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When I was four years old, my cousin X groped me. The first time: I was playing with my cousins, who were close to my age. It suddenly started raining, so we all hid under a tree, but one by one, we went home to use the bathroom. Finally, it was me and my cousin X's younger brother who stayed behind. The younger brother went home because he was cold, and I, being close to the younger boy, tried to go home with him. At that moment, he grabbed me by the arm and told me to stay. I was really scared. He suddenly grabbed me from behind, put his hand under my skirt, and groped me. He held my mouth, so I couldn't call for help from anyone he could see through the trees. I don't know if it was because of the age difference, but he only groped me. The second time, it was at my cousin X's house. I was close to his younger brother (A), and his parents liked him. I was four years old the second time too. We went to play games. Cousin X put me on his lap and groped me so our parents wouldn't see. I didn't want A, who was sitting next to me, to find out. I tried my best not to make a sound. Even though there were people around, I thought he was doing something wrong, so I couldn't say anything. I was too scared to run away. There was no way I could win by force, and I didn't know what he was doing. All I could think about was that he was doing something wrong. I still meet up with that person. But only twice. But it drove me crazy. I've been interested in sexual things since I was little, and sometimes I feel disgusted by myself as a woman. Not being able to talk to anyone about it makes it even harder, and I wonder why he seems to be living a happy life. But even so, I can't tell my parents about him. Even though I really hate him to death.

In my survival story, "Just Words, Dirty Words", I shared so much and I brushed over an experience with a male gynecologist. It was a much bigger deal that I let on because it had triggered my previous abuse as an adolescent on my first job. I wonted other girls and women to understand what is not okay for a gynecologist to do. It was not until after it happened that I realized the full impact. I realized I had let myself be victimized again without trying to stop it. I felt self-loathing and anxiety. I write this letter to that opportunistic predator. You broke your oath. You betrayed the trust. You are terrible! I have done research on what a breast and pelvic exam is supposed be like and understand you used the framework to sexually assault me. I was late for the appointment to get birth control at the university clinic when I had just moved for college. You let me in even though you had no nurse chaperon, it seemed that you might have sent them home after putting me in the room. You are a man and that is against policy. We shared our first eye contact and I ignored your lust and first glance flirtation. You saw I was vulnerable and needed something from you. You told me as a new patient you have to do a full first visit exam. Now I believe you may have lied. I nodded and put down my guard. When you returned I was undressed wearing a paper smock for a false sense of security. I was self conscious even though I had impeccable hygiene and grooming but worried I was not fresh enough so late in the day because you were a man and you made it sexual. You examined my breasts with no gloves. I said nothing. I knew you were massaging them for you pleasure. You went on for five minutes like that. I think five whole minutes while you kept talking. When my boss used to molest me just seconds was plenty to make me feel sick and used. He would sit on my torso, compressing my ribs to the point I could not take a deep breath and have sex with my breasts and he usually took less time than you. do remember you used the words “wonderful” and “amazing” when commenting on by breast health. We could both smell the musk from down below from stimulating me like that. I was embarrassed. You should have been the one ashamed! You mentioned the textures and gave some instructional anatomy to pretend it might be official. You asked random questions and you shared personal stories like it was a date. All the while you were groping my tits like a pervert. Both hands at the same time! I tried to cover for you by pretending like this was not insane and not a sexual assault. You were twice my age and your mustache was ridiculous. You finally moved on to the pelvic exam. You said the words, “Very nice” when you lifted up the paper drape to help my feet into the stirrups. That is not appropriate when viewing a patient’s vagina for the first time. You explained every step from “I’m going to touch your thighs now” to “take a deep breath as I insert the speculum”. That part was quick but then you explained the manual exam that you did for too long. You inserted two fingers to check for cervical motion tenderness but rubbed my clitoris with your lubricated thumb as you did so. That was wrong! You explained that you were going to move your other hand to check for tenderness of my ovaries to check for infection but kept working your other hand on my clit and inside me. You put what felt like three fingers in me! You were sexually assaulting me again. Breaching my trust. Ignoring you oath. As a last indignity you felt for masses in the space between my vagina and rectum. You left your thumb in my vagina while you put a finger in my anus and moved them both back and in and out explaining you thought you felt something for a second but it resolved on massage, meaning it was nothing to worry about. You raped me! That was rape! I looked it up and what you were doing is a real part of an exam but no gynecologist had done that before then or ever since! Instead of leaving the room while I dressed you stayed and helped by holding out my clothes! Totally inappropriate! You should not have a medical license! Sure I let you, and I cooperated, and even tried to endure it and put on a pleasant face. I was a different person then and you just continued my cycle of being abused by men. But the anus part was where I felt true terror and wanted to get out. You gave me a business card with your name on it and told me to call and ask when you were working to schedule next visit. Then you only wrote me for 1 refill on 30 day birth control! Like I would even come back to be assaulted again. You smug abuser of power and trust! I left with you thinking I enjoyed that and would see you again!!! You make me want to scream and pound on things! It was delayed, but my abuse anxiety was triggered that night, and days after. I will never see a male gynecologist again. Your lust and greed is not better than that of a rapist. You broke my trust in the medical system and I still get anxiety at any doctor visit. Just because a girl’s reaction to abuse is not instant, because of some survival mechanism, does not make it any less painful. Sometimes even more, because we feel guilty for not being strong and assertive. You were in a position of authority and abused it so badly. You should be ashamed, doctor! You should be in prison!

