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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.

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 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.

mum was at work and my brothers were in the garden playing football with each other as dad had sent them outside so i could watch my show. Dad and I were sitting on the sofa, I was lying on his chest and he had one arm around me (right hand, disabled one) and the other was stroking my hair (left hand). He began to put his hand near my private parts, I squirmed slightly as it was uncomfortable, he chuckled to himself and whispered to me “it was normal for a father to show his daughter some love.” So I tried to relax. eventually excused myself to the bathroom but he followed saying “he didn't want me making a mess”. When I walked in I took my trousers down and he pulled me closer to him, his grip was rough and it hurt (I yelped a bit), he began to touch my private parts and I tried getting away again as his touch was uncomfortable and his grip was still hurting. At one point he pulled his trousers down and guided my had to his private parts making me touch them, he told me he was showing me love and i believed him, he said if I touched him he would give me a treat and love me more as well so I began to do it willingly. He asked if he could take a photo of me “for some friends” and then did it anyway, not giving me a chance to reply and fight back. about a minute later, my brother called dad because he was losing and dad was annoyed. He washed his hands and went out to josh. Later he returned with some chocolate and a ‘drink’. From what I remember of the smell it was beer of some kind but as a kid I didn't notice, he did this as a reward every time. It wasn't long before dad got kicked out, I was alone with him in the kitchen. He was annoyed at me as I had tried to tell someone about him, and he was punishing me. i was trying to go to mum and he had grabbed me tightly, i was terrified, he was towering over me and i had nowhere to hide. He walk over to the side and grabbed a knife holding it to me, i began to apologize to him over and over, he made me bow to him and call him ‘master’ . He seemed to find joy in threatening me. I wanted to get away from him. That night he still attacked me and beat me but I was too afraid to scream. He ended up using the knife to cut himself on his legs while telling me it was my fault he was hurting himself because I didn't love him anymore. I offered to touch him because I wanted him to be happy again. He accepted and I did it, after that I kept offering when we were alone to keep him happy. I didn’t tell anyone about him touching me because I thought I would get in trouble for offering to touch him. When mum kicked him out I was scared he was going to kill himself because I couldn't make him happy anymore. I still feel guilty for that night as if i would have not tried to tell someone it wouldn't have happened.

I've suffered sexual, physical and emotional abuse in not one but two relationships in my life.......It began back in Date I'd come out of a long-term relationship of 5yrs and probably on the rebound (although I didn't think that at the time as a tender 23yr old) met a guy in our local pub. He seemed nice enough and we entered into a relationship. Soon though the signs appeared, gaslighting, name calling, eroding my self-esteem. I stupidly ignored the signs and continued in the relationship, even marrying him! The night before we were due to be married I was in floods of tears but his sister said it was probably just pre-wedding nerves (no-one knew how I was suffering at his hands) I should've called it off, kicked him out of MY house and got on my life, but you become so embroiled in everything, and it becomes 'normal' to feel scared, anxious and dependant on this person, totally alienated from friends, family and anyone who wasn't 'him'. I was controlled monetarily, emotionally in every aspect of my life, how I dressed, where I went, how much money I spent and became increasingly isolated and DEPENDANT on him! I was working a full time job earning more than him, but couldn't spend a penny without checking with him first, and I stupidly went along with it. I received phone calls and text pretty much all the time checking where I was, with whom, what I was doing, I was CONTROLLED. The abuse happened regularly emotional, physical, mental and financial but I was so scared and lost......I FEARED him and became like a cornered animal with nowhere to turn. When our daughter turned 2 I finally realised that I had to get out, I didn't want her to think this was what a relationship looked like. That was the hardest decision I've ever made in my life! After 9yrs I was free, but was I? No, the emotional scars ran very deep and I was a shadow of the person I once was, I was petrified of everything, but I had a child who relied on me. I bought my own house, divorced him and tried to adapt to my new life............ Fast forward to the end of another failed marriage nearly a decade ago, I'm in my late 40's by now, own my own home, work, own a car etc, but sadly lacking in friends I'd lost them all years before and the few remaining were all married so I joined a dating website and matched with a man who I'd known years ago as a teenager. We started a relationship. This man stripped away everything I'd rebuilt, he tormented me, followed me, abused me, he'd turn up in supermarkets when I was shopping. I'd entered into another nightmare situation, but occasionally I fought back, literally!! I'd stupidly given him a key to my house, and if I tried to end things he'd let himself in, hound me with phone calls, flowers, the usual tactics abusers turn to. I couldn't even look out of the car windows on journeys as I'd be accused of 'looking' at men! One night though, he thought he'd killed me, he pushed me on a night out and my head hit the pavement hard, I was so dazed I laid there, not sure whether I lost consciousness We spent 10 months together, and then he collapsed and died on my bedroom floor at 50yrs old, and God forgive me, but I was free! He wouldn't ever harass me again, he was gone............And this time I was free, totally free. And that is my story, without the hideous details of the level of abuse I suffered as no-one needs to read all the details, it triggers me even now thinking back, but I survived, I'm still recovering and always will be, but I'm now 55, married to the love of my life, my soulmate, my safe place.

