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In my original shared story, IT STARTED WITH MY BROTHER, I talked about my abuse from a bird’s eye view. It was my abuse life as I was able to share it at the time. I have been working up to sharing 3 instances of rapes that I only avoided by allowing the men to take what they wanted instead of fighting. The most traumatic of the three incidents I mentioned involved a police officer. This is that account. I was pulled over on my way home from a study group as junior at the university on a week night. We had shared two drinks toward the end. I DO NOT condone driving and drinking but I was not drunk, as the breathalyzer later confirmed. I was pulled over and already had the nerves associated with that, amplified by the fact that I was under the legal drinking age for another three weeks. That is when I first met the cop I will just call SIK. He gave me a creepy vibe when I first saw him and that never stopped. Still, I flirted with him to an extent desperate to not get it huge trouble. He had me get out of the car, take of my hoodie, under which I only had a basic sports bra. It was only sixty degrees or so that night. I was cold and shivering from fear and the temperature. I saw him look at my body with no filter. Another cop car pulled up with two officers while I was doing the field sobriety tests. He had already searched me in an uncomfortable way. One of the officers who arrived was female and also searched me after he had said I had some problems with the sobriety tests. Walking backwards on an imaginary line heel to toe was the only thing I had trouble with. It is hard! The female cop brought out the breath test I had asked for. I blew 0.035. That is less than half the legal limit. At that point SIK said he was just going to follow me home, rather than arrest me, and the other car left. The whole stop took maybe an hour. Cars drove by on the side street I had pulled onto. Headlights and tail lights in the dark. After the other car left SIK talked to me more harshly and threatening than ever. He said a girl like me is probably used to getting away with everything. He asserted that he could still take me to jail anytime he decides as as he takes me home and makes sure I am safe everything I do is still a test. He could bust me for possession of alcohol and I would lose my license. I was scared. I told him my roommate was home. She was a student too and was supposed to be there. After following me inside my apartment I called out for my roommate. Then I checked her room. She was not there! SIK then accused me of lying to a police officer and locked the deadbolt from the inside. He made me stand with my hands on my own dining room wall with my legs spread. I wanted to call her so he could talk to her and confirm she was usually there, but he stopped me and made me just text her to see when she would be home. He gave instruction not to ask or say anything more and checked before I sent it. She was at her sisters and would not be back until late. At that point he took off his utility belt and put it on my kitchen counter. He told me after all he had done for me was no longer free, since I lied to him. His gun was right there next to us. He made sure I saw it and he even twisted it so it was pointed toward me. I was scared and pleading with him. I really was willing to do anything. I am not sure but I think I told him that. He radioed from his shoulder thing that he was taking a “lunch” break. What I definitely remember was when he said he was going to do a proper strip search this time, down to full nudity and asked if I agreed to that. At that point I no longer had a doubt what was happening. I made the mental adjustment but what he did was more than I had prepared for. He gave me vulgar compliments about my body as he blatantly molested me. He kneaded my breasts like dough. He fingered me as asked if you could use a special appendage he had that went farther in. I knew what he meant. I was repulsed but I agreed. After the initial eager sex with me still having my hands on the wall leaning forward he slowed down. I had been hoping it was almost over but he decided to prolong it. He commanded me to my bedroom. He took off all his clothes besides his socks. He complemented his own anatomy and made me agree. His member was well above average in size but I doubt, if he had not had a wedding band on, that he would ever get to use it. He was half bald, had a prominent eyebrow like a neanderthal, and a pale beer belly with lots of moles all over his body. He had a mustache and goatee that did not completely hide his poor complexion that looked like he had scars from severe acne. Almost all men all taller than me but he was short and only towered over me by a few inches. Never had I lied bigger than when I told him what he wanted to hear about being sexy and wanting him. The only truth was about his large penis. SIK spoke a lot, mostly degrading me and confirming that I agree with him. Cliche stuff, like me being a whore, slut, dirty, and liking what he made me do to him, but also asked about my sex life and abuse history. He wanted me to say that my dad and coaches abused me, but I would not lie about that. Instead I told him some of the truth about my brother abusing me. That was probably the worst part. Saying out loud to SIK what I never used to admit to anyone, for his great pleasure, harmed me. That was worse that the physical stuff. Worse than making me kiss him during parts of it. He was also cruel. He tried to gag me and push all the way down my throat while he made him do oral. He pushed my ankles behind my head while he pounded me with his abusing thrusts. I could see the cruel lust in his eyes. I could see his wicked smile. He slapped my face many times, just not very hard. He did spank me hard. He realized he had me captive and vulnerable to his whim and he was finally living his darkest fantasies. I was doing anything he wanted and encouraging it because I wanted it to stop. So many times he stopped himself right before he was going to climax! He did not want it to end. SIK tried to have anal sex with me and I was accommodating him but he was just too big to fit. I was crying during most of this out of pain but trying to act like an eager partner to make it end. I later thought that might have prolonged it. SIK was probably the time that would prefer I suffer more, like I was being raped instead of hiding my pain. It was not much longer than twenty minutes but it was so bad and I relived it so many times in my mind before I got smashed drunk and high the next night after work. So the memory lived much more prominently in my head than a simple 25 minute encounter. I do reach climax easily, but I never had one orgasm from him because of his preference for causing sexual pain. When he suddenly released inside me he got quiet and barely said another word as he dressed, gun belt and all, and left quietly. I have no idea what that meant. It scared me. I was afraid while driving for a while, and avoided sleeping at home as much as I could, which sometimes meant sleeping with men and even male friends just to not go home. It was the main reason I did not renew my lease and moved it to a smaller apartment by myself. This was the same roommate whose father had already slept with me without my initial blessing. I did tell my roommate a short version of it and she reacted like it was cool story. I did kind of tell it that way, as a way of dealing with it. The easy path of least resistance. To not admit it may have been the worse sexual thing to happen to me. The true worst things that happened to me in my college years were broken hearts from losing men I loved. But those are stories for a different forum. I don’t put my heart out there to be trampled anymore. This incident was one of the wake up calls that stood out as an omen for me to change my whole lifestyle and try to salvage myself. It was also one of the things that took me the longest to mention to my therapist even though I thought about it during sessions.

