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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.

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

I have had several experiences in my life that at the time I didn't fully access the severity of. As I got older, I started to recognise my own boundaries better and started to protect myself. I always blamed myself for earlier experiences, believing I got myself into a mess and just had to endure it. Reflecting back, I realise that I was raped and am going through various motions of grief and trauma. Part of me thinks I got this far without addressing it, maybe I can keep progressing and leave it behind. Another part of me thinks, maybe a lot of the issues I have had over the years are related to these experiences. I don't really know. I have brought it up to therapists, but they skim over it and go back to the formula they have preset in their notes. Sadly I haven't got the money for a good therapist. I haven't really told my story much or at all in some cases, but I have wanted to in a safe space and anonymously. So herr I go. I will tell two of my stories. There are more, sadly, but this is all I can manage for now. My first experience I was 14. I was groomed by a man in his mid twenties. Before I even realised what was happening, he was taking me back to his apartment to have sex. I didn't have time to think about whether or not I wanted to be there or if I could say no. Suddenly I was there and I hated it. It was painful and I felt horrible. It happened again another time. I was also coerced into oral sex. All of these events happened so fast, I always thought maybe I had missed something or didn't realise that I had agreed to move in this direction. He told me he loved me and maybe he did. All I know is that when I moved away and got some space from the situation, I felt really bad about the whole thing. I had no one to talk to about it. I couldn't tell my parents for fear of judgment, failure or being blamed for bad decisions (being in the wrong place etc). My parents were strict, so I did a lot of sneaking around, which is probably what lead to me being vulnerable. I was in my late 30s when I finally accepted that it was wrong, I was groomed and he stole so much from me. A second experience had a similar structure. I was suddenly in a moment I didn't feel I could escape, wondered how I got myself there and just waited for it to be over. I had consented to having sex with a guy at uni. I didn't know him well, but we had a few interactions and he had flirted a lot with me from the off. Kept telling me how beautiful I was etc. I was charmed and we had sex. During the sex, he asked for anal and I said no. Well, he did it anyway. I said no and stop, but then resolved to waiting for it to be over, thinking I must have let him do it if it was happening. He continued to have sex with me throughout the night, despite me trying many times to untangle and sleep. That also felt like torture. I attempted to go for a shower and he followed me. I didn't understand why it was going on so long and prayed for him to be done. I didn't advocate for myself enough or really understand what was happening. After I had such bad injuries I couldn't walk, sit or move properly for a couple of weeks. I ended up in hospital with a kidney infection, a direct result of the encounter. I was in huge denial about the whole thing. Flatmates heard me screaming and asked me about it the next day. I laughed it off and said just a bit of rough anal. Another friend questioned my physical injuries and I did the same. He engages in regular anal sex with men and after asking a few questions, said it sounded like I had been raped. I laughed it off. He was concerned, but not close enough to pursue me more on the matter. It wasn't until I experienced flash backs 15 years later, I fully accepted what had happened. The flash backs were triggered by a consent workshop I had attended at a gathering, which opened my eyes. I have had more encounters, but these two are the ones that haunt me the most. I am a mother now and happily married. I am a strong woman and generally don't take shit from anyone. I don't think I jad the skills to really protect myself as a younger woman. I had always been educated to believe rape was by strangers in a dark alley. I hadn't prepared for assaults from friends. Nearly all my assaults have been by friends or acquaintances. I am so thankful for the me too movement. It is paving the way for better education and protection.

After seeing 'It Ends With Us', I felt I wanted to share my story. I saw this movie alone for the first watch, brought my Atlas to the second, and my bestfriend to the third. Watching it left me feeling empowered to anonymously share my story of abuse and violence. The film and the book brought back so many raw emotions, ones that I still struggle with today. My story started when I was 16 years old and I was with my first 'love', everything was OK in the beginning - but suddenly everything changed. I was constantly told how worthless I was, I got pushed down his stairs - but I wouldn't leave - and I didn't know why. He was controlling and did not like other people talking to me, going to extreme lengths to stop this from happening, and making sure my friends did not see me - people who he saw as a threat. I ended up in the hospital because of him, where he broke my hand. He got that mad at me once, we were in his car and just before I could shut the door and put on my seat belt, he started driving recklessly to scare me. What scared me more was when I was sleeping and I felt his hands around my throat - with no explanation. There were many times that I would say stop and he would carry on because he told me he was in control. I had cigarettes put out on me -multiple times, and was told that I was disgusting and looked like a sl*t, even telling me I was 'fat' - which led to further health issues. When I ended up with a bruise, my friend who is now my Atlas noticed - we worked together. I confined in him, and he was the first person to properly listen to me, and let me share my experiences. Throughout all this, it brought me overwhelming anxiety and depression and even the lengths of having to have therapy because to me it was a nightmare even when it was over, and reported multiple times. My parents never understood, asking me why I didn't just leave, telling me I must've wanted it to carry on. I didn't. I'm nearly 10 years later now, with my Atlas of 5 years, feeling happier and in a better place physically and mentally - I'm still healing. This movie brought me to tears and I related so much to Lily Bloom - some of it felt like my experiences - but the film also brought me a type of feeling of freedom and happiness. Thank you for letting me share my story. ❤️

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.