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I Say No More because there are too many of us living and struggle with our everyday lives because we are ashamed about what another person has done to us. Me for an example; my abuse was on and off throughout my childhood. The longest lasted 4 years. By me staying silent for so long, to I have PTSD, Emotional Disorder and Depression. I had to learn how to gain control of my life that I didn't know for the longest that I could. I'm taking it one step at a time. See those people may have took away my childhood but they couldn't take away my LOVE, JOY and now my PEACE away.

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 💔)

Hello, My name is Name & I would like to share one of my poems to (hopefully) be read at Event😊 This poem is called "He Didn't Hit Me" and it is based on my own personal experience with an abusive relationship. I hope that anyone reading this poem & it resonates with them will take comfort in knowing that they are not alone ❤️ He Didn't Hit Me He didn't hit me, but his words cut like a knife, He didn't hit me, but he upended my life. He didn't hit me, but he made false accusations, He didn't hit me, but he had unreasonable expectations. He didn't hit me, but destroyed my hopes & dreams, He didn't hit me but ripped my confidence at the seams. He didn't hit me, but I always had to take the blame, For his shortcomings, moods & his manipulative game. Abuse isn't just physical, this I know to be true, Gaslighting & manipulation are powerful tools, Knowing I deserve better, I am finally free, For I am much more than what he tried to make of me.

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

I experienced COCSA, but no one really takes it seriously. This isn't my only experience of sexual violence. I was forcibly sexually assaulted at 19 by a friend, someone tried to kidnap me as a kid for presumably sexual reasons, I experienced sexual harassment from peers in secondary school for years because my bullies figured out sexual topics made me uncomfortable, I faced creeps following me home, old men commenting on my body when I was around 11 and one asking me to "dance" for him, faced people online trying to groom me into sending nudes when I was still a minor (fortunately I never took any). Plenty of non sexual trauma and abuse on top of that. But, for me, the COCSA was the worst trauma. I don't know why that one impacts me so much. We were just kids and he couldn't have fully understood the damage he was causing, so why was it the hardest one to cope with? I always hesitate to use the words "sexual abuse" when I talk about this, but in terms of what it did to my brain, that's what it was. When I was 6, a boy my age would take me into a part of the playground hidden from anyone else and would make me suck his penis. I'd say no, that it was gross, I didn't want to. But he was one of my only friends at the time, and I was terrified of losing friends because I was experiencing a lot of difficult things at home. It didn't start off like this, we had become friends for a bit before this and he leaned me into it. First by doing normal kid things like showing me his genitals, progressing to asking me to touch it, then lick it, suck it, and once even bite it. I still remember how it felt, and it still fills me with panic. It wasn't painful or anything, it just felt absolutely horrible and wrong. He would threaten to embarrass me and not be my friend, and would also say he loved me and I had to suck his penis to prove I loved him back. He would keep asking until I gave in, and because we were in a isolated part of the playground I didn't feel I could just walk away, especially since he was known for being violent (though had never physically hurt me). Its what people who love each other do, he said once. He was a bully, and when I did it he would laugh and tell me that he didn't really like me but maybe he would if I did it again. He'd do this with his friend who would watch. I don't think that other boy really understood why he was doing that to me, I didn't. But the one doing it at least understood that it upset me and didn't care, because he would laugh at me when he made me upset. It often feels so stupid that I am even experiencing any trauma from this. We were both kids, and it feels like it was my fault for not resisting more or not just walking away. But I didn't know what was happening, and I was really vulnerable and lonely at that time. I just wanted a friend. This continued until I was 7. I don't entirely blame him. To me, he's more akin to a bully rather than an abuser. But I do blame his parents for allowing him porn access since the age of 5, I blame his father for teaching his son misogynistic views which he continued to perpetuate onto other girls our age as we grew up. I blame whoever taught him how to do those things, because the way he spoke to me sometimes sounded too adult to be from a kid who stumbled onto some pornsite. I blame my school for knowing what was happening, and not lifting a finger to help EITHER of us. We both needed some sort of intervention, but they did nothing. I now deal with various diagnosed mental disorders and sexual dysfunction as a result of what he did to me. Worst part is, I still see him around town on rare occasions. He doesn't recognise me, and while I'm grateful for that it also angers me that he doesn't even recognise me while I freak out if I see someone who even looks like him.

