore. The police ended up escorting him away. My mother was always encouraging of me and always told me she believed in me and to believe in myself. That I am so grateful for. I am so grateful for life. Every day I would wake up and wonder if that day would be the day I died. I think the way I got through it was fight or flight. My body chose fight. I had a best friend at the time who I am still best friends with to this day. Her mother was also tackling her own demons at home, so our friendship grew closer. My mother ended up having a hard time coming to terms with dealing with what happened. She is unfortunately a shell of person he once was. The song by Jessie J – I Miss Her sums it up perfectly. She is still breathing but she is not really living.

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

    Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    I think anyone who can overcome this kind of trauma is amazing.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Part one of my story: the meeting and financial abuse

    PART ONE: I started to date someone, we i met on a dating app. We video called every day for a month before we met. During that time, i fall for his charms and believed everything he said about himself, although looking back now there was already red flags... for example a couple of lies and not telling me certain details many people wouldn't hesitate to answer in normal situations. When we arranged meeting up, he didn't give me a choice, asking me to go to him. At the time i understood as someone close to him had a personal situation and he needed to be near by. There is a little language barrier because he is from another country, but apart from that the date went really well. He paid for everything and made me feel special. However, things just got weirder... He had told me he was looking for a job, so he was short on money- so i told him i would support when needed, even though i am on apprentice wage myself. At first it started off okay, just little bits of money here and there for little bits he couldn't quite afford. But he started to ask for bigger amounts. i would ask him why he needs that much or if i challenge it because it doesn't seem right, he would manipulate me and use coercion to get to me. Once it worked once, it became and often event, leaving me with no money. It got to the point when it was my time to go to him, i wasn't able to pay for my train. When I told him I was struggling to pay for my trains, he turned on me, gas-lighting and guilt tripping me. This led to me feeling bad and I having to dig into my savings to be able to go and visit him. This became a regular occurrence. (To be continued if possible, the most painful bits I am not ready to share just yet 💔)

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Friends for over 20+ years...my friend's husband

    I'm not sure where to start. I feel like it was my fault. I should have tried harder, ignored more, never gone when he called.. but I didn't and then this happened. I am still coming to terms with it. It happened two days ago. He is my friend's husband. He knows I have an emotionally and sometimes physically abusive husband. He knows and he and his wife, one of my best friends, the godmother of my second, have tried to help. They both came over to the country where I live. Their oldest, whom I adore like my own, is at university here. My friends went back. He texted, asking if I wanted to meet up because my friend had been ill and we couldn't meet this time. I said sure. We had done this a thousand times before. We were very very close friends. We had gone on trips together since the children were 2 and a bit..we were practically family. We hung out, went to each other's houses, spent time together with our families, went to meals alone or with each other's families it was all normal. He had always some across as someone who teased a little, said the odd inappropriate thing, even in front of my friend, his wife and over the 20+ years I had known him, this was just dismissed as part of who he is, we rolled our eyes, raised our eyebrows, laughed a little and carried on. It was never anything else. Until two days ago. His wife had gone back home last week. He was still here. He asked me to come over, we could go to lunch before he went back, I said sure. He then said he was "excited" to see me. I ignored it and in my head just dismissed it as him being silly. He said he would meet me at the train station. When I got there he had some bags, he asked if I minded leaving them at home before lunch. I shrugged, it was at that point totally normal. He lived 5 minutes away by cab, I had been to to the house a zillion times, I was stupid. I got in to the cab and when we went over, he said, let me leave this and come down, he went up stairs. He was dressed up...very well. I was in a hoodie and jeans. I laughed and asked what on earth he was dressed up for. He looked at me and suddenly said, you look good, have you been working out. I laughed..I looked far from good. I am now 48 and years of emotional and physical trauma have taken their toll. I had not coloured my hair, I had lost some weight but I still felt that after two children, I was fat, flabby and ugly. I was cold. He asked me if I wanted a drink. I had some water. It was mid morning. He turned up the heating and asked if we should order in. I said yes because it was so cold outside and I couldn't be bothered going out again...this again, was normal. I kicked my shoes off and crossed my legs under me on the sofa warming my hands on the radiator behind. He laughed and took one hand in his, saying gosh you are freezing.. I didn't think anything of it. I put both hands back on the radiator and said, I'll warm up in a bit. We started talking. He asked me how things were. With my husband, the kids, I asked him. We talked about not being able to meet properly, go on a trip..all normal. His dad was friends with my dad. I asked after his parents, he asked after mine. Again, totally casual. Totally normal. There was a fox in the garden. I remember that. I thought it was cute. He laughed at me saying there are always foxes around here. He asked if I wanted to listen to some music while we waited for the food. I said sure. He put music on and then asked if I wanted to dance. I was taken aback but again, stupidly, stupidly, laughed it off, saying no. I hadn't danced in years. I felt slightly uncomfortable but didn't want to see weird to him so I pulled a couple of cushions around me and snuggled into my little corner of the sofa. He sat at the other end. He pulled his phone out. Asked if I wanted to see what the menus were like, I leaned over and then he tried to nuzzle my neck, he put his arm around me. I got a shock and pushed him off, saying what are you doing, are you mad...what is wrong with you. He said, "don't be so silly, I'm just trying to give you a hug...you've been through so much....you've got so much on your plate. I feel sorry for you. Seriously, don't be so stressed and uptight. relax". I felt foolish so I didn't say anything and he moved away so I thought it was ok. I stretched my back scrolling through the menus because my shoulders hurt. He picked up on it and said, "do you want me to give your shoulders a quick rub". I said, "no, I'm fine.". He came closer. Said, "I'm pretty good at giving massages." I was beginning to think I should leave. I said, "please don't. I'm fine." He said "ok fine" and moved back to just chatting about life, about the country he came and I originally came from which was in political turmoil, we talked about our kids. I relaxed. That's when it happened. The music went off. The blue tooth thingy was behind me. He stood up, went over to put it back on and then leaned over and grabbed my shoulders from behind. I gasped. He is 6'1 or 2" and I am 5"1. He pushed me down on the sofa, came from the side..I still can't really remember how he got there and started kissing me hard. I tried to move, I kept repeating, "stop, stop, stop, stop, why are you doing this. Please stop. You can't do this." He only replied saying, "please, stop struggling..it's only a little kiss. Just one kiss.." but it wasnt. I tried to turn my face. By this point, he was on top of me, holding me down, holding my arms above my head. His legs on either side of mine and his entire weight on me. I couldn't breathe. I tried to speak again and screamed, "stop". He said "stop screaming and kiss me." I turned away and with his free hand, he pressed my cheeks hard so I would open my mouth. He put his tongue in, and wouldn't stop. I couldn't breathe. All I remember was panicking..thinking about my friend, thinking what this would do to her. I couldn't stop him. He turned my face away and then put his tongue in my year. He lifted my top, snapped my bra open and pushed it up and started sucking and licking my breasts, I was sobbing now and saying, "no no no don't do this...please stop..please, please don't do this.." He said, "ok ok..I'm stopping and stuck his hand between my legs. He pulled my head back so it was almost hanging off the sofa and leaned on top of me saying, "lick me" ..I turned my head away and he pulled on my hair and put even more weight on my arms leaning forward and pushing his chest on to me. He brought his hand up again squeezing my cheeks in till I opened my mouth...and then pushed his nipple into my mouth. He put his hand back down between my legs. I was wriggling and moving and I managed to cross my legs. He then pushed hard with one and then the other of his legs, opening mine. I couldn't even think. I think I was in shock. I don't know what happened. I was trying to lift myself off, my arms was aching so much. He pressed his other arm onto my stomach and said, "stop moving so much". He took the button on my jeans off. I screamed again, saying, "please don't. I beg you, please don't. All he said was, "ok. If you beg me I won't" but he carried on. He moved his hand from between my legs, and carried on pressing him mouth on mine, grabbing and twisting my breasts with his other hand. I don't know what happened. I feel like I might have blacked out but I don't think I did because every time I replay it in my head, I knew what he was doing. I remember him murmuring, saying, "he doesn't deserve you, I'll take care of you...he doesn't love you, he hits you, he threatens you, he doesn't deserve you. Let me show you.." I remember thinking, that he must have done this because he thought I was easy. Because I had told him and his wife about what was going on in my marriage. I remember thinking how stupid I was. Then suddenly, he pushed between my legs with his hand. He still had not let go my arms, I said "please stop, I can't breathe." He didn't say anything, but he let go my arms, and really quickly pulled my jeans down with both hand, ripping my panties in the process. I screamed again and tried to get up. He pushed me back down and put his whole weight on me, saying "don't worry, I won't have sex with you because you begged me not to but I bet no one has done this for you in a long time right? Not years maybe right? " I couldn't answer, I was crying and crying. He started putting his fingers inside me and pulling in and out and I couldn't move. I think I went completely limp in shock. He slowly let go my arms again and slid down, pushing my legs apart even further with his head and he put his tongue inside. holding me down from my stomach with his forearm. He kept saying, "let me show you how you should be loved" I don't know why I couldn't fight back harder at this point. I tried so hard before, I just couldn't move. I tried to push him away, push his head away, but I couldn't. All I could do was cry...like I was pathetic and weak. I was so angry with myself for not leaving when I could, I was trying so hard to normalise the signs and then this is where it ended. He kept going, back up to my face and back down for almost an hour and a half I think and then it got worse. He pushed me to the ground, holding me by my hair and asked me to take him in my mouth. He said, "I want you to kneel, I want to watch you..." and I kept saying, "no no please no...and he pulled my head back, saying, don't bite...and stuck himself so far in, I gagged, over and over....he had his legs round my body now and I couldn't stand because my jeans were still near my ankles, he was holding my wrists with one hand and my hair in a tight pony tail at the back. I remember thinking he's going to pull my hair out. I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything, I couldn't get up, I couldn't do anything but keep doing what he was forcing me to do..and then he said, almost like it made it alright.. "don't worry I won't come in your mouth and pulled me back up just before. I just slid off him to the floor and he finally let go but I couldn't get up. I just curled up on the floor sobbing. I hand't even pulled my jeans back up. He finished and then carried me back on to his chest like he cared... started stroking me and saying, "why are you crying, you were amazing..stop crying, it's ok. Your friend will never know unless you tell her and you aren't going to tell her are you... this is our secret...what she doesn't know, won't hurt her.. she'll be fine...don't cry...you were great..I'll be back in July...Are you crying because it's me? It's better like this because we know each other..." he was stroking me and stroking my hair and holding me tightly like somehow, I had been complicit or as if I had said yes...I wanted to scream again, and hit out, now I could...but I couldn't do anything but cry. I let him hold me..I didn't push away..I couldn't. I felt so ashamed, so broken, so dirty and cheap. Then he said, I'm going to order an Uber for you, you can't go back in the train in this state. Go and clean yourself up.. and he pulled my jeans back up with my torn pants inside. He was laughing, saying, "gosh imagine if anyone saw you like this"...I coudn't do anything but just follow. it was like my mind was screaming but my body was just doing what it was told so I just followed him to the bathroom.. he left me there and all I could do was cry sitting on the toilet. I rubbed and rubbed myself with reams of toilet paper...and washed my face..and went back out. I look after two elderly relatives who think the world of him. I couldn't go back home and say anything to them. They are sick and elderly and they wouldn't really be able to comprehend what happened. My hands were shaking. I was shaking. I came out and he hugged me again tightly, saying calm down...you're fine. You're fine. I'll be back in July. Let's do this again. All I could do was shake my head. He kept laughing and then the Uber came. He even put me in and carried my bag in for me. I don't know how I did it, but I managed to calm myself enough to go home and then drive to pick my kids up and then I just washed and washed and washed in the bathroom, told my mum I had a headache and could she manage the kids and binned my clothes which still smelled of him and curled up in bed. The next morning, I got a text from him saying, "all ok?" and I just replied saying, "no..what were you thinking..." he called and told me not to make a big deal of things, that my life and his were more complicated than they needed to be already and to not make it worse, to not make a "thing" of what happened, that he had a lovely time...I hung up. I could not speak. He texted me saying, please don't tell anyone....this is our secret. I'll be back in July. I'll see you then.. I asked him why again, and he said I always liked you. I said but why would you do this. I said no...and he said it is only a little fun..I asked him if he had a bet with someone that he would do this and he said no..I said I feel cheap and horrible. You did this to me and he said, you don't need to, I forced you to.....I feel so horrible. I feel so dirty and used and cheap. I am so angry with myself for not leaving when I had the chance... I told another friend what happened. She wants me to go to police. I can't. It'll ruin his family, mine, his kids...and I love those kids like my own...my friend...I can't do that to anyone....but I can't function...I keep replaying it in my head. I can't stop thinking about it. My hands are shaking all the time...I can't focus. My other friend thought that perhaps writing my story might help. That is why I put so much detail. I am so sorry if it is too much. I wanted to write everything down...to get it all out...I've not told anyone all the details. I'm so sorry if it is too much.. She said it was ok to be angry but that is the other confusing thing...I am not angry...I feel nothing. I feel absolutely nothing. I am angry with myself but not anything else. I am so confused as to why he would do this after 20+ years of friendship. Why did he think it was ok? Do I look easy? By meeting him did I give him the impression it was ok? Why would he do this to me? We were friends..good friends..our families adore each other..why would he risk all that? What does he think of me now? I keep looking at myself and it is mad but I keep thinking, his wife is gorgeous and in great shape and I am flabby and haven't looked after myself at all...why would he do this with me when he has an amazing wife? I don't understand...I don't understand at all....I find myself repulsive...I used to look alright but my marriage has taken a toll...I no longer look anywhere close to what i did before...so why would he do this? And now when I feel like I've hit rock bottom in all aspects of my life...this happens.. If not for my kids..there would not be any point in my life...I'm so humiliated..