For like three years I’ve been picked on at school but in a weird way. This group of guys would shove each other into me saying things like ‘I know u want it’ two of them would take this as an excuse to touch me, then when I got moved next to one of them in maths it just got worse and he started threatening to r@pe me. There was also a situation in pe when one of them threw a ball at my bum then laughed about it with his friends. When I told the school they got them to stop talking to me but it doesn’t seem as tho they care. Now I cant focus properly in any of my lessons

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.

I went out with friends but left early as I was drunk and tired and I asked someone for directions to find my Uber when another guy asked if I was going to uni and said I was pretty which was fine but he then asked if he could have a kiss. I didn't know what to do so I stepped towards him and then he put his arm round me and I felt like I had to kiss him but I didn't want to. I tried to face away from him hoping he would just kiss my cheek but he didn't so I turned my head and he kissed me and I feel gross and want to throw up every time I think of it.

This guy was my best friend. He knew everything I was dealing with. He was the reason I got out of the abusive place I was in. Less than 2 weeks after I got out of that abusive place, he raped me when I needed a safe place to stay. I had trusted him so much with absolutely everything and he not only violated me, but my trust aswell. He then text me the day after telling me not to tell anyone what happened. But I didn't remember anything about what happened until 5 days after it happened. He denied and denied and denied when I confronted him until eventually he admitted to what he did. Its been numberyears and I still can't walk around my hometown alone anymore out of fear, I can't hear his name or see anything remotely near to what he was wearing or I was wearing. But I'm in therapy now and it's making me realise so much. I'm working on trusting the world again. I didn't deserve it. No one does. As difficult and painful it is to deal with something like this, we can all survive. We can get through it. Someone wants to listen to your story. Someone wants to help. Don't deal with it alone xx

My ex-husband verbally, sexually, mentally and physically abused me during our marriage. He tried to force me to have sex with others for money and luckily I was able to prevent that from happening; but not with out consequence. A miscarriage during our marriage forced me to see a therapist and working with her for almost two years gave me the strength to leave. It’s been over 25 years since I left and I still live with PTSD stemming from the abuse. I have since remarried and have two teenage children. They were little I have always talked to them about what a healthy relationship is, how to recognize potentially abusive behavior and to say “NO MORE”. My kids talk to their friends about what they have learned at home. I speak about IPV/DV to youth groups and to their advisors about what to look for, how to deal with and provide resources for help. I will continue to say “NO MORE” until the day comes when we don’t have to say it.

Name HE LIVED IN THE HOUSE BY THE ROAD AND I CANT PASS IT WITHOUT CRYING OR EVEN GO TO MY HOMETOWN HE LIED ABOUT ME HE HAD FRIENDS WHO I LIKED WHO NEVER KNEW AND STILL LIKE HIM NO ONE KNOWS THAT I AM REALLY TELLING THE TRUTH HE CALLED ME UGLY HE HID ME IN A CLOSET HE LIED TO ME HE TOLD ME I WAS FAT HE SCARED ME SO MUCH HE THREATENED ME IN THE SCHOOL HALLWAY WITH MURDER IN THE PARK AT SCHOOL IN THE HOUSE IN THE BASEMENT HE GOES ABOUT HIS LIFE LIKE HE NEVER HURT ME I HATE HIM I WANT HIM DEAD I WOULD OUT HIM BUT IM SO AFRAID OF BEING OUTED FOR STUFF I DID AS A KID I WOULD LIE AND SAY THINGS THAT WERENT TRUE BECAUSE I WAS AFRAID OF BEING LEFT ALONE PEOPLE WILL REMEMBER THAT AND NOT BELIEVE ME BUT ITS TRUE

When I was 14-18, I was in an abusive relationship, but at the time, I could not see it. This boy was controlling, manipulative and he forced himself on me when I said no. He was physically violent and tried to prevent me from going to university. Whenever I tried to escape the relationship, he would threaten to kill himself, and I was also scared of him. I never had any time to myself as he would be there. I was not allowed to have any male friends on social media, and I could not hang out or talk to any boys. I was not allowed to wear certain clothing, and he told me I was ugly and should wear makeup. I use to self-harm because I cut my emotions out, and I wanted to feel something. One day I told him that I did not want to be with him anymore and that I was going to university. He again told me he would kill himself, but at that point, I told him I did not care, and I managed to get out. He has since been arrested and kicked out of his home. This relationship has scared me since I'm now 28.