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.

I am female and I was sexually assaulted by a female friend when we were 9 years old. I want to share this because I cannot seem to find another story on female on female COCSA and it makes me feel like what happened to me wasn't "bad enough" because it was a girl and it was another child my age. I know that thought isn't true but it has taken me a while to realise what happened was assault and was "bad enough" and I think it would have helped if I had heard stories similar to mine, so I am hoping this could help someone who has been in the same situation as me. It happened when I was around 8 or 9 years old. I don't remember everything from start to finish or how many times it happened but then other parts of it (like surroundings and smells) are so vivid. I will just share what I remember. I don't know what led up to this point but the the first memory I have is just me laying on my back on my bed and she was on top of me pinning me down and I was scared and trying to wriggle away and get her off me. I remember the smirk on her face, it's like she found it funny and she was enjoying watching me squirm. I remember trying to hard to get her off me but at the same time not wanting to hurt her because she was my friend. So I wasn't hitting or being aggressive I was just trying to wriggle out from under her while she was sat on top of me on my stomach/chest. This friend was a nice friend who was not aggressive or nasty so I think this is what made it all even more confusing. I don't even think she knows she did something wrong? I have no idea. I feel so embarrassed to say the following but I am going to do it because its anonymous and it could maybe help someone feel better about what happened to them. I remember her pulling down her trousers while still straddling/hovering over me. As soon she she did this I was TERRYFIED. I was so scared. Next thing I remember is her bum coming towards me and sitting on my face. I feel so embarrassed saying this, it sounds so stupid but it was so scary and I didn't want it. The next thing I remember is her above me again and facing me (trousers were still down) with her vagina out for me to see and near my face. I remember her touching her vagina with her fingers and then trying to touch my mouth with her fingers/put her fingers in my mouth. I was so so so scared and doing everything I could to move my head away and make sure her fingers didn't touch me. I remember the smell of her vagina and I have imagine of it close to my face but I can't remember if it touched my face. I was so scared. I remember feeling so confused and also terrified my mum was going to walk in. I knew what was happening wasn't right. I don't remember much else except from those two flash backs and then I remember pretending to go to sleep after in a different bed. I don't know why I didn't hit her to get her off me or scream for my mum to hear, I don't know why i felt scared that my mum was going to come in, as is I was the one doing something wrong? I liked this friend, she was nice and not a bully so i think it made it more confusing because I didn't want to be mean or hurt her or anyone to think badly of her. Another memory I have after that is having a sleepover round her house and I just remember feeling uncomfortable and I remember she was wearing a night-dress with no underwear and we had to share a bed and I felt so uncomfortable and I didn't want to be close to her in bed. I have icky feeling about that night but I can't remember if anything happened. I am now 24 years old and finally now only realising that what happened to me was COCSA and realising how much it has effected me. I have suffered with depression for years and been on medication for the last 8 years. I've always wondered why my depression wouldn't go away. I have no reason to be sad, I have a good family, lots of friends, a job, a great boyfriend... yet I can't seem to shake the depression off. I have repressed the memories of what happened that day for 11 years and I have no idea why it has all come up to the front of my mind now but I now just can't seem to ignore it. It's all I've though about for 2 weeks and I can't believe its taken me this long to realise what happened and to realise that that situation has cause so many issue in my life. I was such a happy child and I was so innocent. She exposed me to things I didn't know about and shouldn't have known about. I was too young. It left me confused and ashamed. I then have memories of me masturbating and watching porn and even one time I showed another friend porn. I feel awful that I showed someone else my age porn when we were so young. None of us should have been exposed to that. I even feel sorry for the girl who assaulted me because I can't help but think she must have been getting abused herself because why else would she know the things she was doing? I don't hold any anger towards her because I don't think she meant to cause this harm to me. For years I have felt great shame. I have questioned my own sexuality for years because of it. I have questioned if I enjoyed it? I have had so many confusing feelings about it. I have tried to hard to forget about it and have managed to go years at a time without the memory resurfacing. I have felt so much hatred and shame towards myself. I haven't been able to pin-point why I felt that way until now that these memories have come back. I told my boyfriend but he didn't deal with it well. He cried, which made me feel worse about what happened. I feel the urge to speak to someone about it because I can't stop thinking about what happened. It makes me feel anxious like I'm going to have a panic attack. It feels like its so close to coming out of my mouth and I just NEED to tell someone. I want to tell my mum or sister but I am so scared they are going to judge me. I'm scared they will think I'm weird. Or that it's not a big deal. I don't think I actually could let the words come out of my mouth to tell my family. When I reflect my teenage/adult years, a lot more things make sense. My depression, self-loathing, shame, low self-esteem.. all makes more sense. I have been a people pleaser my whole life and have been awful at setting boundaries for myself. I have continuously let friends, boyfriends and people in power cross my boundaries. I feel like I haven't respected myself very much in some ways and I regret not sticking up for myself when I have been in uncomfortable situations. 