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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.

I must have been around 4/6 when my sister started to ask me for ‘massages’ all over her body. She is 10 years older than I am. It felt wrong at first but I remember her telling me it’s okay because it’s just skin. I don’t recall her ever touching me. She asked me for oral sex also and this was our game. But I feel so wrong looking back now because I even recall asking her to play this game just one more time. So is this my fault? It’s never been something I’ve let affect me however the last few years I’ve thought about this more. I am 21(F) now and realise that I was curious about sex from a very young age. Falling in love with a girl older than me at age 10 and always being attracted to those older than me, even if only a year older. I always wonder if I would be straight if I hadn’t had these young experiences.

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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.

This girl who did this to me, everyone thought we were sisters we were so close but here’s my story… Throughout being 9-13 I was molested by my cousin who is a year younger than me I know it sounds weird but we knew from a young age that she had things wrong with her. Her mum is a drug addict who’s been in and out her life for as long as I can remember I grew up with her and we were always so close. I never saw anything wrong with what she was doing because she made it into games so I didn’t see that there was anything wrong with it. I also have mental issues but when I started to realise what she was doing was more than “games” I didn’t stay at my grandads for a while because we used to spend every weekend there together. But then the last 6 months of lockdown she had to come live with me and I had never told anyone what she had been doing to me but nothing happens threw out the 6 months because we didn’t have to share a bed thankfully I had a cabin bed which is like a bunk bed and she was in a mattress on the floor and one night I heard making weird noises and I looked over to see her masterbating but never said a word. Then afterwords she went to live with her sister which she still does now and my grandad told us he bought two beds so we didn’t have to share whenever we came over anymore and he got me a cabin bed so I was fine so I stayed there a couple times and nothing happened so I started trusting her again and then one night she made us make a den like we used to when she was. Younger I didn’t want to but she said “well I’m already having a bad day your just making it worse” so I just did make it then I woke up and she was raping me but I couldn’t move all I could do was cry but she didn’t notice then we she stopped all I could hear was her finishing herself off and then she kissed me on the top of my back which to this day makes me feel so dirty but then I could move I grabbed my shorts put them on grabbed my phone ran out side and called my dad and he came and got me and he asked her what she was doing and she just sat there saying she didn’t do anything to this day j haven’t spoke to her and she’s tried to get in touch with me multiple times. Also she told her sister that she doesn’t get why she doesnt talk to me anymore I hate her I hate her I could never tel my family the details and how long she actually did it for all they know about is that one night.

*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

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.

Survival. Fawn. He kisses me, I kiss him back. He touches me, I touch him too. He takes me, I let him take. Fawn. There’s safety in the fawn, A predictable safety, A safety perceived as consent, A safety that is survival. Frozen. My body responding, My mind screaming, My eyes pleading, When my lips cannot. Frozen. There’s a strength in the freeze, An unseen strength, A strength perceived as weakness, A strength that is survival.

I have lived through many battles, some visible and some invisible. Chronic pain has been a constant companion, and alongside it came experiences of assault, grief, bullying, and being overlooked or targeted in the workplace. Each of these left scars that ran deeper than I could admit at the time. For years, I tried to hold it all in — the pressure, the pain, the silence through alcohol and substances. But it built until I couldn’t contain it anymore, and I crashed hard. My mental health episode was frightening, for me and for those around me. What has made it harder is the culture I grew up in. In South Asian communities, mental health is often brushed aside, stigmatized, or seen as weakness. Instead of compassion, I felt shame. Instead of understanding, I carried guilt. I believed I had let down the people I loved most. But I am learning that what happened was not my fault. Trauma is not a choice. Crashes are not punishments. They are the body and mind crying out for care. I am still here. I am learning to see my sensitivity and survival not as flaws, but as proof of resilience. Sharing my story is part of releasing the shame and reclaiming my voice. My hope is that others who have lived through pain and silence — especially in communities where mental health is hidden — can know they are not alone. Our stories matter. Our survival matters.

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 had been really good friends with this boy for 3-4 years and I was talking to him about how upset I was that I had just ended things with this guy I really liked. My 'friend' then started being like flirty with me so I thought he was doing it to cheer me up and just went along with it. He then proceeded to ask me questions that were making me feel uncomfortable like "if it was just us two in a room for 24 hrs what would we do" and "if we got together what would we do" and I just tried to blow it off and say oh yh just hugs and movies or something like that because I didn't know what to say. He then asked to meet me at the park after school so I can clear my head and talk about things so I agreed but he was being very secretive about it but I just brushed it off because I kept telling myself that its just a friends thing. When we got to the park we sat down on one of them circle swings and he started to kiss me, at this point I was like wtf but just carried on bc i didnt know what to do or say. When he was kissing me he kept covering my nose and my mouth with his mouth so i literally couldnt breathe so i started like hiding behind his shoulder in hope that he would just give up. He then started to grap my boobs and tried to go down my pants which I then told him "Stop I am not comfortable with that", he carried on anyway and then he tried to make me do stuff to him (I had never done anything to a guy at this point so i literally didnt know what to do anyway). Even after i told him to stop doing that or stop making me do that countless times, he carried on. After a while I said I needed to leave bc my grandparents are over and gave him a hug goodbye and after that i instantly called my bestfriend and just started crying over the phone to her.