I don't have very clear memories from my childhood and high school years so this might be a bit scattered or lacking detail. I have often had a complicated relationship with intimacy and men. I don't know when or why it started, but I have never truly valued myself the way I should, and thus let others value me even less. I have always been shy and a bit awkward, so when boys started to take an interest in me during high school, I guess I just ran with it. I had a friend in high school who would often make sexual advances to me. I had liked him for a little while and so wouldn't object outright to anything. We developed this sort of "relationship" where we would meet in the back of the auditorium to make out and he would often pressure and please with me to give him oral. I remember being very hesitant, and very afraid of things like that. Looking back I think there was always an off feeling that made me anxious. I would usually push through it, it's hard to say no when someone is basically begging you over and over. Especially when you are trying to keep as many friends as you can. This went on. I think maybe my reputation in school was that of being sexually "easy" The guys I liked would pressure me for sexual acts and in return would bribe me with compliments and hopes of maybe becoming something more. I feel ashamed at how I was so easily led. I don't think I wanted attention, I didn't enjoy it, I think it was more I wanted romance and thought this was what I had to do to make someone like me. Flash forward to right before the pandemic. I met a guy through my good friend. He proceeded to ask me out to lunch. I had been on small high school dates but nothing so "formal" if you can call it that. So I went. We quickly became a couple and despite my uncomfortableness on how quickly things were moving, our relationship became more serious. When the start of the pandemic happened we sort of used it as an excuse to quarantine together. I remember feeling happy he was around but off about how much my space was being invaded by him. He took up all my time. He stopped hanging out with our friends and encouraged me to as well. He would make comments about the weirdest stuff, saying the way I did things, (basic stuff like the way I showered) was dumb. He would talk shit about my mom and play into the cracks in that relationship. He turned me on everyone in my life I was close to over the course of a few months. I was isolated, living in his family's home with him, his parents, and his siblings, all during a pandemic. This is when my mental health took a downfall. I was so homesick, I would cry every day about missing my family and my cat. This is when my libido started slowing down and he did not like that. I was sad and tired and the world felt like it was ending, cause it kind of was. But he still wanted some kind of sex almost every day. In the beginning, we would compromise with maybe not having full-on sex but just doing small things. Eventually, I started to say no, I didn't enjoy doing something EVERY DAY. He would get all pouty and go quiet and passive-aggressive at me. I would say "No, I'm really just tired tonight and want to sleep" and he'd accept only to turn around and beg me over and over before I'd eventually give in and stroke him off or give him oral. I felt like maybe something was wrong with me that I didn't want to be sexual with my boyfriend. Like I wasn't good enough. This relationship lasted a little over a year. At that time we moved into my father's house as it gave us more space and privacy. During that period, my "no's" were less and less heard. I would give in to sex after hearing his pleas and disappointment in me. I'd lie there and let him have sex with me almost every night. He started to experiment with anal. In the beginning, I agreed cause I had never tried it, and I was willing to test the waters. When I knew very quickly that it was not something I enjoyed, it became another thing he would coarse me to do. He would go down there and try over and over after I pleaded with him not to. He would buy me sex toys and anal plugs repeatedly to see if he could use them on me, and he often did. I was mentally so unwell at this point that I eventually became impatient for a couple of weeks. Even there he would pester me with calls and wanting to know what I was doing all the time and even telling me that I didn't need to be there and that I should just come home. After I finally broke things off in a long drawn out and equally unpleasant process, I started to read about SA and rape. It's still hard for me to admit to this day that I was truly raped. It feels invalid and like someone else label. There were many more instances of abuse, verbal and sexual, and I often loose some memories of that time only to have them come back at random times. I often feel like my body isn't one I recognize, and I often feel very out of control of my own life even now. I'm trying to practice writing my experience down, and sharing what I went through, it helps me to feel like I'm not hiding anymore. I often want to hide though. I want to go back to feeling shy, and unseen. I have very good people in my life now, and a partner who is helping me learn that there are people out there who will respect your words and wishes. I don't really know where to go from here, and I don't really know how to heal. But I guess we are all just trying to figure that out.