I Say No More Cause..... I am a mother of a 5 year old daughter. I was 23 when I had my daughter, left my mothers house and moved in with my daughters father. You know there is a saying "you will only know a men true colors once you live with them under the same roof", its absolutely true. My daughters father was a drug addict and he loved women. I used to get beaten up for asking questions for looking at his phone and especially when i use to find out the truth, that was it knowing about the truth should eat him up. He use to beat me while i had my daughter in my arms, he use to chock me till i have a black out, he use to take my head and bang it on the wall and fridge, he use to call me names , disrespect me and my family. He sold/pawned all my daughters jewelry to support his bad habits. I was so stupid cause i left him & went back around about 3 times. Do you know at one point he was saving my neighbors (female) picture on the phone , he use to chat to a lady that was married and bad mouth me to her. I was dark in my skin . I was so thin (I) use to fit in a size 26 jeans I still have scars on my body cause of the dirty, dis-respectable animal not even a women begin. As for his family they never kept me safe at all even when I spoke up.When he use to lift his hands for me I started doing the same to protect myself from digging my own grave, I had to stand up for myself cause nobody else was going to do it for me. The day I left my daughters father for good was the day he broke my nose he punched me in the face I was covered with blood, still lied to my family and said "I fell in the bathroom" but deep down I knew my family knew it was a lie. Today I still look in the mirror with a Crockett nose. I packed my daughters & my clothing called my father and went to my mum. It has been 2 and a half years since I am not with him, thanks to my mother I look an feel beautiful again. My parents & 2 sisters supported my daughter & I till I got a stable job. I am so glad that I walked away as soon as i seen blood on myself that was it. I TOLD MYSELF I HAD ENOUGH.... Date today am 28 married to such an amazing men that treats me like a queen never disrespected me or even tried to lift a finger on me, makes me feel beautiful , loved am truly blessed. My daughter does not have to see her mother getting beaten again. Oh yes am in a size 34 jeans now :-), it feels great. I say am blessed cause the men i married accepted me with my scars and a daughter. ''DONT BE AFRAID TO WALK AWAY"

I was sexually assaulted by two teenagers when I was 17 and extremely intoxicated. One of the rapists was my high school best friend's brother. This story is 35 years old but needs to be told in order for me to start healing. A repressed memory came flooding back 5 years ago, after finding a photo of a trip I took with her family, the place where this assault happened. I've silently tried to process it alone, but I can't keep quiet any longer. I hope sharing my story will help others come forward and start their healing process. It's never too late! I'm finding more and more friends who have similar stories and only by sharing my story had allowed them to share theirs. I feel like it's paying it forward a little.

*TRIGGER WARNING IN ADVANCE* So, it all began when I was like 5 or 6 and ended when I was around 10 or 11. I think. My own grandad was sexually abusing me. I couldn’t tell you all the events in chronological order because I can’t remember every single time or what order they went in. I can just share the types of things that would be done. When I would stay at my grandparents house, my grandad would read a bedtime story every night. However, it wasn’t just a bedtime story… no… it would end up with him holding my hand through a hole in his pocket making me touch his penis. Sometimes I’d be asleep and he’d come upstairs and rub his penis on my body and pull up my top and lick my nipples. I used to love insects as a child so his excuse was that his penis was a glow worm called Name and “Name would want a tickle”… he would draw bizarre pictures of different sexual poses and say that those would help with a spell because I was into magic… he would buy me things all the time like a phone, credit for my phone, an Xbox but this wasn’t on birthdays or Christmas this was just random and my brother wouldn’t get anything other than birthday and Christmas presents… I used to do acting and I loved it, he then made a script about a girl called poppy longstockings and bought a whole outfit for me to dress up in and gave me a script and I had to act out and let’s say the costume was certainly not PG… He would always try and do anal on me and I mean always… in his shed, at his work (which he was like a handyman and he’d work on student flats and stuff) I’d go on jobs with him sometimes. Listen. I was young I didn’t understand what was happening was wrong. Anyway… Let’s get to where it all got found out… When I was around 11 I told my friend that I thought what he was doing was wrong and that’s when it all stopped was when I realised or learned that it was wrong. Didn’t tell anybody else. Years later in secondary school me and my friend were in a lesson together and somehow it came up in conversation and someone overheard and then they went and told someone, then that person told someone, then so on… the whole year knew… I didn’t know everyone knew until I was sat next to my other friend who didn’t know and he texted me saying I know what your grandad did and I just bursted out crying… anyway I got taken out and a teacher spoke to me so I told her and that’s when I had to speak to the police… the weekend went by and I had to pretend everything was fine to my mum, dad and brother because they had no clue about anything… Monday came around and I get a knock on my class, it’s my brother asking to see me, we stand in the hall and he just hugs me and starts crying so then I start crying. Anyway, end up going home and my mum gives me a hug and then my dad comes home and gives me a hug and we’ve never been closer as a family…. Then comes court… What a horrible horrible experience…. But it was absolutely worth it! To see him go down for 15 years for what he did to me (wasn’t enough in my opinion but still better than nothing and I’m very grateful for that)… t This is not the end of my story but my entire mood has changed since the beginning of writing so I’m going to take a little break:) lots of love <3 x