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.

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

Experiencing sexual harassment in the workplace was shit. I was a single parent. I was informed by my employer that I couldnt quit the job without being able to prove I was experiencing sexual harassment. With my employer, if you leave a job without good reason, they can refuse to pay. I had a daughter to take care of, and responsibilities. By that point, my power was already being put out, and light gone. I was quite lucky; as I was still with a union. But I couldnt use my voice. I started dressing down for work, not caring about my appearance; not taking care, not looking professional. I couldnt find help. Didnt know what to do. I managed to get away, a signed off holiday for a week; although even then I was just swimming in dark waters, not thinking about it, trying to push it away, deep down; it didnt happen. I returned from my break, not sure if it was a day or the same day, my wages were deducted. So much so that I wouldnt have been able to pay the rent or get through the month. It was like a lid coming off. An eruption. It was a small warehouse, with a small cabin. I was in disbelief at first. Then my mouth opened and I just let go slowly building up to a shout saying you took my money, you took my money, then shouting the obscenities that they had committed in the work place against me, I wasnt even aware it was happening, tears of anger pouring out. I was sacked the same day, within minutes. The worst part at the time I left to go outside to ring the union, and they told me to go back in My power was constantly being taken. Now there was no personal or human resources, just the director. Given letter and off I went. Advised by union to go to police. They took my statement. A day or so later I was informed by a police woman over the phone that the only reason I was reporting the sexual harassment was because I was fired. The union wrote a letter confirming that this wasnt the case as I had been in contact with them prior to contacting the police and being fired. Didint make any difference. The police never contacted me after that. However, I did find out by chance later on that on their records its says I didnt want them to do anything about it. Which wasnt true. I managed through the union to take it to a tribunal. I wish I hadnt gone on my own. I felt so unclean for such a time after the event; there were triggers, lots (continued for years). Having to go to the tribunal although they didnt have the guts to turn up, there was a directors partner there, they followed me into the building having almost bumped into me on the way there; giving me dirty looks etc. I had the barrister there eventually, who was quick talking and looking to get it over and done with. It was never about the money, it was justice and them admitting what they did. But they never did. They did call round my home before the tribunal at about 3-4am. I didnt answer the door. The judge seemed very one sided for the employer. I never got the chance to talk. It was like being a victim all over again and losing my voice. They said how kind etc this guy was. It all gave me the creeps that these 3 people were saying that it was ok what he did. The judge seemed to be going with them. They decided to settle. That was it. I sought counselling, but its never gone away. I've been a full time carer since. The thought of working with men again well, I would prefer to set up my own business so that I never have to be in that situation again. The other thing I dont see mentioned often is the aftermath. Youve spoken up which really takes some. Its the revenge that person takes after. they've not stopped. Theyve gotten other people to do their dirty work. These people must be under the illusion that I made it all up. Its a few years now, and they are still instigating others to harass me for telling the truth and making a stand. The Me too movement had just started a couple of months after my ordeal. The ordeal never goes away, like grief. Its disempowering. Its the hindsight, its the fear of freezing again. Ive not been the same person since. I have a gagging order, not allowed to talk about it. I think thats bullshit. Another way to disempower and allow them to walk around and do it again. I know for a fact that they did it to someone else before me. I bet theyve done it since; obviously, I hope not. The problem is, the constant revenge style they have going on means they've not reflected on their behaviour once or considered how wrong it is. They continue as though they have a right to touch another human being without consent in any way they wish. There were three people at the tribunal that agreed with that. Even the judge at the end was surprised that they settled. Where is the justice in that and the ethical considerations? The police response at the time, from a police woman. What kind of society do we have? I wonder from the me to movement what it would be like now for others to come forward? I also wonder, what are we educating our young boys in school and at home about consent and respect to women and themselves. Why did all those people look the other way, or project that it was acceptable behaviour? Im not the same person.

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.

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.

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 will not longer live in fear for my self and my sons life. I will no longer be told how ugly and fat I am. I will no longer have him put his hands on me. I will no longer allow bruises on my face. I will no longer let this happen to someone else. I was in a situation where I couldn't leave for a long time and couldn't ask for help. The most fear I have ever been in in my life. But I have a 3-year-old son and NO ONE will ever hurt him the way they hurt me. I am putting a stop to being the victim and taking back control in my own life. One thing that I learned that is the most important to me... Is that you're never alone, and you are beautiful!

I was 16 I just started college when I met my ex he was 17 We talked for a week and then started dating he would manipulate me in to doing things and tell he things and gaslighted me And he would SA me every time I saw him Multiple times I dated him for almost 4 months when I broke up with him On the Date I when to is house and he SA I took my phone from me and when I went to get it he would pull me , drag me and push me away from it buy my arms and legs I broke up with him 2 day later This was almost 2 years old I reported it to the police He also SA 2 other people in the same class Who also reported him