1st example: When I was 17, my driving instructor (who was in his 40's or 50's, married and had a daughter my age) made a few inappropriate comments. One of those being about me giving him a blow job and another time about me kissing me. Which I awkwardly laughed and didn't say anything to which he seemed offended and then said "I'll take that as a no then". I still didn't say anything and just felt awkward and changed subject. I continued to have lessons with him. I should have told him he's a disgusting pervert and never got back in his car again. But I felt bad and didn't want to upset him. My brother also has the same driving instructor and really liked him and I didn't want to cause any issue or for people to think badly of the instructor. 2nd example: When I was 12 or 13, I sat next to a boy in English class. He put his had on my thigh. I told him no and pulled his hand away. He kept trying to do it again and I kept saying no and pulling his hand away. I was not sexually active yet, nor did I want to be and I didn't even fancy this boy. I thought he was disgusting. He didn't stop and ending up touching me through my knickers. I remember being scared and uncomfortable. I didn't want him to do it but I didn't want to get him in trouble or draw attention to it. I was scared the teacher would see and we would maybe both be in trouble. I can't remember how it ended but I think eventually he took no for an answer. Once again, I now regret not shouting "what are you doing? get off me!" I don't understand why i was so scared about making other people upset or making other look bad? I was choosing that over my own comfort/boundaries. 3rd example: From ages 18-21, I was in an emotionally abusive relationship (which also got physical on a few occasions). I let that boyfriend strip me of any self- confidence I had left. He constantly belittled me, made me question my own experiences, gas-lit me, scared me, pushed me to the ground/off the bed when he was angry, smash things around me when he was angry, tell me I'm dumb, disgusting, embarrassing, pathetic. I was so manipulated by him, I was just the shell of my former self by the end of that relationship. When I look back at the relationship, I realise how much it affected me and also how wrong some things were (including sexual things). After a couple of years in the relationship, I didn't often want to be sexual with him because he was horrible to me and made me feel like sh*t and I started to resent him eventually. I would never kiss him or go near him sexually. He would sometimes be nice to me and It was great and I felt loved and then we would have sex and INSTANTLY after he would stop making any effort or being affectionate to me at all. As soon as he got what he wanted he would just switch back to how he normally was. Towards the end of the relationship shit, when we would have sex, I was just doing it because he wanted to do it not because I wanted to. I would just lay there and hope he would hurry up and finish. I could tell he didn't care about me or my pleasure either. He would just f*ck me like a object until he was finished. It was all for him, not me. To add to that, most of these encounters were after he had convinced/persuaded me to have sex after I said I wasn't in the mood for sex. On several occasions he asked me to perform oral on him and I told him I didn't want to. He wouldn't stop asking until I gave in. He would beg for it until I caved and did it. He even offered to take me for dinner or give me money if I did it (which I obviously declined). It just shows how little respect he had for me, my own boyfriend of 3 years was trying to bribe me into sexual favours when he knows I didn't want to do it. I remember multiple times after he kept going on and on trying to persuade me to give him oral, I would finally say "okay fine but just so you know, I don't want to do it so it won't be very good/it probably won't be very enjoyable" and he still wanted me to do it. I'm literally saying I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS and he still didn't care, he just wanted what he wanted. I feel as though I am getting better at boundaries and I think I am ready to go to therapy about what happened when I was 9 and my last relationship. I can't help by think what happened when I was 9 is the reason for why I am how I am. I never understood why I was so depressed. None of my family or friends could understand why because in there eyes "I had it all" and had a great life. I also think what happened when I was 9 is the reason why I ended up in an abusive relationship and ended up being such a people pleaser and not being good at setting boundaries and just letting people disrespect me. I really hope one day I can live a happy life. I hope sharing this helps someone else who experience COCSA and/or female on female sexual assault, realise it is just as wrong and just as valid.