When I was approximately 12 year olds I was 'playing doctor' with a neighbour, who was a year or two younger, she initiated the game despite me not been interested. She initially touched me, and then asked me to touch her, when I refused she persisted despite my discomfort and she threatened to say I'd done something to her if I didn't comply. I also remember she had a younger sibling she shared a room with and she would make sure he was out of the room when this happened, and he would often bang at the door trying to get in. I'm now of the belief he was kept out so he wouldn't see and report what the girl was doing.

I was infatuated with him from a very early age. I knew him from church, church social events, discos where he was a DJ and a musical we were both in. He knew I had a crush on him as did one of his girlfriends (she teased me about it). At the age of thirteen you know it’s unlikely he’ll like you. He was 19/20 at that time. When I was fourteen my family were moving away. There was a leaving party for us at the local church hall. He took me into a storage area, out of sight and we had our first ‘snog’. I couldn’t believe my luck. His friend saw us but didn’t intervene . I was 14 he was 20. We met in secret initially. My friends and my sister knew. One time he told me how he’d love to make love to me. I felt uncomfortable as he put his fingers in my bra, stroking a cleavage that didn’t exist. I told him that if that’s what he wanted he’d need to see a prostitute. I was besotted but naive. I thought it was exciting to meet secretly and that it was a huge romance. My parents became aware of our relationship. They insisted that we were always chaperoned. One time when we alone in a room he put his hand down my pants and ‘fingered’ me. It wasn’t done with love. He asked if I liked it. I said that I didn’t. He put my hand on his erect penis in his pants . I didn’t know what to do. I just left it there. I turned 15 and a month later he turned 21. We had bee ‘seeng’ each other for less than three months. He suddenly called things off and I learnt years afterwards that my parents scared him off. It was only at the age of 43, that I realised I had been abused. He had groomed me and taken pleasure in my childlike body and innocence. I’m angry. I’m very angry. I’d like there to be justice and not feel powerless.

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

I have four children, they are all adults now. I fell pregnant at 21 and my father insisted we got married. The first slap he gave me was on our wedding night, and him saying, what the fuck did I get married for. After two sons were born he beat me up whilst pregnant with our daughter, and then as I lay injured upstairs he came in the bedroom and forced himself on me. My 17 years with this brute have affected me all my life. He slept around and had zero respect for me and also shouted at the children. We were all scared of him, but in the end I got him out. Years later now and I had to put up with this man walking my daughter down the aisle last November. I hate them having anything to do with him, also he is a bum and never supported them. I feel that what happened to me is just being dismissed as not important and it makes me resentful. I want to forget and move on but feel I want him punished for what he did.

