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

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.

On the Date i got sexually assaulted by my cousin (this was in somalia) I was in my room then needed the bathroom when i was going to the bathroom my cousin stopped me to talk to him then he forces a kiss on my lips then i pushed him away and my auntie came and said ”sabrin doesn’t know somali leave her alone” then he said okay and walked away. Then when my cousin went home my other cousin came in and forced himself on me.

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.

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

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.

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 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 had settled into a new workplace and made friends. We had a social night out at a local beer festival and I was very drunk, we returned to one of my colleague's houses and carried on! I got to the point of no return, climbed up the stairs to throw up in the bathroom and saw an inviting bedroom door open, vaguely remember crawling into the bed and passing out. I don't remember much that happened after as I was at the point of unconscious drunk due to mixing alcohol with anti-depressants (stupid in hindsight) however I certainly didn't invite anyone to come in to my room. I kept rousing slightly due to feeling someone on top of me (I was asleep on my front) and I wasn't able to lift myself up to push them away. My face was pushed into the pillow, I was vaguely aware of my jeans taken down and the sensation of penetration but was unable to do anything to stop the person. The next day I knew someone had had intercourse with me without my consent, I became increasingly disturbed and had a breakdown at work a few days later resulting in me telling the manager. He insisted on contacting the police, the suspected attacker was arrested. Two other colleagues had found him in the room with me although hadn't witnessed the attack taking place. I gave a video statement of all that I could remember but unfortunately the CPS dropped the case because the Judge stated that the combination of alcohol and anti-depressants would have rendered me in such a state of lowered consciousness that I would be unable to be certain that penetration had occurred. I blame myself for showering and washing my clothes, I felt so dirty and ashamed at the time as I was happily married. Unfortunately the attacker continues to work, helping others in the organization. I just hope he learnt his lesson.

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

My stepdad has abused me and groomed me since I was 12 years old. I have never told anyone about this because I was very afraid and scared as he has threatened me so much. He has tried to get me pregnant on multiple occasions due to this i can’t be in a relationship and struggle with self harming. Such as going in the shower and deep cleansing my self with dettol to feel clean.

I was just 10 years old when a family member decided it was okay to play "doctors and nurses with me" it was then when he started to sexually abuse me. I was so oblivious to what was going on, I didn't realise how wrong it was until I grew older, I thought it was normal as he was doing it to his sister too. I was told not to say anything it was a secret between us 3. I blocked it out of my memory until I left school, well I believed a blocked it out, but looking back now I think that is why my behaviour was so defiant. I was just always told I had ADHD/Autism was why I was naughty, but looking back now I think its because I still had to see his face. I eventually disclosed what happened to me once I had left school to a friend, someone I trusted. I needed to tell someone and that's when I really realised how wrong it was and it really hit me. It's surprising how something you push to the back of your mind and block out can really affect you psychologically still. I have 0 confidence and still don't know, I feel worthless, like a failure and I never feel good about myself, I really struggle too. When I disclosed my abuse to someone, it all went so fast, they helped me tell my parents and then my mum helped me reach out to the police. The local police in my area let me down, I realise I had no evidence, because it happened when I was 10 many times, but I still recall what happened, I was brought to a safe house where I had my interview, I felt violated all over again. the questions they asked me, it brought everything back. It didn't even make it to court the police came to the conclusion that it was "JUST A GAME BETWEEN TWO KIDS" they believe there was no maliciousness behind it - A Game - These words have stay with me since then and I can never shake them off, it was not just a game he knew what he was doing, he understood and had full capacity of what he was doing to me. He didn't even make it onto the register, even though he was doing it to his sister as well. The worst part is going though it at such a young age, then having the courage to speak out and then not being believed and told it was a game really affects me to this day, even though I don't like to show it does, I'm very much a girl who makes jokes and smiles all the time to get past the trauma, even having dark humour to cover up the hurt I feel inside, I have always let this abuse, being SA'd affect me. I can't have Sex with men, I feel broken and damaged, I want to be able to have fun but every time I go to have fun I close up and I physically struggle to have sex with men, and when I do have sex with them I do it to make them happy because I feel so bad about letting t hem down and failing as a partner. Maybe I haven't moved past my trauma as much I think I have. I think I still have a lot of healing to go. I recently encountered something at work, which again I was let down people that I thought would help me, I feel so hurt and so Alone. A couple months ago I was working in my local hospital It was my favourite job, I was helping people through chemo and there cancer treatment, I was, as many of my patients called me 'Their little ray of sunshine on a gloomy day' ☀️. I was working on a night shift and was approached by an agency worker who start talking to me, and me being me was nice to him and talking away, like I do with everyone I am a very friendly person and he took my being nice as a invitation to try it on with me, which I said no thank you. and he continued to touch me, and at one point got his man hood out which again I said 'No' he grabbed my hand to touch it, which I continued to say no, he told me keep to down, stay silent and feel what I was doing to him, I tried pulling my hand away. I went numb and started to just shut down. Luckily saved by the bell, someone was needing assistant and we were the only two working so he went and answered the bell and told me he will come back later, at the time I was heading on my break too sleep in the staff room, I was terrified to sleep, even though I locked the door so he couldn't get in I was so upset about what just happened, he said he would follow me home. I told the nurse in charge what had happened and he was moved to another ward in the hospital. They told me in order to do anything I need to write a statement and they could involve the police but I would have to go to court, do a statement, re live what happened, face him, which at the time I was just to traumatised to do because I wasn't believed last time anything happened and I couldn't face him, he was banned from the hospital and was not allowed to work in healthcare establishment after that, he then disappeared no one knew where he went or where he was. I took a few days off work for 'Mental health' as I got 'triggered' (I word I don't like to use) and I got penalised because of it. I have recently lost my job and I tried to fight my corner and had a tribunal due to me being off for sickness, the head of nursing turned around to me in the tribunal and told me 'Being off sick for the 'alleged sexual assault was not a good enough reason'. Again making me feel absolute shit as if she didn't believe me and my reason for being off which I only took a few days off to just try and sort my head out and find my worth made me feel like my reason was not validated and even if I was to take anything further regarding the SA in the hospital, they would not of supported to me anyways. Every day I am constantly having a battle in my head about being good enough. I get scared and also feel like I shouldn't share my story because what happened to me isn't half as bad as what some people have gone through. Did I lead them on? If only I wasn't too scared to speak up? Did I flirt with him or make him want me? questions I ask myself daily... I know I was only 10 but when people who are meant to be people you can trust and have authority tell you its a game, it does make me question still now to this day was it a game, a game that hurt me, and made me feel very uncomfortable and a game I didn't like, but still just a game between two. Law and Order and Olivia Benson (Mariska Hargitay) has saved my life, oddly it is my comfort show and helps me through some dark times and helped me understand and also know that it is wrong what happened to me. I also learnt its okay to share your story and it is always good to speak out about it, don't feel you're a burden or you're worthless, you are never alone there Is always someone out there that will be there for you. I am on a journey like everyone else that has suffered and been through some dark times and I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel and I am not alone, I think sharing my story will really help me feel less alone, I hope more people are able to speak up even if it is just through this. You are not Alone <3 sorry for such a long post