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    Story
    From a survivor
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    Brutally Used BY A COP after a traffic stop

    In my original shared story, IT STARTED WITH MY BROTHER, I talked about my abuse from a bird’s eye view. It was my abuse life as I was able to share it at the time. I have been working up to sharing 3 instances of rapes that I only avoided by allowing the men to take what they wanted instead of fighting. The most traumatic of the three incidents I mentioned involved a police officer. This is that account. I was pulled over on my way home from a study group as junior at the university on a week night. We had shared two drinks toward the end. I DO NOT condone driving and drinking but I was not drunk, as the breathalyzer later confirmed. I was pulled over and already had the nerves associated with that, amplified by the fact that I was under the legal drinking age for another three weeks. That is when I first met the cop I will just call SIK. He gave me a creepy vibe when I first saw him and that never stopped. Still, I flirted with him to an extent desperate to not get it huge trouble. He had me get out of the car, take of my hoodie, under which I only had a basic sports bra. It was only sixty degrees or so that night. I was cold and shivering from fear and the temperature. I saw him look at my body with no filter. Another cop car pulled up with two officers while I was doing the field sobriety tests. He had already searched me in an uncomfortable way. One of the officers who arrived was female and also searched me after he had said I had some problems with the sobriety tests. Walking backwards on an imaginary line heel to toe was the only thing I had trouble with. It is hard! The female cop brought out the breath test I had asked for. I blew 0.035. That is less than half the legal limit. At that point SIK said he was just going to follow me home, rather than arrest me, and the other car left. The whole stop took maybe an hour. Cars drove by on the side street I had pulled onto. Headlights and tail lights in the dark. After the other car left SIK talked to me more harshly and threatening than ever. He said a girl like me is probably used to getting away with everything. He asserted that he could still take me to jail anytime he decides as as he takes me home and makes sure I am safe everything I do is still a test. He could bust me for possession of alcohol and I would lose my license. I was scared. I told him my roommate was home. She was a student too and was supposed to be there. After following me inside my apartment I called out for my roommate. Then I checked her room. She was not there! SIK then accused me of lying to a police officer and locked the deadbolt from the inside. He made me stand with my hands on my own dining room wall with my legs spread. I wanted to call her so he could talk to her and confirm she was usually there, but he stopped me and made me just text her to see when she would be home. He gave instruction not to ask or say anything more and checked before I sent it. She was at her sisters and would not be back until late. At that point he took off his utility belt and put it on my kitchen counter. He told me after all he had done for me was no longer free, since I lied to him. His gun was right there next to us. He made sure I saw it and he even twisted it so it was pointed toward me. I was scared and pleading with him. I really was willing to do anything. I am not sure but I think I told him that. He radioed from his shoulder thing that he was taking a “lunch” break. What I definitely remember was when he said he was going to do a proper strip search this time, down to full nudity and asked if I agreed to that. At that point I no longer had a doubt what was happening. I made the mental adjustment but what he did was more than I had prepared for. He gave me vulgar compliments about my body as he blatantly molested me. He kneaded my breasts like dough. He fingered me as asked if you could use a special appendage he had that went farther in. I knew what he meant. I was repulsed but I agreed. After the initial eager sex with me still having my hands on the wall leaning forward he slowed down. I had been hoping it was almost over but he decided to prolong it. He commanded me to my bedroom. He took off all his clothes besides his socks. He complemented his own anatomy and made me agree. His member was well above average in size but I doubt, if he had not had a wedding band on, that he would ever get to use it. He was half bald, had a prominent eyebrow like a neanderthal, and a pale beer belly with lots of moles all over his body. He had a mustache and goatee that did not completely hide his poor complexion that looked like he had scars from severe acne. Almost all men all taller than me but he was short and only towered over me by a few inches. Never had I lied bigger than when I told him what he wanted to hear about being sexy and wanting him. The only truth was about his large penis. SIK spoke a lot, mostly degrading me and confirming that I agree with him. Cliche stuff, like me being a whore, slut, dirty, and liking what he made me do to him, but also asked about my sex life and abuse history. He wanted me to say that my dad and coaches abused me, but I would not lie about that. Instead I told him some of the truth about my brother abusing me. That was probably the worst part. Saying out loud to SIK what I never used to admit to anyone, for his great pleasure, harmed me. That was worse that the physical stuff. Worse than making me kiss him during parts of it. He was also cruel. He tried to gag me and push all the way down my throat while he made him do oral. He pushed my ankles behind my head while he pounded me with his abusing thrusts. I could see the cruel lust in his eyes. I could see his wicked smile. He slapped my face many times, just not very hard. He did spank me hard. He realized he had me captive and vulnerable to his whim and he was finally living his darkest fantasies. I was doing anything he wanted and encouraging it because I wanted it to stop. So many times he stopped himself right before he was going to climax! He did not want it to end. SIK tried to have anal sex with me and I was accommodating him but he was just too big to fit. I was crying during most of this out of pain but trying to act like an eager partner to make it end. I later thought that might have prolonged it. SIK was probably the time that would prefer I suffer more, like I was being raped instead of hiding my pain. It was not much longer than twenty minutes but it was so bad and I relived it so many times in my mind before I got smashed drunk and high the next night after work. So the memory lived much more prominently in my head than a simple 25 minute encounter. I do reach climax easily, but I never had one orgasm from him because of his preference for causing sexual pain. When he suddenly released inside me he got quiet and barely said another word as he dressed, gun belt and all, and left quietly. I have no idea what that meant. It scared me. I was afraid while driving for a while, and avoided sleeping at home as much as I could, which sometimes meant sleeping with men and even male friends just to not go home. It was the main reason I did not renew my lease and moved it to a smaller apartment by myself. This was the same roommate whose father had already slept with me without my initial blessing. I did tell my roommate a short version of it and she reacted like it was cool story. I did kind of tell it that way, as a way of dealing with it. The easy path of least resistance. To not admit it may have been the worse sexual thing to happen to me. The true worst things that happened to me in my college years were broken hearts from losing men I loved. But those are stories for a different forum. I don’t put my heart out there to be trampled anymore. This incident was one of the wake up calls that stood out as an omen for me to change my whole lifestyle and try to salvage myself. It was also one of the things that took me the longest to mention to my therapist even though I thought about it during sessions.