We were friends. That is what I told him when he tried to kiss me when I was drunk. He smiled and said he understood. We were friends. That is what I told him when I agreed to sleep off the alcohol at his as he insisted it wasn't safe for me to walk home. I felt a sense of relief and comfort when he smiled and said he understood. We were friends. That was what was running through my mind in those seconds that felt like hours when I slowly awoke to his hands down my pants and his soft moaning. We were friends. That was what I screamed as I ran out of his flat. We were friends. That is what I repeated to our social circle that relentlessly placed blame on me for being to 'flirty' or 'leading him on.' We were friends. The realisation that took time to reconcile and fully conceptualise. My perception of the world now shaded with nefarious hues. We were friends. That is what I told myself when I began to enjoy life again. A fleeting moment overshadowed by a watchful eye and a sense of alert that never really leaves me. We were friends. That is what I told myself when I took on the shame that wasn't mine to bear and made me doubt what I knew happened to me. We were friends. That is what I told people when I began to share my experience. Every word feeling like a toss of a stone I had carried around for far too long. We were friends. That is where I find my empowerment. The deepest violation of trust and respect, and yet, I survived.

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.

When I was 15 I met this boy from one of my local schools. We formed a good friendship and he urged me to open up to him as he was “someone I should trust” I was struggling with my family situation and he knew I had weak family bonds. This boy lovebombed me told me I was pretty and things like that. He met me one day and took me into a woodland. He grabbed my face and started kissing me. He also ate my tits and then started fingering me. It hurt me a lot he just went those places without asking. It killed me as I was left with no one to talk to, he blocked me on everything showing he used me. It’s a memory that I can’t forget as it has emotionally damaged me. I feel like I can never trust a man again that was someone who I thought was my friend and he used me.

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

A friend and I dated within the same friend group, and I used to hang out with the guys a lot--I considered them as my brothers. One night when we were altogether, I felt too drunk to take myself home and felt safe with my friends ex to get a cab and drop me off. He came in uninvited and kissed me, then all I remember are flashes of us being naked, him being inside of me, going down on me, etc., but I felt like I couldn't move. I woke up to shower, my bed was broken, and he was gone. I called him the next day to confront him about it, and that I don't even remember what happened. He said he thought "i enjoyed it" (I was unconscious half of the time), and only stopped because the bed broke. Although he apologized he had the audacity to tell me not to share this with anyone, and to this day only very few close friends know about this incident. It truly broke my trust even with platonic guy friendships.

When I (f 24) was around 7 years old, my older step cousin (m) who was around 9/10 would often initiate kissing with me as a 'game' at the time I found nothing wrong with it. id often ask when we were going to play the game again, merely to feel included. it used to go further, sometimes with him undressing me, touching my chest, making remarks such as 'I can't wait for these to get bigger" as well as touching my lower areas. I always used to refuse to do more when he would ask, and I can't remember what age it stopped, probably around 9/10. when I turned 11 I became violent toward him, usually when he was around my younger female cousins, causing me to lash out. I ignored this up until my mid teens, only then thinking of what happened, and confronting him, where he stated "that never happened". after that I moved on, and ignored it, up until last year. I went to stay at my aunts house, I had a good enough relationship with him where we would go out for occasional drinks together with our other cousins. this one night I went to stay at my aunts where he lives, and he tried to kiss me and grope me. when I asked what he was doing, he responded "don't you remember we used to do this as kids?" at that point I left. I had a very bad breakdown at this point, and couldn't stop crying. this has now bothered me ever since. it is hard as I have to see him on familial occasions.

I was hit as a child. I know what a reader of this post expects me to do next is add examples of what could be called ‘extreme’ violence or ‘abuse’. Most people do not equate a ‘pop’ or ‘whapp’ or ‘cuff’ or ‘slap’ or ‘spank’ with domestic violence. We should. For many of us, that first slap from a parent who believes they are committing an act of love...that they are teaching me...that the slap was a ‘consequence’ - was all we needed to find, amongst a definition of loving acts, an understanding of how a person learns, understanding of what is meant by the word ‘consequence’ is physical violence. A good many of us here were struck as children. A good many of those we identify as our assailants were hit as children. I was hit by my adult partner. Blood pouring out of my nose and onto the front of my shirt that third time motivated me to put my hand in the blood and rub it on the front of his shirt and , then, leave. THIRD TIME. We MUST stop accepting adult on child violence.