When I was 12, my ex situationship on his 13th birthday got his friend to rape me while he got off on it bc he didn’t want to do it with a virgin. he would then, months later continue to slam my head into walls, punch and hit me, and strangle me. said really horrible things. n yeah, i’m now 19 and at uni trying to be successful with good people in my life so healing is possible. it’s difficult and not linear but there’s so much more out there

I was sexully encouraged by a babysitter when I was 9,too inappropriately bathe her and my sisters. None of us felt it was abuse, but just bath time fun. My sisters both bathed me to a point of inappropriate excitement. Confused but not feeling anything wrong,we just carried on,I was going through puberty and I was orgasming every bath time. I still see the woman to this day we talk like nothing happened and my sisters don't mention it.

It’s been almost 10 years and the scars still feel so fresh and I honestly don’t know how to stop feeling so much pain and anger. How can someone who claims to love you, hurt you because your boundaries did not benefit them. “I am trying to help you“ lol. Help me? By violating my boundaries because you didn’t want to wait for me to be ready? Because you knew this was something I’d never done and I wanted to take my time to make sure I was comfortable but that would mean that you would have had to respect what I wanted and that didn’t sit right with you, so you decided to force something that I didn’t even know if I was ready for. Thanks to you I have an emotional scars and trauma that feel like I will never be free. Thanks to you, I feel so much anger, thanks to you I have to spend the rest of my life trying to heal because you couldn’t wait for me to be ready.

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.

We met back up at 19 , I fell pregnant he was happy ,I was scared for so many reasons , he had no job , mine was not stable ,I had a termination, he begged me not to , I went ahead anyway, he picked me up from the hospital , swore he would my life miserable and he would never forget what I had done , drive me back to his hometown where i was staying until after termination, in that poky little flat was where the abuse mental and physical started , I did not know how to handle this , I was so scared of him , I tried to run once but his uncle was at bottom of stairs . It’s nearly 30 years later I’m still here 4 children and I’ve put up with so much due to me having the first termination, I could never understand why this is my life how I ended up like this feeling like I was in an arranged marriage, I have tried to leave so many times and I get broke down with his emotions as he suffered ptsd after I had the termination he said . That is why he acted so abusive towards me for years, everything has always been my fault and still is , now I still want to leave but haven’t the courage any more to be emotionally drained on why I should stay in this controlled environment that he created , founding out this info has been a massive blow to my self esteem that I have somehow allowed someone to control my adult life , there is no violence anymore I think only because he can’t get away with it . Manipulation I think I’m finding out is what my real is .one big fat manipulation

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.

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.

The first sexual assault I went through was when I was 12 years old and my first ever boyfriend I had at the time Raped me he was 14 years old at the time I told him I didn’t want to have sex with him he ended up pushing me on his bed and he ended up raping me I couldn’t even get him off cause he was very heavy & hurting me. I got sexually assaulted when I was 16 years old old and the guy who did it was 22 years old and it was a painful experience when he grabbed my boobs. The third and fourth times I was sexually assaulted from my then boyfriend he was also physically abusive towards me as well he used to always punch me in my stomach and he would hit me on my neck & shoulder I was eventually able to get out of the relationship I am a survivor of rape I am a survivor of sexual assaults I am a survivor of domestic violence as well