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  • We all have the ability to be allies and support the survivors in our lives.

    Story
    From a survivor
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    #566

    Hi, I'm Name, and this is my story. If I was to go back to 8 years old me and tell her everything that was waiting for her in the future. She wouldn’t believe you… She wouldn’t be able to understand how something so objectively wrong could happen to someone so sweet and innocent like herself. Growing up I have realised that a lot of shit happens to a lot of people. It’s life, and we are put here to experience life, but that doesn’t mean we should be silent about the bad things that we go through. Change starts with one person at a time… In September 2021, I was spiked , sexually assaulted and robbed in the same night. I had been out with a friend and we had met two guys. I remembered everything up until this very moment but the rest was in blurry snippets. I had no control of what was happening when I was snapping in and out of consciousness. I woke up the next morning in a panic with my clothes stripped from my body. My phone and macbook had been taken from my bedroom and my front door was wide open. Life suddenly became very scary and very confusing. The experience didn’t just stop at the assault. There was so much more to come. DNA testing, interviews after interviews with the police, getting told it was his word against mine, getting told I would just be seen as a drunk uni student… The list was endless. I was forced to move out of my house because I couldn't bear to live there anymore. I couldn't sleep in that bedroom anymore. I would never be able to feel safe in that home again. At that time , I felt absolutely disgusted with myself. I felt ashamed and worthless and even felt strange around my own family for a while, I couldn't look at myself without feeling sick. All I could picture was 8 year old me. That little innocent girl, full of so much purity, love and happiness. Someone did that to her… I suffered with PTSD for a while and this affected every aspect of my life, including my sex life, self worth, education and mental health. I am now experiencing PTG ( Post Traumatic Growth ) . PTG is the positive psychological growth that a person might experience after enduring a traumatic event. Recently I have seen a shift in how I view life. I have become more spiritually aware and can control my emotions better than ever. I do this by observing my thoughts which I practise through meditation. This allows me to see the positive outcomes of any situation. I have stopped asking “Why did this have to happen to me?” and started asking “Why is this happening?”. I’ve begun channelling my emotions through my Design practice which has led me to have a stronger outlook on my situation. However I realise that this is not the case for many other women and I feel lucky to have gotten where I am mentally. I want to tell my story , not just for me but for other women. For all the women that have experienced any form or sexual assault or harassment. I want you to know that it’s not okay. It's not normal and we shouldn't be quiet about it. These are our bodies and our vessels and nobody should ever be able to just do what they want with it and say what they want about it. It's not right. We shouldn't have to feel unsafe walking home at night, we shouldn't have to hold our keys in between our knuckles, we shouldn't have to avoid certain routes home because of the lighting in the area, we shouldn't have to pull down our skirts to stop men from getting aroused, we shouldn’t have to cover our drinks when we go out, we shouldn't have to pretend to be on the phone in order to feel safe, we shouldn't have to avoid getting on public transport because we are scared of getting groped, we shouldn't be verbally and physically abused… We shouldn't have to stay silent. I’m not going to stay silent

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Abused by an Apathetic

    I met name on Tinder at the end of February 2022. A week later I went over to his to talk but he kept making requests for me to perform oral sex on him I kept telling him I wasn't ready and I haven't done it before. When I stopped during it he slapped me across my face and got angry because he said "once you start you can't stop". I was traumatised when he orgasmed into my mouth and I couldn't process what just happened. He then said he didn't believe me when I said NO and that I shouldn't use the word rape because his neighbours could hear and he could get arrested. He showed no remorse and that made me feel even worse so I ended up apologising to him. The following time we met at his apartment we were cuddling and he kept asking for oral sex and said "just do it and get it over with because I am not gonna stop... you're making it difficult". The more times I said NO the angrier his voice got, and he said " you should want to make me feel good... do it or get the **** away from me". He would also threaten to throw me out of his apartment past midnight and I was too scared to walk home that time. I would usually end up following his demands even though I felt my boundaries being violated each time, worse of all when I told him how he made me felt he would say "I don't give a **** and **** off". When it came to sex I felt pressurised to say Yes and when I came to his apartment I told him I wasn't ready. At first he tried taking off my clothes, I was scared and he said " let it happen" I kept saying NO even with all my clothes off. He got really frustrated because I wanted to put my clothes back on and so he said " if you're not gonna **** me get the **** out... if you're not gonna **** me then why did you act like you were". I wanted to cry but instead I apologised. When we first started to have sex it was way too painful for me I kept bleeding and telling name I'm in pain, can we stop please? repeatedly. He would either say NO when I moved away from him, he kept getting angry and said " stop saying that it's not stimulating for me". I kept saying NO to which he replied "I don't care, I just wanna have sex." From that I remember seeing blood drip down to my legs. One time I tried moving away from him during sex so he slapped my face, hit my back and said "I nearly got it in" in frustration. I fell onto the bed. Following things he would say was that I am working against him during sex because I wasn't letting him properly penetrate me, " You should enjoy it, other girls would enjoy it... you don't even like sex".

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Healing to me is being able to use my pain and turn it into strength

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    COCSA Girl on Girl

    I am female and I was sexually assaulted by a female friend when we were 9 years old. I want to share this because I cannot seem to find another story on female on female COCSA and it makes me feel like what happened to me wasn't "bad enough" because it was a girl and it was another child my age. I know that thought isn't true but it has taken me a while to realise what happened was assault and was "bad enough" and I think it would have helped if I had heard stories similar to mine, so I am hoping this could help someone who has been in the same situation as me. It happened when I was around 8 or 9 years old. I don't remember everything from start to finish or how many times it happened but then other parts of it (like surroundings and smells) are so vivid. I will just share what I remember. I don't know what led up to this point but the the first memory I have is just me laying on my back on my bed and she was on top of me pinning me down and I was scared and trying to wriggle away and get her off me. I remember the smirk on her face, it's like she found it funny and she was enjoying watching me squirm. I remember trying to hard to get her off me but at the same time not wanting to hurt her because she was my friend. So I wasn't hitting or being aggressive I was just trying to wriggle out from under her while she was sat on top of me on my stomach/chest. This friend was a nice friend who was not aggressive or nasty so I think this is what made it all even more confusing. I don't even think she knows she did something wrong? I have no idea. I feel so embarrassed to say the following but I am going to do it because its anonymous and it could maybe help someone feel better about what happened to them. I remember her pulling down her trousers while still straddling/hovering over me. As soon she she did this I was TERRYFIED. I was so scared. Next thing I remember is her bum coming towards me and sitting on my face. I feel so embarrassed saying this, it sounds so stupid but it was so scary and I didn't want it. The next thing I remember is her above me again and facing me (trousers were still down) with her vagina out for me to see and near my face. I remember her touching her vagina with her fingers and then trying to touch my mouth with her fingers/put her fingers in my mouth. I was so so so scared and doing everything I could to move my head away and make sure her fingers didn't touch me. I remember the smell of her vagina and I have imagine of it close to my face but I can't remember if it touched my face. I was so scared. I remember feeling so confused and also terrified my mum was going to walk in. I knew what was happening wasn't right. I don't remember much else except from those two flash backs and then I remember pretending to go to sleep after in a different bed. I don't know why I didn't hit her to get her off me or scream for my mum to hear, I don't know why i felt scared that my mum was going to come in, as is I was the one doing something wrong? I liked this friend, she was nice and not a bully so i think it made it more confusing because I didn't want to be mean or hurt her or anyone to think badly of her. Another memory I have after that is having a sleepover round her house and I just remember feeling uncomfortable and I remember she was wearing a night-dress with no underwear and we had to share a bed and I felt so uncomfortable and I didn't want to be close to her in bed. I have icky feeling about that night but I can't remember if anything happened. I am now 24 years old and finally now only realising that what happened to me was COCSA and realising how much it has effected me. I have suffered with depression for years and been on medication for the last 8 years. I've always wondered why my depression wouldn't go away. I have no reason to be sad, I have a good family, lots of friends, a job, a great boyfriend... yet I can't seem to shake the depression off. I have repressed the memories of what happened that day for 11 years and I have no idea why it has all come up to the front of my mind now but I now just can't seem to ignore it. It's all I've though about for 2 weeks and I can't believe its taken me this long to realise what happened and to realise that that situation has cause so many issue in my life. I was such a happy child and I was so innocent. She exposed me to things I didn't know about and shouldn't have known about. I was too young. It left me confused and ashamed. I then have memories of me masturbating and watching porn and even one time I showed another friend porn. I feel awful that I showed someone else my age porn when we were so young. None of us should have been exposed to that. I even feel sorry for the girl who assaulted me because I can't help but think she must have been getting abused herself because why else would she know the things she was doing? I don't hold any anger towards her because I don't think she meant to cause this harm to me. For years I have felt great shame. I have questioned my own sexuality for years because of it. I have questioned if I enjoyed it? I have had so many confusing feelings about it. I have tried to hard to forget about it and have managed to go years at a time without the memory resurfacing. I have felt so much hatred and shame towards myself. I haven't been able to pin-point why I felt that way until now that these memories have come back. I told my boyfriend but he didn't deal with it well. He cried, which made me feel worse about what happened. I feel the urge to speak to someone about it because I can't stop thinking about what happened. It makes me feel anxious like I'm going to have a panic attack. It feels like its so close to coming out of my mouth and I just NEED to tell someone. I want to tell my mum or sister but I am so scared they are going to judge me. I'm scared they will think I'm weird. Or that it's not a big deal. I don't think I actually could let the words come out of my mouth to tell my family. When I reflect my teenage/adult years, a lot more things make sense. My depression, self-loathing, shame, low self-esteem.. all makes more sense. I have been a people pleaser my whole life and have been awful at setting boundaries for myself. I have continuously let friends, boyfriends and people in power cross my boundaries. I feel like I haven't respected myself very much in some ways and I regret not sticking up for myself when I have been in uncomfortable situations. 1st example: When I was 17, my driving instructor (who was in his 40's or 50's, married and had a daughter my age) made a few inappropriate comments. One of those being about me giving him a blow job and another time about me kissing me. Which I awkwardly laughed and didn't say anything to which he seemed offended and then said "I'll take that as a no then". I still didn't say anything and just felt awkward and changed subject. I continued to have lessons with him. I should have told him he's a disgusting pervert and never got back in his car again. But I felt bad and didn't want to upset him. My brother also has the same driving instructor and really liked him and I didn't want to cause any issue or for people to think badly of the instructor. 2nd example: When I was 12 or 13, I sat next to a boy in English class. He put his had on my thigh. I told him no and pulled his hand away. He kept trying to do it again and I kept saying no and pulling his hand away. I was not sexually active yet, nor did I want to be and I didn't even fancy this boy. I thought he was disgusting. He didn't stop and ending up touching me through my knickers. I remember being scared and uncomfortable. I didn't want him to do it but I didn't want to get him in trouble or draw attention to it. I was scared the teacher would see and we would maybe both be in trouble. I can't remember how it ended but I think eventually he took no for an answer. Once again, I now regret not shouting "what are you doing? get off me!" I don't understand why i was so scared about making other people upset or making other look bad? I was choosing that over my own comfort/boundaries. 3rd example: From ages 18-21, I was in an emotionally abusive relationship (which also got physical on a few occasions). I let that boyfriend strip me of any self- confidence I had left. He constantly belittled me, made me question my own experiences, gas-lit me, scared me, pushed me to the ground/off the bed when he was angry, smash things around me when he was angry, tell me I'm dumb, disgusting, embarrassing, pathetic. I was so manipulated by him, I was just the shell of my former self by the end of that relationship. When I look back at the relationship, I realise how much it affected me and also how wrong some things were (including sexual things). After a couple of years in the relationship, I didn't often want to be sexual with him because he was horrible to me and made me feel like sh*t and I started to resent him eventually. I would never kiss him or go near him sexually. He would sometimes be nice to me and It was great and I felt loved and then we would have sex and INSTANTLY after he would stop making any effort or being affectionate to me at all. As soon as he got what he wanted he would just switch back to how he normally was. Towards the end of the relationship shit, when we would have sex, I was just doing it because he wanted to do it not because I wanted to. I would just lay there and hope he would hurry up and finish. I could tell he didn't care about me or my pleasure either. He would just f*ck me like a object until he was finished. It was all for him, not me. To add to that, most of these encounters were after he had convinced/persuaded me to have sex after I said I wasn't in the mood for sex. On several occasions he asked me to perform oral on him and I told him I didn't want to. He wouldn't stop asking until I gave in. He would beg for it until I caved and did it. He even offered to take me for dinner or give me money if I did it (which I obviously declined). It just shows how little respect he had for me, my own boyfriend of 3 years was trying to bribe me into sexual favours when he knows I didn't want to do it. I remember multiple times after he kept going on and on trying to persuade me to give him oral, I would finally say "okay fine but just so you know, I don't want to do it so it won't be very good/it probably won't be very enjoyable" and he still wanted me to do it. I'm literally saying I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS and he still didn't care, he just wanted what he wanted. I feel as though I am getting better at boundaries and I think I am ready to go to therapy about what happened when I was 9 and my last relationship. I can't help by think what happened when I was 9 is the reason for why I am how I am. I never understood why I was so depressed. None of my family or friends could understand why because in there eyes "I had it all" and had a great life. I also think what happened when I was 9 is the reason why I ended up in an abusive relationship and ended up being such a people pleaser and not being good at setting boundaries and just letting people disrespect me. I really hope one day I can live a happy life. I hope sharing this helps someone else who experience COCSA and/or female on female sexual assault, realise it is just as wrong and just as valid.