When I was 7, I started being sexually abused. This wasn’t by a family member, it was my grans second husband. It all stopped when I was 12, when we moved a few miles away and he didn’t visit as much. When I was 17, I was having therapy for other things, it eventually came out then. They helped me decide how I was going to tell my mum. They also said I should prepare for family members to not believe me. I thought, you don’t know my family. They all stick up for each other. Well so I thought. My mum never wanted to talk about it. I understand now that was due to guilt, she had her own mental illnesses to deal with. My sister, well she turned against me for a few years. Saying I was lying, I tried to ruin my grans marriage with my lies, threatening to beat me up. My sister even tried to prove I was lying buy having him watch her new born baby whilst she went and done his food shop. When this man died, it got worse. My sister and aunt said they can’t grieve over him cause of the lies I said about him. Saying I’m evil and not wanting me near her child incase I do stuff to her. I had cousins asking “what exactly is it he did to you? My gran saying “he’s not a pedophile”. All this almost destroyed me. It was worse than the sexual abuse I had went through as a child. I decided I wanted away from my family. So I enrolled in college at 23, at 27 I was qualified and got straight into a job, I had been saving through college, so managed to move onto my own place pretty quickly. Now 33 years old and looking back I often think, did all that really happen. I’ve since moved further away from my family, Doing this has helped me stay away from their drama and only visit on occasions. They’re a lot better now, but I’d still rather keep my distance. I’m in a good place mentally. I’ve got great friends and built a good life for myself. My advice to anyone going thought it. Prepare yourself for family not to believe you. Only talk about it to people you trust and only when you want to talk about it. Don’t feel you need to explain yourself to anyone. The best thing my therapist said, no matter what you did or didn’t do, it wasn’t your fault. You were only a child.

I look back and am plagued by doubt. It’s less now but still it creeps in - did it happen? Was I too sensitive? Maybe I made too much of it? Have I remembered it wrong? What I know to be true is how I felt and continue to feel when he is mentioned or I see him. FEAR. It’s been 2 years and I still think about if he will like what I am wearing or will have a comment to make. I question my reality - ‘did that happen? Did I say that?’ In lost interactions with him. I met him on line 14 years ago. Things moved quickly, ish. I didn’t see it then but looking back he was ALWAYS there. He gave his friend keys to my flat and I arrived home with it tidied and reorganized. He thought I was messy and that it was a nice thing to do. I felt utterly overwhelmed and very uncomfortable with this but stayed and thanked him as I was left feeling ungrateful. Interestingly I didn’t introduce him to my friends - in fact I kept him quite separate. I think I knew that I didn’t want them to meet him as something was off and they would probably see it and point it out. Or maybe o was afraid that they wouldn’t see it and wouldn’t point it out so it would make me feel even crazier. He didn’t like how I breathed in his direction in bed. He didn’t like how I fiddled with things. (These all felt ok to change for him……. I really had no self love and held myself with very little worth). The first physical element to the abuse (which I can now name as such) was a confusing incident at the time. He was napping and I woke him and he grabbed me by the throat. I was so shocked and I wanted to run a mile but ended up being told that it was my fault as I woke him too quickly. I was brainwashed already (3 months in). I was hard wired for this though as I had be taught not to trust my instincts - how dangerous this was. I stayed for 12 years, 2 children and gradually faded away. I dreamed of leaving, I said I would over and over and I nearly did once but it took so much courage to do it. I was terrified of the financial implications. I was isolated. I was exhausted. And I did it. He would have ‘waking dreams’ during which he would scream at me, push me, throw things, terrify me but would not remember them in the morning or want to talk about them. He would say ‘ well it wasn’t me, I was asleep’. I went to bed in fear most nights. There were never any bruises you could see but so much had been pulverized internally for me. I was on life support. This is part of my story . A start. It continues as he is in my life as our kids are young. The emotional and psychological abuse continues but I am doing the work to reposition myself. I am taking responsibility for my part in my journey and this is both empowering and exhausting. This abuse is very misunderstood- it is dangerous and invisible. I am learning to believe myself and look to myself for validation and answers. With love