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.

No more feeling shame. The shame is my abuser's to bear. I was in an abusive relationship 7 years. She would Yell and throw items around the room. Tell me who I can and can't see, and where I could go. She would degrade me by playing on any insecurity I had. If I questioned her motives I was gas lighted to change my way of thinking. She would smack my chest and call it play fighting. She would convince me "I'm the only one who is looking out for you" she monitored where I was and how long I was there. I would hid in the bathroom, because I was terrified of her. She would convince me to cut people out of my life. She would manipulate me emotionally and physically. Everything was on her terms, she loved that I feared her. No more feeling afraid of speaking my truth. #yournotalone

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

When I was 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.

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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.

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.

8M (me) 11F (cousin) 12M (cousin) were at a family function just playing house (it just dawned on me that 11-12 year olds don't play house and that the only reason we played house was for this) until it was night time in which we all got in the bed I lied at the bottom of their feet as their child as they had sex in front of me not even .5 foot away from me I just hid in fear 10M 13F 14M my older cousin led us into the woods and told my female cousin to strip she complied and then they started going at it with each other I just stood silently observing this horrible sight; seeing my female cousin in such a way felt so wrong to me my cousin then asked me to join him and I did, I was clueless just stood their as it happened; biggest regret of my life this one mistake started a snowball effect that still haunts me 12M 15F 16M yet another family function my cousins were drinking this time and came up to me hammered and asking me to come upstairs we end up smoking weed and my older cousin starts to tease my female cousin; by this time this ordeal had happened at pretty much every meeting of us I had even started pleasuring myself watching them (I never got involved because I wanted to keep myself) this time however my older cousin has fallen into a drunk slumber and my female cousin was already "ignited" she came up to me and said "lucky for you ive been ignited and all I need is for someone to come diminish me" (I remember those words 1:1) my female cousin then took my purity from me, I didn't even try to fight her or try to ask her to stop I was telling myself I didn't want to yet I pleaded for her to help me I still don't have it wrapped in my head if I was a victim or if I was just as predatory as them, I know that my older cousin started manipulating my female cousin and I didn't stop him because I enjoyed it, yet again I was 10 years old I couldn't grasp the gravity and severity of what we were doing I even viewed it as just complimentary and normal and that we were just helping each other, but the other part of me hates me for it.