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  • Welcome to Our Wave.

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

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    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    PART 2, emotional abuse, cerocion and the breakup

    PART 2 The emotional abuse was the worst. I started to feel i was a bad girlfriend. I started to think that all our arguments was because of me and i started to submit to everything we wanted, even if i didn't want to. It was particularly difficult when he proposed loosing our virginity together. I initially said no and that we needed to wait a little bit longer, but through out a few weeks he kept pressuring, subtly but enough for me to feel like i have to say yes. And when we did i tried to stop him because i got cold feet and i didn't like it, but he ignored me💔 After this, I felt annoyed and upset, and i wouldn't speak to him about it. He would just laugh and act like nothing happened. Things got harder when he told me he wanted to marry me. He told me because of his culture he needs to marry me fast otherwise his parents will arrange a marriage with someone else. he told me it would be good because he wants to spend his life with me and he doesn't want anyone else. I shrugged this off as much as I could before it got too intense for me to ignore it. I tried to tell him we need to wait for at least a year but he started panicking about his VISA! Looking back now, he could have been using me, which breaks my heart entirely. When we were talking about marriage, he made me promise not to tell anyone about this (and he did this with the money too). After a lot of wood pecking (my way of saying a lot of nagging, coercion and manipulation) i gave in and said yes. He was very happy and we eager to get married as soon as possible in his home town. I tried to persuade him that we married quietly near where i lived or where he lived, but he seemed too keen to get married where he was from, which now scares me... what could he have been planning? Not too long after i agreed to the marriage, he tried to get £500 pounds because a family member needed it for a medical reason. i refused and told him the most i could give him was 200 (i didn't even have enough for the rest of the month, which i had told him) He agreed with this and left me alone... for the whole of 2 days before trying to manipulate me for £300 more. I refused and things got heated. I found out after that the money i sent for the family member, only a little bit was sent to them and the rest was for his phone data which was only £17!. I was really annoyed about this and when he sense this, he told me he will send the rest over soon. I don't think he ever had. Not too long after, i saw the app i met him on still on his phone. I asked him why he had which he replied by just deleting it. So many difficult things happened, things i am not ready to talk about. But one day, my boss got in touch with someone close to me , because she was worried about me. That person then talked to me, I disregarded all of the concerns before calling him... he went straight into blaming me, refusing to talk on call and texting me. we were still on call but chatting on text because he didn't want to risk anyone hearing the conversation. He started to manipulate me and guilt trip me, turning things on me and being dismissive. As i was reading the messages and trying to get him to talk on the video call not on text, my mum came into my room asking if i was okay. I hung up on him and told her EVERYTHING. It was then i realized i was abused, manipulated, coerced and hurt. As i heard all of this coming out of my mouth, i burst into tears and my mum just had to hold me for ages. It was then that i broke up him, and after a week of crying and having to block him every time he messaged me, i haven't heard from since. Its been 4 months and i have my days where i don't want to get out of bed because i feel like i dont know if my feelings are real or not and i feel my mind isn't my mind. But i also have days where i feel free and i can do what i want, i can talk to who i want and i can hand around with who i want. Its okay to have ups and downs, we'll get there together xx

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Part one of my story: the meeting and financial abuse

    PART ONE: I started to date someone, we i met on a dating app. We video called every day for a month before we met. During that time, i fall for his charms and believed everything he said about himself, although looking back now there was already red flags... for example a couple of lies and not telling me certain details many people wouldn't hesitate to answer in normal situations. When we arranged meeting up, he didn't give me a choice, asking me to go to him. At the time i understood as someone close to him had a personal situation and he needed to be near by. There is a little language barrier because he is from another country, but apart from that the date went really well. He paid for everything and made me feel special. However, things just got weirder... He had told me he was looking for a job, so he was short on money- so i told him i would support when needed, even though i am on apprentice wage myself. At first it started off okay, just little bits of money here and there for little bits he couldn't quite afford. But he started to ask for bigger amounts. i would ask him why he needs that much or if i challenge it because it doesn't seem right, he would manipulate me and use coercion to get to me. Once it worked once, it became and often event, leaving me with no money. It got to the point when it was my time to go to him, i wasn't able to pay for my train. When I told him I was struggling to pay for my trains, he turned on me, gas-lighting and guilt tripping me. This led to me feeling bad and I having to dig into my savings to be able to go and visit him. This became a regular occurrence. (To be continued if possible, the most painful bits I am not ready to share just yet 💔)

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    #566

    Hi, I'm Name, and this is my story. If I was to go back to 8 years old me and tell her everything that was waiting for her in the future. She wouldn’t believe you… She wouldn’t be able to understand how something so objectively wrong could happen to someone so sweet and innocent like herself. Growing up I have realised that a lot of shit happens to a lot of people. It’s life, and we are put here to experience life, but that doesn’t mean we should be silent about the bad things that we go through. Change starts with one person at a time… In September 2021, I was spiked , sexually assaulted and robbed in the same night. I had been out with a friend and we had met two guys. I remembered everything up until this very moment but the rest was in blurry snippets. I had no control of what was happening when I was snapping in and out of consciousness. I woke up the next morning in a panic with my clothes stripped from my body. My phone and macbook had been taken from my bedroom and my front door was wide open. Life suddenly became very scary and very confusing. The experience didn’t just stop at the assault. There was so much more to come. DNA testing, interviews after interviews with the police, getting told it was his word against mine, getting told I would just be seen as a drunk uni student… The list was endless. I was forced to move out of my house because I couldn't bear to live there anymore. I couldn't sleep in that bedroom anymore. I would never be able to feel safe in that home again. At that time , I felt absolutely disgusted with myself. I felt ashamed and worthless and even felt strange around my own family for a while, I couldn't look at myself without feeling sick. All I could picture was 8 year old me. That little innocent girl, full of so much purity, love and happiness. Someone did that to her… I suffered with PTSD for a while and this affected every aspect of my life, including my sex life, self worth, education and mental health. I am now experiencing PTG ( Post Traumatic Growth ) . PTG is the positive psychological growth that a person might experience after enduring a traumatic event. Recently I have seen a shift in how I view life. I have become more spiritually aware and can control my emotions better than ever. I do this by observing my thoughts which I practise through meditation. This allows me to see the positive outcomes of any situation. I have stopped asking “Why did this have to happen to me?” and started asking “Why is this happening?”. I’ve begun channelling my emotions through my Design practice which has led me to have a stronger outlook on my situation. However I realise that this is not the case for many other women and I feel lucky to have gotten where I am mentally. I want to tell my story , not just for me but for other women. For all the women that have experienced any form or sexual assault or harassment. I want you to know that it’s not okay. It's not normal and we shouldn't be quiet about it. These are our bodies and our vessels and nobody should ever be able to just do what they want with it and say what they want about it. It's not right. We shouldn't have to feel unsafe walking home at night, we shouldn't have to hold our keys in between our knuckles, we shouldn't have to avoid certain routes home because of the lighting in the area, we shouldn't have to pull down our skirts to stop men from getting aroused, we shouldn’t have to cover our drinks when we go out, we shouldn't have to pretend to be on the phone in order to feel safe, we shouldn't have to avoid getting on public transport because we are scared of getting groped, we shouldn't be verbally and physically abused… We shouldn't have to stay silent. I’m not going to stay silent

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Healing to me is being able to use my pain and turn it into strength

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  • “It can be really difficult to ask for help when you are struggling. Healing is a huge weight to bear, but you do not need to bear it on your own.”