In my survival story, "Just Words, Dirty Words", I shared so much and I brushed over an experience with a male gynecologist. It was a much bigger deal that I let on because it had triggered my previous abuse as an adolescent on my first job. I wonted other girls and women to understand what is not okay for a gynecologist to do. It was not until after it happened that I realized the full impact. I realized I had let myself be victimized again without trying to stop it. I felt self-loathing and anxiety. I write this letter to that opportunistic predator. You broke your oath. You betrayed the trust. You are terrible! I have done research on what a breast and pelvic exam is supposed be like and understand you used the framework to sexually assault me. I was late for the appointment to get birth control at the university clinic when I had just moved for college. You let me in even though you had no nurse chaperon, it seemed that you might have sent them home after putting me in the room. You are a man and that is against policy. We shared our first eye contact and I ignored your lust and first glance flirtation. You saw I was vulnerable and needed something from you. You told me as a new patient you have to do a full first visit exam. Now I believe you may have lied. I nodded and put down my guard. When you returned I was undressed wearing a paper smock for a false sense of security. I was self conscious even though I had impeccable hygiene and grooming but worried I was not fresh enough so late in the day because you were a man and you made it sexual. You examined my breasts with no gloves. I said nothing. I knew you were massaging them for you pleasure. You went on for five minutes like that. I think five whole minutes while you kept talking. When my boss used to molest me just seconds was plenty to make me feel sick and used. He would sit on my torso, compressing my ribs to the point I could not take a deep breath and have sex with my breasts and he usually took less time than you. do remember you used the words “wonderful” and “amazing” when commenting on by breast health. We could both smell the musk from down below from stimulating me like that. I was embarrassed. You should have been the one ashamed! You mentioned the textures and gave some instructional anatomy to pretend it might be official. You asked random questions and you shared personal stories like it was a date. All the while you were groping my tits like a pervert. Both hands at the same time! I tried to cover for you by pretending like this was not insane and not a sexual assault. You were twice my age and your mustache was ridiculous. You finally moved on to the pelvic exam. You said the words, “Very nice” when you lifted up the paper drape to help my feet into the stirrups. That is not appropriate when viewing a patient’s vagina for the first time. You explained every step from “I’m going to touch your thighs now” to “take a deep breath as I insert the speculum”. That part was quick but then you explained the manual exam that you did for too long. You inserted two fingers to check for cervical motion tenderness but rubbed my clitoris with your lubricated thumb as you did so. That was wrong! You explained that you were going to move your other hand to check for tenderness of my ovaries to check for infection but kept working your other hand on my clit and inside me. You put what felt like three fingers in me! You were sexually assaulting me again. Breaching my trust. Ignoring you oath. As a last indignity you felt for masses in the space between my vagina and rectum. You left your thumb in my vagina while you put a finger in my anus and moved them both back and in and out explaining you thought you felt something for a second but it resolved on massage, meaning it was nothing to worry about. You raped me! That was rape! I looked it up and what you were doing is a real part of an exam but no gynecologist had done that before then or ever since! Instead of leaving the room while I dressed you stayed and helped by holding out my clothes! Totally inappropriate! You should not have a medical license! Sure I let you, and I cooperated, and even tried to endure it and put on a pleasant face. I was a different person then and you just continued my cycle of being abused by men. But the anus part was where I felt true terror and wanted to get out. You gave me a business card with your name on it and told me to call and ask when you were working to schedule next visit. Then you only wrote me for 1 refill on 30 day birth control! Like I would even come back to be assaulted again. You smug abuser of power and trust! I left with you thinking I enjoyed that and would see you again!!! You make me want to scream and pound on things! It was delayed, but my abuse anxiety was triggered that night, and days after. I will never see a male gynecologist again. Your lust and greed is not better than that of a rapist. You broke my trust in the medical system and I still get anxiety at any doctor visit. Just because a girl’s reaction to abuse is not instant, because of some survival mechanism, does not make it any less painful. Sometimes even more, because we feel guilty for not being strong and assertive. You were in a position of authority and abused it so badly. You should be ashamed, doctor! You should be in prison!

It was my spiritual teacher. I loved him and trusted him more than anyone. Now I don't feel safe with my faith. My friends were in the spiritual community and ghosted me for seeking treatment. I don't feel safe to leave my room. I have constant panic attacks. I don't recognize life anymore.

I am a survivor of abuse from a partner. With this abuse I was learning how the system fails to have safety nets for helping women in need. Domestic Violence grows in closed doors situations. I want the public to learn that I went to college and was emotionally abused by a Spouse who was running a double life. This abuse was able to be successful because isolation was first done followed up by manipulation, control, drugging, sex trafficking, Domestic Violence, abuse, slavery and because the gas lighting was so good I prayed for death. Now I'm left feeling broken with PTSD and huge trust issues. No-more will I put myself in that situation. I trust no-one now. Forever alone. Forever sad.