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.

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.

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 was 18 and had gone back to a friend of an old friend of mine's house. I was there with him (H), his friend (J - who's house it was) my closest female friend (E) and a few others. We drank a lot and we ended up playing strip poker. I didn't feel totally comfortable with it at the time but wanted to join in. As we were playing, it became my turn to take my top off, so I did. I went to the toilet but wasn't sure where to go in this house I wasn't familiar with. J offered to show me to the toilet and I accepted. He kissed me on the way there and picked me up and took me to his bedroom. I didn't mind, and then it got a bit intense and I stopped feeling okay with it. I was hoping my friend (E) would notice I was missing. He tried to have sex with me and I kept refusing, eventually, I just let it happen. I heard E shouting up to me from downstairs and J got angry, he stopped and told me to go downstairs. It was 4:30am and he threw us out of his house in the thick snow. I remember how cold the walk was. I felt so vulnerable, drunk and scared in that moment. There was only one person we felt we could call and that was a drug dealer we had known, he was a man other men were wary of so we thought he would be the safest option (looking back, I have 0 idea why we thought that was a good idea). The next morning I told my friend E what had happened, J was someone she knew fairly well and she was disgusted when I told her. She phoned him straight away and he denied everything, said I was lying. I'll never forget that instant wave of doubt. Was I lying? Had I led him on? Was it my fault for playing strip poker with everybody? 5 years later and I still doubt my memory, doubt whether I was raped or not. Rape. It's such a strong word isn't it?

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.

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.

When I was 10, I went on a camping trip for my cousins 80th birthday. There were so many family members there and I remember it being freezing outside. I was in a camper with my dad on the pullout couch. My 40 year old cousin name in the back bedroom and his girlfriend was on the kitchen table that was made into a bed. I couldn’t sleep and my cousin name was up and he saw me shivering and told me to come to the back bedroom because it would be warmer there. I, of course, agreed because I felt safe with him and trusted him. Soon after laying down he started asking me if I was asleep. At first I responded, “No” but then I got tired of responding. Eventually he thought I was asleep and put his hand on my side before moving it under my sports bra. I remember this sports bra. It was a shitty Walmart shorts bra, grey in color, and it was one of the first bras I had ever worn. He turned me around and kissed me through my clenched teeth. I was begging to wake up from this nightmare. He stuck his hand down my pants. He got up and I remember hearing crinkling noise and looking back on it, he might have been opening a condom, but I didn’t know that. Once he got back into the bed, I pretended to wake up and got back on the couch with my dad. I remember laying there in shock with what just happened. I laid there eyes wide open and I couldn’t sleep. Eventually I told friends and family and I’m so thankful for how supportive they were of me.

one day my phone had broke and my uncle went to get it fixed for me I didn’t know that he had gone bought my phone and found that I was speaking to a boy. Later that day my dad told me to get my uncle from his room for dinner (he was living with us). When I had gone up he told me to come in the room so I did he then proceeded to ask me questions about this boy asking if I loved him and more then he said that he could tell I was letting boys touch me because my boobs were getting bigger. After that he said if I wanted to be touched by anyone don’t go to these boys and to go to him. As I was going to leave the room he told me to kiss his cheek and I did it because I was scared he would tell my dad I was speaking to a boy (I live in a strict household) he also has pictures of me on his phone where I am wearing a vest top he said it was inappropriate and would show my dad. To this day I don’t know what to call what happened to me I haven’t found the strength to tell my parents and my uncle still comes to my house weekly after he moved out. Is it sexual assault or am I just overreacting?

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.