    “To anyone facing something similar, you are not alone. You are worth so much and are loved by so many. You are so much stronger than you realize.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    L

    I don't even remember how old I was. It was around the time when my parents got divorced, I might've been around 6-8, and this happened over multiple years, that's why it's such a blur to me. I used to go to my auntie's house in the holidays on Thursdays, sometimes Fridays too. Every time I would go, my cousin, who is 2/3 years older than me, would do things to me. I think the first time we ever did anything sexual was just kissing, with tongue of course. But as time went on, she began to just eat me out every time I went, I definitely didn't enjoy it, I was just frozen. I tried to tell her to stop so many times, but she would never listen. We would go to the guest bedroom on the third floor, away from everyone and she would ask to play families, where she would be the dad and me the mum, or she would beg me to role play as 'celebrities' with her. She always said she would be the male and me the female. One time, we went to my nan's house, and she dressed me up in scarves, role playing a 'wedding' with me. She even made me kiss her in front of my nan. I don't see how this was so normalized for my nan to not question her forcefully snogging me and picking me up. She even tried to assault me in front of my brother when he was a toddler once. It was terrible when my parents divorced, when I was with my dad, we stayed with her and my auntie. Of course they made me and her sleep together, because they thought we were close. That's when my world caved in, those were the worst years of my life that I can't even remember much of today. I lived in fear of her for years. One day, I just forgot. I forgot about her, I lost most of my memories of what she had done to me, and we grew close again. I was naive, desperate for my older cousin's attention. So, when I was 10, it almost happened again, and I've not been the same since. It was my birthday yesterday, and she came round, acting normal as she always does. It makes me feel sick. She's moving out from her stepdad's house with her mum, and asked if I wanted to sleepover. No. Never again. I don't think I'll ever tell anyone in my family. My best friend and my ex know but, I genuinely think it doesn't even matter because it happened ages ago and nobody would believe me anyways. So much of my childhood is a blur now and I can't help but feel terrified of intimacy yet I think about it so much. Thank uou for reading.

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  • We believe in you. You are strong.

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

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

    You are wonderful, strong, and worthy. From one survivor to another.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Brutally Used BY A COP after a traffic stop

    In my original shared story, IT STARTED WITH MY BROTHER, I talked about my abuse from a bird’s eye view. It was my abuse life as I was able to share it at the time. I have been working up to sharing 3 instances of rapes that I only avoided by allowing the men to take what they wanted instead of fighting. The most traumatic of the three incidents I mentioned involved a police officer. This is that account. I was pulled over on my way home from a study group as junior at the university on a week night. We had shared two drinks toward the end. I DO NOT condone driving and drinking but I was not drunk, as the breathalyzer later confirmed. I was pulled over and already had the nerves associated with that, amplified by the fact that I was under the legal drinking age for another three weeks. That is when I first met the cop I will just call SIK. He gave me a creepy vibe when I first saw him and that never stopped. Still, I flirted with him to an extent desperate to not get it huge trouble. He had me get out of the car, take of my hoodie, under which I only had a basic sports bra. It was only sixty degrees or so that night. I was cold and shivering from fear and the temperature. I saw him look at my body with no filter. Another cop car pulled up with two officers while I was doing the field sobriety tests. He had already searched me in an uncomfortable way. One of the officers who arrived was female and also searched me after he had said I had some problems with the sobriety tests. Walking backwards on an imaginary line heel to toe was the only thing I had trouble with. It is hard! The female cop brought out the breath test I had asked for. I blew 0.035. That is less than half the legal limit. At that point SIK said he was just going to follow me home, rather than arrest me, and the other car left. The whole stop took maybe an hour. Cars drove by on the side street I had pulled onto. Headlights and tail lights in the dark. After the other car left SIK talked to me more harshly and threatening than ever. He said a girl like me is probably used to getting away with everything. He asserted that he could still take me to jail anytime he decides as as he takes me home and makes sure I am safe everything I do is still a test. He could bust me for possession of alcohol and I would lose my license. I was scared. I told him my roommate was home. She was a student too and was supposed to be there. After following me inside my apartment I called out for my roommate. Then I checked her room. She was not there! SIK then accused me of lying to a police officer and locked the deadbolt from the inside. He made me stand with my hands on my own dining room wall with my legs spread. I wanted to call her so he could talk to her and confirm she was usually there, but he stopped me and made me just text her to see when she would be home. He gave instruction not to ask or say anything more and checked before I sent it. She was at her sisters and would not be back until late. At that point he took off his utility belt and put it on my kitchen counter. He told me after all he had done for me was no longer free, since I lied to him. His gun was right there next to us. He made sure I saw it and he even twisted it so it was pointed toward me. I was scared and pleading with him. I really was willing to do anything. I am not sure but I think I told him that. He radioed from his shoulder thing that he was taking a “lunch” break. What I definitely remember was when he said he was going to do a proper strip search this time, down to full nudity and asked if I agreed to that. At that point I no longer had a doubt what was happening. I made the mental adjustment but what he did was more than I had prepared for. He gave me vulgar compliments about my body as he blatantly molested me. He kneaded my breasts like dough. He fingered me as asked if you could use a special appendage he had that went farther in. I knew what he meant. I was repulsed but I agreed. After the initial eager sex with me still having my hands on the wall leaning forward he slowed down. I had been hoping it was almost over but he decided to prolong it. He commanded me to my bedroom. He took off all his clothes besides his socks. He complemented his own anatomy and made me agree. His member was well above average in size but I doubt, if he had not had a wedding band on, that he would ever get to use it. He was half bald, had a prominent eyebrow like a neanderthal, and a pale beer belly with lots of moles all over his body. He had a mustache and goatee that did not completely hide his poor complexion that looked like he had scars from severe acne. Almost all men all taller than me but he was short and only towered over me by a few inches. Never had I lied bigger than when I told him what he wanted to hear about being sexy and wanting him. The only truth was about his large penis. SIK spoke a lot, mostly degrading me and confirming that I agree with him. Cliche stuff, like me being a whore, slut, dirty, and liking what he made me do to him, but also asked about my sex life and abuse history. He wanted me to say that my dad and coaches abused me, but I would not lie about that. Instead I told him some of the truth about my brother abusing me. That was probably the worst part. Saying out loud to SIK what I never used to admit to anyone, for his great pleasure, harmed me. That was worse that the physical stuff. Worse than making me kiss him during parts of it. He was also cruel. He tried to gag me and push all the way down my throat while he made him do oral. He pushed my ankles behind my head while he pounded me with his abusing thrusts. I could see the cruel lust in his eyes. I could see his wicked smile. He slapped my face many times, just not very hard. He did spank me hard. He realized he had me captive and vulnerable to his whim and he was finally living his darkest fantasies. I was doing anything he wanted and encouraging it because I wanted it to stop. So many times he stopped himself right before he was going to climax! He did not want it to end. SIK tried to have anal sex with me and I was accommodating him but he was just too big to fit. I was crying during most of this out of pain but trying to act like an eager partner to make it end. I later thought that might have prolonged it. SIK was probably the time that would prefer I suffer more, like I was being raped instead of hiding my pain. It was not much longer than twenty minutes but it was so bad and I relived it so many times in my mind before I got smashed drunk and high the next night after work. So the memory lived much more prominently in my head than a simple 25 minute encounter. I do reach climax easily, but I never had one orgasm from him because of his preference for causing sexual pain. When he suddenly released inside me he got quiet and barely said another word as he dressed, gun belt and all, and left quietly. I have no idea what that meant. It scared me. I was afraid while driving for a while, and avoided sleeping at home as much as I could, which sometimes meant sleeping with men and even male friends just to not go home. It was the main reason I did not renew my lease and moved it to a smaller apartment by myself. This was the same roommate whose father had already slept with me without my initial blessing. I did tell my roommate a short version of it and she reacted like it was cool story. I did kind of tell it that way, as a way of dealing with it. The easy path of least resistance. To not admit it may have been the worse sexual thing to happen to me. The true worst things that happened to me in my college years were broken hearts from losing men I loved. But those are stories for a different forum. I don’t put my heart out there to be trampled anymore. This incident was one of the wake up calls that stood out as an omen for me to change my whole lifestyle and try to salvage myself. It was also one of the things that took me the longest to mention to my therapist even though I thought about it during sessions.

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  • We all have the ability to be allies and support the survivors in our lives.