I was 9 when it started. I mean it really started. There was a boy in my class who openly liked me. It didn’t bother me too much, except when he’s chase me around the field telling me he was in love with me. We were 7. It was ‘how kids were’ said my school when I said I wanted him to stop. But then later on in the years he got obsessed. Taking photos of me around school. Following me home. Getting in calls with me online (we were somewhat friends) and asking me to take my shirt off. Asking me to take my clothes off so he could screenshot. We were 9. It’s just how kids are? Right? Well that’s what I told myself. And still do. Then he got aggressive, telling his friends about how ‘sexy I was’ I didn’t know what sexy meant until he told me: “it means I want to take your clothes off and feel you” I remember his words so clearly. After that his friends got weird around me too. Especially another boy. I always thought we were friends until a girl ran up to me at break saying “—— HAD A DREAM ABOUT YOU” I didn’t know what she meant until the boy whispered in my ear how he dreamt of me giving him a blow job. That’s the day when I found out what blow jobs were. 9 fucking years old. He told me in detail and I sat there and cried. I wanted to run away. I wanted to scream. But I froze. Instead I fucking froze. I hate myself for it. But I know it’s ‘normal’. The main boy started to grow more and more aggressive. Grabbing my arm, hugging me and never letting go. And more and more pictures. More following home. More standing outside my house pretending to read when he watched me get changed. But for some reason i forgot to shut my curtains. Why? Did I like him? Was it all my fault? Did I tempt him? Those are questions I ask myself every day. He did bad things to me. Until I left primary school. Free. I was away from that horrible boy. And then we had a school reunion last year. I’m not going into detail. Mainly because I can’t I just can’t. He didn’t rape me. But he made bleed in the wrong place. He groped my chest. I still have a scar. And the at was the last time I saw him. I hate him. I pity him. I love him. No I don’t. I don’t. What if i did? What if it’s all my fault? Fuck, did I want him to do those things! I was only 12! I was only 9! and I had no one. no one helped me. No one saved me from that nightmare. I still look back on my younger self. My memory is hazy. Traumatic response my therapist says. But what if it never happened. Am I just like those people I see on the internet who lie about SA? I don’t want to be. They make me so angry. I still am not okay. No one sees me. I hate him. I hate all the people who made people suffer like I have. If you experienced COCSA I’m so sorry. I love you. You are more than them. You are braze and special. And I love you. Stay fucking safe.

Hello, I'm a young female I'm here to share my story of surviving domestic abuse and emotional abuse including rape, I also had a rough childhood being abroad when I was young and I was physically bullied by young boys, I still remember being physically kicked in the stomach and having my hair grabbed and pulled into lockers, large garbage bins and brick walls, knowing that no one will help me or support me while this is happening, what hurt more is your mother is seeing this happening, I am extremely quiet and reserved person and this was the start to my horrible life, I came back to UK and I was teased and picked on theough out the whole of my life, and back then I just turned 20 years and got my first boyfriend I've never had a boyfriend before so I didn't know the signs of a good relationship and a bad relationship, after a couple month my boyfriend turned into this sweet caring person into this controlling, Manipulative and emotionally abusing me, he refused me seeing any of my friends, at any cost I am a huge gamer fan and if I played games with my friends he would call me Constantly to make sure that all my focus is on him, I was slowly losing contact with my friends, to the point he was the only person I was allowed to talk, and then he forced me and pressured me to getting a implant to stop pregnancy, I was didn't want the implant or to have sex with him I was completely petrified of him but he started shouting and getting physically close if I didn't do it so out of fear I went to get the implant in, I still didn't want to have sex with him, fastward to my 21st birthday it was the big day I was 21, and my boyfriend forced me to come to his house so we can spend sometime with him and he asked me if the implant was in effect amd I told him yes which now after years of looking back I regret saying yes to him, he pushed me down the bed and forcing kissing me and touching me I was pushing him to get off but he grabbed my throat so I couldn't scream or say anything, he used his weight against mine and forcing my clothes to come off he then pinned me down so I can't fight back and particularly raped me on my birthday and the amount of pain I was in after him forcing himself on me and that I pretty much in so much pain and sore from the experience I was Traumatised of someone who I trusted who I would die for would do such a thing, after the experience I was bleeding non stopped of the sexual assault, I couldn't say anything of this with my family because of the Generation difference, the abuse Continued after that, I remember him holding my hand to the point it went from him squeezing my hand so hard and refunsed me talking to anyone not even to my best friend at the time, and he would hit when no-one was around, fastward to Valentine's day me and boyfriend at the time we went out to celebrate I was already scared of him but I must comply to his demands we were going into the restaurant and forbid me to eat and he was the only one to eat food and get me to paid for the food he ate as well, I refused to pay for the food and without any warning he so hard in the face which knocked me to floor with my eyes watering I paid for the food, to my horror that no-one would step in and protect me just sat there staring at me for this experience, we both left and I went home and I had to remind that nothing happened and even hiding my face from the trauma of being hit, Continued to remain normal with my family, the next day we both spend all evening 5 hours on a voice call but in Silence no one would say a thing in the call until one evening when I was wanted to be alone and have a quiet evening so I ended the call but to my surprise my boyfriend called me right back swearing and yelling and even shouting at me for ending the call without his permission, as this maybe me even more petrified of him and was scared of him no matter what mood he was in, and one day me and him were hanging out with his place and I bought him some food and he had a go at me for getting him the wrong food and turned his back to me until I came back with the food he wanted, so I did returned while a special request with the shop owner that is what he wanted and he came back with the item I wanted for him and I paid and walked out and I got back and showed and he grabbed the item from me not even thanking me for going through that trouble and and I was on edge with him the the rest of the time I was there, he turned around and started kissing me and I told him no I was feeling a bit under the weather and feeling sore he back off turning his back to me then all a sudden he turns and grabs me and pinned me down and started sexually assaulting me, as I was crying from the pain, after a whole year of this abuse as I ended it with him, I was so petrified of him because he was so angry when I ended and then he started accusing me that I was cheating on me which I don't believe in cheating I've never believed in it, and he still continues to accusing me of cheating, which I denied this was happening and he would pick fights with me I was so scared of him already but I continued to stay strong because of my family then he would started using pictures of me I was wearing dresses which owned and started saying I was Exploiting or showing guys that I wanted s*x from.them which was not true and the worse of it my mum was already manipulated by him and she told me off because of he was saying when she didn't even let me explain and I've never felt alone, I couldn't tell anyone of my experience of abuse and sexual assault to my family because they would judge me saying this my fault and I let this happen after ward two weeks he started trying to Stalk me on dating websites to try and to control who I was seeing under his control and the next day my friend decided for me to travel on another bus then him and we both sat down and he then suddenly got on the same bus, I was so scared at this point where I was shaking and my friend was distracting me and when we got off my stop my friend came with me to make sure I got home safe, and I saw the bus leave my friend and me were waiting for my mum when to my horror my ex came charging at me with his hands on the air and the rage in his eyes and tongue out and started having a go at me saying I have explaining to do when I have no explanation to him he didn't deserve my explanation as my Friend started talking to him and telling to go to the police about his state then he walked off and my mum arrived and took my friend home and we got home and that I've never been so scared after a couple of weeks the last thing my ex boyfriend said to me after walking past me on my normal bus and he quickly said to me "I must go die" and how this guy has ruined my life, after 9 years going on 10 years I've been pretty much alone not being able to talk to anyone amd this guy is able to kill me with the way he use to hit me and assault me thinking he was in the right, so after 9 years going on 10 years I have reminded in hiding and I live in a different county now but the effects of this still remain after the whole year of his abuse as affected me for the rest of my life, i even ended up in another relationship with a guy but he was the exactly the same as my first ex and now my trust is completely destroyed in my life and now I will still be friends with men but no longer get close or even start a relationship with any men, I am now left with PDSD, my anxiety is through the room, I suffer with flash backs of his abuse, but I still haven't told my family of the abuse I went through amd I still hear the word my last ex told me to go die, but I can tell you now I've done this courage to write out for people to hear my story and if your going through is your not alone and if i managed to get out of two abusive relationship you can as well amd it's been a real eye opener for me and since ive been alone I've never felt so safe because no one can hurt me unfortunately I do suffer with crying outburst or extreme mental breakdowns because of this abuse amd trauma. And this is my story

I don’t know if my other story was shared or not (I think the page refreshed) I wanted to talk about some things that happened to me when I was younger, I don’t know if I would call them traumatic but they have stuck with me and at the time I didn’t think it was wrong but now that I’m older I see them in a different way. This happened when I was younger, I was around 6/7? I don’t remember well. One of my mom’s friend would come over along with her daughter who was older than me (5/6 years older). And this girl would lock me in my mom’s room, make me lay down and she would get on top and make out with me. I thought that was something normal so that’s why I didn’t speak to someone about it, but now that I’m older i understand better and know that it was wrong. Because of this I would see these type of acts as something normal, which would lead to me and close school friends to play “house” and act like grown ups and we would kiss. I feel like that made me become sexual way too young and I feel like it has affected me a bit in my life growing up.