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    My COCSA survival story

    Aged 9, my neighbour who wasn't a great deal older than me wanted to play with me all the time. After some time he told me he wanted to show me something which he knew I'd like, it would be good for me but it must not be told to our parents. I said no, sensing it was probably not good territory to go into. But he kept on insisting. He went on so much i eventually said yes. I think I was nervous but also excited and intrigued because it felt a bit like an adventure and fun because no one knew. He had knowledge of something I didn't. I don't remember too many exact details but I know it started out as sexual exploration of our bodies. If often happened on sleep overs. And the aim, I became to gradually understand, was sexual stimulation, mainly of me... and I think this in turn sexually gratified him. This went on for months and turned into, by my calculations, between 18 months - 2 years. (I know I was 11 when it stopped - just before starting secondary school). At some point, he was figuring out and attempting to have sex with me. I've always found this hard to classify as rape because he was a child. Although he wasn't much older than me he was pubescent and I wasn't. So although not fully grown, he was able to penetrate to some degree. I often couldn't breathe under his weight and I also felt sick at the overwhelming nature of it all. But despite this I was still able to orgasm (and this brings alot of shame to me today because I some how feel like I must have wanted it as I didn't say no and my body responded). But in truth, I had no idea that saying no was even an option. It didn't exist. I felt I was doing him a wrong by saying no and so I often just let him do what he wanted. He'd often tell me he loved me, which was simultaneously wanted by me (I was lonely in my own family system), and yet it also felt wrong and I felt objectified and sick. At one point, I became more understanding of how reproduction worked. I became petrified that I would fall pregnant (even though I hadn't started my periods, my belief was I was going to get pregnant), and I started worrying obsessively about it. I couldn't talk to anyone in my family about it because the shame was too strong and I felt at all costs I must keep it hidden. Which I still have to this day. Eventually I told him that I was scared and worried of pregnancy. He seemed surprised like this hadn't crossed his mind. But it wasn't enough to make him stop. So it continued for longer. Eventually I got the courage after what felt like a very long time in agony in this situation I didn't know how to get out of, I decided to tell him I wanted to stop. He begged at first not to. But I held my ground. I said we'd have to stop being friends if he continued asking. And that's when he turned from 'nice' to being emotionally threatening. He told me he was going to tell everyone what I'd done, how disgusting I'd been. And he did infact tell a few people. The damage this period of my life has done to me is indescribable. Mainly the self loathing and shame I've experienced and which formed part of my identity/ my idea of who I am as I developed. It's not a part of my life I can section off and compartmentalise because it's effected how I see the world, myself and other people, resulting in dissociative sypmtoms. I haven't allowed myself to see what I experienced as abuse because he was a child too. I always behoves believed I was bad because I consented. I'm only just realising with therapy that 9 year olds can't consent. That there was a power differential between us in very different and quite subtle ways. But that being trapped in that situation for so long was very real for me. There didn't need to be physical violence to keep me in it. I'm slowly learning to reframe what happened to take the self blame off of me. He was a child too and the reality was we both needed help and were let down by parents who weren't present enough to stop the situation unravelling. He was likely being abused himself. Whilst I have empathy for this side of things, I feel I need to protect my position in what happened because, in cocsa, more often than not, I see the child who does the harmful sexual behaviour as being put before the child who was harmed in terms of their needs. This is because it's necessary to stop that behaviour and because it's assumed they are being abused by another, likely adult, source. But the kid who's been abused has very real consequences to deal with and more often than not cocsa is not treated seriously enough. There's little validation from a societal pov making it hard to speak up and own our experiences openly. I have all the trademark effects of SA and I'm learning to now accept this and try to own it without minimising what happened. In the hope that when I can recognise this myself I can move on.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    We're the best a pretending we're fine.

    This story, my story, started 25 or 24 years ago, when I was 7 or 8 years of age. I was sexually abused (once only but enough to make an impact) by my dad, the first person that's meant to protect you. I never told a soul about it, no one but myself knew it during those 25 years, and even I did not want to think about it. As the years went I learnt to put it at the back of my mind, it was to painful, disgusting and worst of all, I was ashamed, ashamed for something I didn't do, but something that someone too close to me did instead. I learnt to push back if that memory ever came back to me. I grew (somehow) very closed to my dad, and pretended that never happened; only last year I learnt that very action has a name, and it's called compartimentalising. It was only last year, when I started to have issues with anxiety to another level that I finally, when I was about to have a nervous break down, decided that it was time to say it out loud. Weirdly enough, I never had considered myself a victim of sexual abuse... and the words 'sexual abuse' were really difficult for me to mention when talking about what happened to me, although, over time I grew used them and more comfortable (it still hurts though). I was on therapy for over 10 months, followed by a 3 months of CTB course, I still have catch up calls with my therapist every now and then. The worst part of my therapy was, what my own body needed, and that was to seek my dad's accountability, the one which, after confronting him, still hasn't acknowledge, and let's be honest, he won't ever do it. But I learnt to move on not expecting that to happened and at least, my dad knows the big impact that one action that happened that one time, has badly affected my throughout these past years, and my present. I discovered that most people that has suffered this type of abuse tend to develop any sort of chronic pain condition, which I did at the age of 13, mostly from what it felt like, was eating me alive from the inside of my body. Discovering the condition I have had for more than half of my life, is there because of my dad, was no easy discovery and that's where the panic attacks started. As you can imagine, and like all of you, it's been a long healing process. My 4 most important things that really helped me through my healing process (unfinished healing process) were: - My support network (my friends as family only found out after and they still don't know who did it). - Exercising, the best thing I have done for my mental health. - An incredible manager at work who supported me throughout my journey - And (unfortunately) antidepressants to manage better anxiety, as it got really bad at some points. I know, my healing isn't over, I know I might never get what I really want which is that accountability, but at least I know that what ever I decide to do, I'm now (mostly) in control, not my dad or my fears. We all still have bad days, but at least now I know, I'm not alone.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    13 and The Colour Green

    Dedication: To all of the women and children that are fighting domestic abuse. I witnessed domestic violence between my mother and her boyfriend every day from the age of 6 up until the age of 11. I witnessed brutal attacks, one time my mother actually stopped breathing. He was a very jealous man. He wanted me out the way as much as possible. He even resorted to breaking my dogs leg in a fit of rage. My mother became a victim of ‘cuckooing’ by a local gang and was introduced to drugs. Her boyfriend stole from them and my mother was kidnapped. We both had to go into protective living. I stayed with my nan for 2 months not knowing where my mother was or even if she was alive. The gang found my mothers boyfriend and beat him to an inch of his life. My mother was later given an ultimatum; Him or me. She chose me. After us he moved on to another family. Unfortunately those children weren’t so lucky. They all got split up by the care system. It has not been until these past couple of months that I have learned to accept what happened. It has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Confusion, anger and tears. I had to say goodbye to the innocent little girl that was once me. At a crucial time when my child brain was meant to be developing and understanding the world, I had to skip that part completely. I was quickly brought into an adults world. After it all ended I had to build a whole new foundation and create a whole new person. It was almost like Norma Jean transforming into Marilyn Monroe or Beyonce becoming her alter ego Sasha Fierce. Before this, I had no identity. At the age of 6 I was just starting to find my place in the world which was then quickly taken from me. It wouldn’t be until I was 17 that I would have to come face to face with my mothers abuser again. She came home one night in a complete drunken state with him in tow. I looked him dead in the eyes and told him that I was 17 not 7 anymore and I was not afraid of him and he couldn’t hurt us anymore. The police ended up escorting him away. My mother was always encouraging of me and always told me she believed in me and to believe in myself. That I am so grateful for. I am so grateful for life. Every day I would wake up and wonder if that day would be the day I died. I think the way I got through it was fight or flight. My body chose fight. I had a best friend at the time who I am still best friends with to this day. Her mother was also tackling her own demons at home, so our friendship grew closer. My mother ended up having a hard time coming to terms with dealing with what happened. She is unfortunately a shell of person he once was. The song by Jessie J – I Miss Her sums it up perfectly. She is still breathing but she is not really living.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    I think anyone who can overcome this kind of trauma is amazing.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Friends for over 20+ years...my friend's husband

    I'm not sure where to start. I feel like it was my fault. I should have tried harder, ignored more, never gone when he called.. but I didn't and then this happened. I am still coming to terms with it. It happened two days ago. He is my friend's husband. He knows I have an emotionally and sometimes physically abusive husband. He knows and he and his wife, one of my best friends, the godmother of my second, have tried to help. They both came over to the country where I live. Their oldest, whom I adore like my own, is at university here. My friends went back. He texted, asking if I wanted to meet up because my friend had been ill and we couldn't meet this time. I said sure. We had done this a thousand times before. We were very very close friends. We had gone on trips together since the children were 2 and a bit..we were practically family. We hung out, went to each other's houses, spent time together with our families, went to meals alone or with each other's families it was all normal. He had always some across as someone who teased a little, said the odd inappropriate thing, even in front of my friend, his wife and over the 20+ years I had known him, this was just dismissed as part of who he is, we rolled our eyes, raised our eyebrows, laughed a little and carried on. It was never anything else. Until two days ago. His wife had gone back home last week. He was still here. He asked me to come over, we could go to lunch before he went back, I said sure. He then said he was "excited" to see me. I ignored it and in my head just dismissed it as him being silly. He said he would meet me at the train station. When I got there he had some bags, he asked if I minded leaving them at home before lunch. I shrugged, it was at that point totally normal. He lived 5 minutes away by cab, I had been to to the house a zillion times, I was stupid. I got in to the cab and when we went over, he said, let me leave this and come down, he went up stairs. He was dressed up...very well. I was in a hoodie and jeans. I laughed and asked what on earth he was dressed up for. He looked at me and suddenly said, you look good, have you been working out. I laughed..I looked far from good. I am now 48 and years of emotional and physical trauma have taken their toll. I had not coloured my hair, I had lost some weight but I still felt that after two children, I was fat, flabby and ugly. I was cold. He asked me if I wanted a drink. I had some water. It was mid morning. He turned up the heating and asked if we should order in. I said yes because it was so cold outside and I couldn't be bothered going out again...this again, was normal. I kicked my shoes off and crossed my legs under me on the sofa warming my hands on the radiator behind. He laughed and took one hand in his, saying gosh you are freezing.. I didn't think anything of it. I put both hands back on the radiator and said, I'll warm up in a bit. We started talking. He asked me how things were. With my husband, the kids, I asked him. We talked about not being able to meet properly, go on a trip..all normal. His dad was friends with my dad. I asked after his parents, he asked after mine. Again, totally casual. Totally normal. There was a fox in the garden. I remember that. I thought it was cute. He laughed at me saying there are always foxes around here. He asked if I wanted to listen to some music while we waited for the food. I said sure. He put music on and then asked if I wanted to dance. I was taken aback but again, stupidly, stupidly, laughed it off, saying no. I hadn't danced in years. I felt slightly uncomfortable but didn't want to see weird to him so I pulled a couple of cushions around me and snuggled into my little corner of the sofa. He sat at the other end. He pulled his phone out. Asked if I wanted to see what the menus were like, I leaned over and then he tried to nuzzle my neck, he put his arm around me. I got a shock and pushed him off, saying what are you doing, are you mad...what is wrong with you. He said, "don't be so silly, I'm just trying to give you a hug...you've been through so much....you've got so much on your plate. I feel sorry for you. Seriously, don't be so stressed and uptight. relax". I felt foolish so I didn't say anything and he moved away so I thought it was ok. I stretched my back scrolling through the menus because my shoulders hurt. He picked up on it and said, "do you want me to give your shoulders a quick rub". I said, "no, I'm fine.". He came closer. Said, "I'm pretty good at giving massages." I was beginning to think I should leave. I said, "please don't. I'm fine." He said "ok fine" and moved back to just chatting about life, about the country he came and I originally came from which was in political turmoil, we talked about our kids. I relaxed. That's when it happened. The music went off. The blue tooth thingy was behind me. He stood up, went over to put it back on and then leaned over and grabbed my shoulders from behind. I gasped. He is 6'1 or 2" and I am 5"1. He pushed me down on the sofa, came from the side..I still can't really remember how he got there and started kissing me hard. I tried to move, I kept repeating, "stop, stop, stop, stop, why are you doing this. Please stop. You can't do this." He only replied saying, "please, stop struggling..it's only a little kiss. Just one kiss.." but it wasnt. I tried to turn my face. By this point, he was on top of me, holding me down, holding my arms above my head. His legs on either side of mine and his entire weight on me. I couldn't breathe. I tried to speak again and screamed, "stop". He said "stop screaming and kiss me." I turned away and with his free hand, he pressed my cheeks hard so I would open my mouth. He put his tongue in, and wouldn't stop. I couldn't breathe. All I remember was panicking..thinking about my friend, thinking what this would do to her. I couldn't stop him. He turned my face away and then put his tongue in my year. He lifted my top, snapped my bra open and pushed it up and started sucking and licking my breasts, I was sobbing now and saying, "no no no don't do this...please stop..please, please don't do this.." He said, "ok ok..I'm stopping and stuck his hand between my legs. He pulled my head back so it was almost hanging off the sofa and leaned on top of me saying, "lick me" ..I turned my head away and he pulled on my hair and put even more weight on my arms leaning forward and pushing his chest on to me. He brought his hand up again squeezing my cheeks in till I opened my mouth...and then pushed his nipple into my mouth. He put his hand back down between my legs. I was wriggling and moving and I managed to cross my legs. He then pushed hard with one and then the other of his legs, opening mine. I couldn't even think. I think I was in shock. I don't know what happened. I was trying to lift myself off, my arms was aching so much. He pressed his other arm onto my stomach and said, "stop moving so much". He took the button on my jeans off. I screamed again, saying, "please don't. I beg you, please don't. All he said was, "ok. If you beg me I won't" but he carried on. He moved his hand from between my legs, and carried on pressing him mouth on mine, grabbing and twisting my breasts with his other hand. I don't know what happened. I feel like I might have blacked out but I don't think I did because every time I replay it in my head, I knew what he was doing. I remember him murmuring, saying, "he doesn't deserve you, I'll take care of you...he doesn't love you, he hits you, he threatens you, he doesn't deserve you. Let me show you.." I remember thinking, that he must have done this because he thought I was easy. Because I had told him and his wife about what was going on in my marriage. I remember thinking how stupid I was. Then suddenly, he pushed between my legs with his hand. He still had not let go my arms, I said "please stop, I can't breathe." He didn't say anything, but he let go my arms, and really quickly pulled my jeans down with both hand, ripping my panties in the process. I screamed again and tried to get up. He pushed me back down and put his whole weight on me, saying "don't worry, I won't have sex with you because you begged me not to but I bet no one has done this for you in a long time right? Not years maybe right? " I couldn't answer, I was crying and crying. He started putting his fingers inside me and pulling in and out and I couldn't move. I think I went completely limp in shock. He slowly let go my arms again and slid down, pushing my legs apart even further with his head and he put his tongue inside. holding me down from my stomach with his forearm. He kept saying, "let me show you how you should be loved" I don't know why I couldn't fight back harder at this point. I tried so hard before, I just couldn't move. I tried to push him away, push his head away, but I couldn't. All I could do was cry...like I was pathetic and weak. I was so angry with myself for not leaving when I could, I was trying so hard to normalise the signs and then this is where it ended. He kept going, back up to my face and back down for almost an hour and a half I think and then it got worse. He pushed me to the ground, holding me by my hair and asked me to take him in my mouth. He said, "I want you to kneel, I want to watch you..." and I kept saying, "no no please no...and he pulled my head back, saying, don't bite...and stuck himself so far in, I gagged, over and over....he had his legs round my body now and I couldn't stand because my jeans were still near my ankles, he was holding my wrists with one hand and my hair in a tight pony tail at the back. I remember thinking he's going to pull my hair out. I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything, I couldn't get up, I couldn't do anything but keep doing what he was forcing me to do..and then he said, almost like it made it alright.. "don't worry I won't come in your mouth and pulled me back up just before. I just slid off him to the floor and he finally let go but I couldn't get up. I just curled up on the floor sobbing. I hand't even pulled my jeans back up. He finished and then carried me back on to his chest like he cared... started stroking me and saying, "why are you crying, you were amazing..stop crying, it's ok. Your friend will never know unless you tell her and you aren't going to tell her are you... this is our secret...what she doesn't know, won't hurt her.. she'll be fine...don't cry...you were great..I'll be back in July...Are you crying because it's me? It's better like this because we know each other..." he was stroking me and stroking my hair and holding me tightly like somehow, I had been complicit or as if I had said yes...I wanted to scream again, and hit out, now I could...but I couldn't do anything but cry. I let him hold me..I didn't push away..I couldn't. I felt so ashamed, so broken, so dirty and cheap. Then he said, I'm going to order an Uber for you, you can't go back in the train in this state. Go and clean yourself up.. and he pulled my jeans back up with my torn pants inside. He was laughing, saying, "gosh imagine if anyone saw you like this"...I coudn't do anything but just follow. it was like my mind was screaming but my body was just doing what it was told so I just followed him to the bathroom.. he left me there and all I could do was cry sitting on the toilet. I rubbed and rubbed myself with reams of toilet paper...and washed my face..and went back out. I look after two elderly relatives who think the world of him. I couldn't go back home and say anything to them. They are sick and elderly and they wouldn't really be able to comprehend what happened. My hands were shaking. I was shaking. I came out and he hugged me again tightly, saying calm down...you're fine. You're fine. I'll be back in July. Let's do this again. All I could do was shake my head. He kept laughing and then the Uber came. He even put me in and carried my bag in for me. I don't know how I did it, but I managed to calm myself enough to go home and then drive to pick my kids up and then I just washed and washed and washed in the bathroom, told my mum I had a headache and could she manage the kids and binned my clothes which still smelled of him and curled up in bed. The next morning, I got a text from him saying, "all ok?" and I just replied saying, "no..what were you thinking..." he called and told me not to make a big deal of things, that my life and his were more complicated than they needed to be already and to not make it worse, to not make a "thing" of what happened, that he had a lovely time...I hung up. I could not speak. He texted me saying, please don't tell anyone....this is our secret. I'll be back in July. I'll see you then.. I asked him why again, and he said I always liked you. I said but why would you do this. I said no...and he said it is only a little fun..I asked him if he had a bet with someone that he would do this and he said no..I said I feel cheap and horrible. You did this to me and he said, you don't need to, I forced you to.....I feel so horrible. I feel so dirty and used and cheap. I am so angry with myself for not leaving when I had the chance... I told another friend what happened. She wants me to go to police. I can't. It'll ruin his family, mine, his kids...and I love those kids like my own...my friend...I can't do that to anyone....but I can't function...I keep replaying it in my head. I can't stop thinking about it. My hands are shaking all the time...I can't focus. My other friend thought that perhaps writing my story might help. That is why I put so much detail. I am so sorry if it is too much. I wanted to write everything down...to get it all out...I've not told anyone all the details. I'm so sorry if it is too much.. She said it was ok to be angry but that is the other confusing thing...I am not angry...I feel nothing. I feel absolutely nothing. I am angry with myself but not anything else. I am so confused as to why he would do this after 20+ years of friendship. Why did he think it was ok? Do I look easy? By meeting him did I give him the impression it was ok? Why would he do this to me? We were friends..good friends..our families adore each other..why would he risk all that? What does he think of me now? I keep looking at myself and it is mad but I keep thinking, his wife is gorgeous and in great shape and I am flabby and haven't looked after myself at all...why would he do this with me when he has an amazing wife? I don't understand...I don't understand at all....I find myself repulsive...I used to look alright but my marriage has taken a toll...I no longer look anywhere close to what i did before...so why would he do this? And now when I feel like I've hit rock bottom in all aspects of my life...this happens.. If not for my kids..there would not be any point in my life...I'm so humiliated..

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    Abused by an Apathetic

    I met name on Tinder at the end of February 2022. A week later I went over to his to talk but he kept making requests for me to perform oral sex on him I kept telling him I wasn't ready and I haven't done it before. When I stopped during it he slapped me across my face and got angry because he said "once you start you can't stop". I was traumatised when he orgasmed into my mouth and I couldn't process what just happened. He then said he didn't believe me when I said NO and that I shouldn't use the word rape because his neighbours could hear and he could get arrested. He showed no remorse and that made me feel even worse so I ended up apologising to him. The following time we met at his apartment we were cuddling and he kept asking for oral sex and said "just do it and get it over with because I am not gonna stop... you're making it difficult". The more times I said NO the angrier his voice got, and he said " you should want to make me feel good... do it or get the **** away from me". He would also threaten to throw me out of his apartment past midnight and I was too scared to walk home that time. I would usually end up following his demands even though I felt my boundaries being violated each time, worse of all when I told him how he made me felt he would say "I don't give a **** and **** off". When it came to sex I felt pressurised to say Yes and when I came to his apartment I told him I wasn't ready. At first he tried taking off my clothes, I was scared and he said " let it happen" I kept saying NO even with all my clothes off. He got really frustrated because I wanted to put my clothes back on and so he said " if you're not gonna **** me get the **** out... if you're not gonna **** me then why did you act like you were". I wanted to cry but instead I apologised. When we first started to have sex it was way too painful for me I kept bleeding and telling name I'm in pain, can we stop please? repeatedly. He would either say NO when I moved away from him, he kept getting angry and said " stop saying that it's not stimulating for me". I kept saying NO to which he replied "I don't care, I just wanna have sex." From that I remember seeing blood drip down to my legs. One time I tried moving away from him during sex so he slapped my face, hit my back and said "I nearly got it in" in frustration. I fell onto the bed. Following things he would say was that I am working against him during sex because I wasn't letting him properly penetrate me, " You should enjoy it, other girls would enjoy it... you don't even like sex".

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    COCSA Girl on Girl

    I am female and I was sexually assaulted by a female friend when we were 9 years old. I want to share this because I cannot seem to find another story on female on female COCSA and it makes me feel like what happened to me wasn't "bad enough" because it was a girl and it was another child my age. I know that thought isn't true but it has taken me a while to realise what happened was assault and was "bad enough" and I think it would have helped if I had heard stories similar to mine, so I am hoping this could help someone who has been in the same situation as me. It happened when I was around 8 or 9 years old. I don't remember everything from start to finish or how many times it happened but then other parts of it (like surroundings and smells) are so vivid. I will just share what I remember. I don't know what led up to this point but the the first memory I have is just me laying on my back on my bed and she was on top of me pinning me down and I was scared and trying to wriggle away and get her off me. I remember the smirk on her face, it's like she found it funny and she was enjoying watching me squirm. I remember trying to hard to get her off me but at the same time not wanting to hurt her because she was my friend. So I wasn't hitting or being aggressive I was just trying to wriggle out from under her while she was sat on top of me on my stomach/chest. This friend was a nice friend who was not aggressive or nasty so I think this is what made it all even more confusing. I don't even think she knows she did something wrong? I have no idea. I feel so embarrassed to say the following but I am going to do it because its anonymous and it could maybe help someone feel better about what happened to them. I remember her pulling down her trousers while still straddling/hovering over me. As soon she she did this I was TERRYFIED. I was so scared. Next thing I remember is her bum coming towards me and sitting on my face. I feel so embarrassed saying this, it sounds so stupid but it was so scary and I didn't want it. The next thing I remember is her above me again and facing me (trousers were still down) with her vagina out for me to see and near my face. I remember her touching her vagina with her fingers and then trying to touch my mouth with her fingers/put her fingers in my mouth. I was so so so scared and doing everything I could to move my head away and make sure her fingers didn't touch me. I remember the smell of her vagina and I have imagine of it close to my face but I can't remember if it touched my face. I was so scared. I remember feeling so confused and also terrified my mum was going to walk in. I knew what was happening wasn't right. I don't remember much else except from those two flash backs and then I remember pretending to go to sleep after in a different bed. I don't know why I didn't hit her to get her off me or scream for my mum to hear, I don't know why i felt scared that my mum was going to come in, as is I was the one doing something wrong? I liked this friend, she was nice and not a bully so i think it made it more confusing because I didn't want to be mean or hurt her or anyone to think badly of her. Another memory I have after that is having a sleepover round her house and I just remember feeling uncomfortable and I remember she was wearing a night-dress with no underwear and we had to share a bed and I felt so uncomfortable and I didn't want to be close to her in bed. I have icky feeling about that night but I can't remember if anything happened. I am now 24 years old and finally now only realising that what happened to me was COCSA and realising how much it has effected me. I have suffered with depression for years and been on medication for the last 8 years. I've always wondered why my depression wouldn't go away. I have no reason to be sad, I have a good family, lots of friends, a job, a great boyfriend... yet I can't seem to shake the depression off. I have repressed the memories of what happened that day for 11 years and I have no idea why it has all come up to the front of my mind now but I now just can't seem to ignore it. It's all I've though about for 2 weeks and I can't believe its taken me this long to realise what happened and to realise that that situation has cause so many issue in my life. I was such a happy child and I was so innocent. She exposed me to things I didn't know about and shouldn't have known about. I was too young. It left me confused and ashamed. I then have memories of me masturbating and watching porn and even one time I showed another friend porn. I feel awful that I showed someone else my age porn when we were so young. None of us should have been exposed to that. I even feel sorry for the girl who assaulted me because I can't help but think she must have been getting abused herself because why else would she know the things she was doing? I don't hold any anger towards her because I don't think she meant to cause this harm to me. For years I have felt great shame. I have questioned my own sexuality for years because of it. I have questioned if I enjoyed it? I have had so many confusing feelings about it. I have tried to hard to forget about it and have managed to go years at a time without the memory resurfacing. I have felt so much hatred and shame towards myself. I haven't been able to pin-point why I felt that way until now that these memories have come back. I told my boyfriend but he didn't deal with it well. He cried, which made me feel worse about what happened. I feel the urge to speak to someone about it because I can't stop thinking about what happened. It makes me feel anxious like I'm going to have a panic attack. It feels like its so close to coming out of my mouth and I just NEED to tell someone. I want to tell my mum or sister but I am so scared they are going to judge me. I'm scared they will think I'm weird. Or that it's not a big deal. I don't think I actually could let the words come out of my mouth to tell my family. When I reflect my teenage/adult years, a lot more things make sense. My depression, self-loathing, shame, low self-esteem.. all makes more sense. I have been a people pleaser my whole life and have been awful at setting boundaries for myself. I have continuously let friends, boyfriends and people in power cross my boundaries. I feel like I haven't respected myself very much in some ways and I regret not sticking up for myself when I have been in uncomfortable situations. 1st example: When I was 17, my driving instructor (who was in his 40's or 50's, married and had a daughter my age) made a few inappropriate comments. One of those being about me giving him a blow job and another time about me kissing me. Which I awkwardly laughed and didn't say anything to which he seemed offended and then said "I'll take that as a no then". I still didn't say anything and just felt awkward and changed subject. I continued to have lessons with him. I should have told him he's a disgusting pervert and never got back in his car again. But I felt bad and didn't want to upset him. My brother also has the same driving instructor and really liked him and I didn't want to cause any issue or for people to think badly of the instructor. 2nd example: When I was 12 or 13, I sat next to a boy in English class. He put his had on my thigh. I told him no and pulled his hand away. He kept trying to do it again and I kept saying no and pulling his hand away. I was not sexually active yet, nor did I want to be and I didn't even fancy this boy. I thought he was disgusting. He didn't stop and ending up touching me through my knickers. I remember being scared and uncomfortable. I didn't want him to do it but I didn't want to get him in trouble or draw attention to it. I was scared the teacher would see and we would maybe both be in trouble. I can't remember how it ended but I think eventually he took no for an answer. Once again, I now regret not shouting "what are you doing? get off me!" I don't understand why i was so scared about making other people upset or making other look bad? I was choosing that over my own comfort/boundaries. 3rd example: From ages 18-21, I was in an emotionally abusive relationship (which also got physical on a few occasions). I let that boyfriend strip me of any self- confidence I had left. He constantly belittled me, made me question my own experiences, gas-lit me, scared me, pushed me to the ground/off the bed when he was angry, smash things around me when he was angry, tell me I'm dumb, disgusting, embarrassing, pathetic. I was so manipulated by him, I was just the shell of my former self by the end of that relationship. When I look back at the relationship, I realise how much it affected me and also how wrong some things were (including sexual things). After a couple of years in the relationship, I didn't often want to be sexual with him because he was horrible to me and made me feel like sh*t and I started to resent him eventually. I would never kiss him or go near him sexually. He would sometimes be nice to me and It was great and I felt loved and then we would have sex and INSTANTLY after he would stop making any effort or being affectionate to me at all. As soon as he got what he wanted he would just switch back to how he normally was. Towards the end of the relationship shit, when we would have sex, I was just doing it because he wanted to do it not because I wanted to. I would just lay there and hope he would hurry up and finish. I could tell he didn't care about me or my pleasure either. He would just f*ck me like a object until he was finished. It was all for him, not me. To add to that, most of these encounters were after he had convinced/persuaded me to have sex after I said I wasn't in the mood for sex. On several occasions he asked me to perform oral on him and I told him I didn't want to. He wouldn't stop asking until I gave in. He would beg for it until I caved and did it. He even offered to take me for dinner or give me money if I did it (which I obviously declined). It just shows how little respect he had for me, my own boyfriend of 3 years was trying to bribe me into sexual favours when he knows I didn't want to do it. I remember multiple times after he kept going on and on trying to persuade me to give him oral, I would finally say "okay fine but just so you know, I don't want to do it so it won't be very good/it probably won't be very enjoyable" and he still wanted me to do it. I'm literally saying I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS and he still didn't care, he just wanted what he wanted. I feel as though I am getting better at boundaries and I think I am ready to go to therapy about what happened when I was 9 and my last relationship. I can't help by think what happened when I was 9 is the reason for why I am how I am. I never understood why I was so depressed. None of my family or friends could understand why because in there eyes "I had it all" and had a great life. I also think what happened when I was 9 is the reason why I ended up in an abusive relationship and ended up being such a people pleaser and not being good at setting boundaries and just letting people disrespect me. I really hope one day I can live a happy life. I hope sharing this helps someone else who experience COCSA and/or female on female sexual assault, realise it is just as wrong and just as valid.

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