Hello! I don't know how to go about this at all, but I know I need to put it out there. I am a lesbian over 21 years of age, and I experienced rape and sexual assault by my last lesbian partner. I apologize if this is long, but if anyone reads this, it's greatly appreciated! I met my ex last January, and we texted for about a month before we had our first date. the first date went well, nothing concerning. The second date, which was 2-3 days after our first one, was where it all started. I didn't mind that she kissed me first, but I got nervous when she told me she wanted to take it to the backseat. She started to grope me and to palm me through my clothing before eventually trying to get her hand in my jeans. I stopped her and told her I wasn't comfortable doing any of that yet. Her response was "Oh, but eventually you will want to, right?" and to that I said "yes, but not right now." She continued anyway. That's the moment I look back on and wish I had left. I stayed. Maybe a date or two pass without her doing anything concerning again before there's another incident. We are in her car outside her workplace for an event we chose to go to. There are people on the street. She starts making out with me, to which I feel icky about bc people can probably see us and it's not appropriate. This time she starts to palm me through my skirt again, and at this point I kind of don't remember much other than me saying that I was scared and nervous, and it doesn't seem safe, and her coercing me. Before I know it, she has her hand down my underwear and is raping me. we didn't go to the event. we left and she told me next time she could find a secluded place. she never did. and that's where it all started. over the next 5 months she would rape me in her car every single chance she could. every single time I told her I wasn't comfortable. I would wear tight underwear, but she would still do everything to do it. if she didn't, she would get mad and stonewall me. but there was never once where it wasn't attempted. the worst night was maybe a month after it all started. again, in her backseat. it was in a fairly public parking lot, she tried to cover the windows with clothes, but it was still obviously visible. she made me lay down and take off all my bottoms and completely spread open. it was so humiliating. she then proceeded to violently rape me so bad and painful I was crying and holding on my screams bc I didn't want to bring attention to the situation or possibly get in trouble. I told her I was comfortable and that I wanted to scream but she just threw a cloth over my face so I wouldn't focus on it. after I had to put my clothes back on and I ruined them. I was in pain for maybe up to a weel after or a bit more. now I wish I had gotten evidence of that night, but I have none. In total I think it happened around 14 times. the same care situations in public that I hated. during the relationship I was blinded to an extent, and I didn't realize it counted as rape until after we broke up. At first, I had accepted what happened but now I have a new partner. my new partner coincidentally works with my rapist ex. ever since finding that out I feel completely distraught and suffocated by what she did to me. Not only that. before finding out they worked together they sat next to each other and were becoming friends. so my ex told my current gf how I am a terrible person and that she's afraid of me. they don't speak anymore. I don't know I just feel suffocated by it all. she also has a new gf. I wish I could tell her new gf to be careful, but I'm scared. in my community there's so much stigma around rape and homosexuality. I don't think I could ever safely publicly come out with my story as much as I want to. she completely changed my life. it's like I don't know how to be myself anymore and I feel like I'm going insane.

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.

Last year I was gang raped. I have an ear ringing called tinnitus that has not stopped since. I have nightmares. I flew with my mom to a wedding overseas. I was excited. She would be busy with her friends and cousin and I would get to spend time with my awesome second cousin who is two years older than me. After the rehearsal dinner we went out. It was fun because I was not legally able to drink there even though the age was lower than in my province, but they did not check ID’s. I did not drink much because it was not my thing and I had a boyfriend but I was able to go to some bars then a club attached to a hotel. So much fun up to when we met two soldiers in uniform who were cute and separated us from her friends because of our looks. My cousin is stunning beautiful. They had a private room at the club and several soldiers were there and two prostitutes also. Those prostitutes definitely hated us being there. I wanted to get out anyway and the cute ones that invited us acted like they understood and took us out of there. We stupidly let them take us to their hotel room where they totally dropped the cute romantic act and made us strip our clothes to music. They showed us a gun they had in a drawer. I was terrified. They made us lay on our stomachs bent over the bed side by side and had sex with us that way. They switched like we were interchangeable before finishing in us with no protection. We held hands. I was crying while my cousin was trying to be strong and cheer me up. We weren’t allowed to leave and our clothes were hidden. Before took our phones we had to text that we were staying at my cousin’s friend’s house. Then they called two other soldiers, one of them a huge tall dark guy with body builder muscles. He was the worst to me. They made us dance and then we had to use our mouths on the cute ones that had lured us there while the other two had sex with us. I vomited and my cousin cleaned it up but then it started again. They had cocaine and made us sniff it off their parts and sniffed it off us. Another one came and I think it was just those five during the night but they kept raping us and making us do things even when we would pass out. I would like to have been more unconscious but cocaine makes you so awake. I want to remember less and think about it all less. We showered many times. The big dark one peed on me and in my mouth the shower. He did it more than once like I was his toilet. The other men even had to tell him to chill out when he was making me scream liking his fingers and pushing them in my arse, but not when he made me crawl around like a dog using my hair as a leash. I remember one of them calling their friends to tell them to turn all their t.v.’s way up to hide the noise in our room. They watched sports news on the t.v. They had me and my cousin kiss each other and stuff. I could not act like it was a fun party like my cousin did sometimes and encouraged me to do. She tried to take some of their attention away from me over and over. I love her for it but they did not leave me alone. My chest is something they were obsessed with. They did not care that I was obviously distressed and freaking out or that in my country I was three years below the age of consent. There I was the minimum. We woke up in the morning on one the beds together with only the two soldiers sleeping on the floor. The black one was gone! They had sex with us again and another man who was much older and who they called SIR came in and had sex with both us but mostly me. They cheered him on and my head was pounding and I was crying and it seemed to last forever. Finally we got our clothes back but they took us for brunch wearing their normal clothes. They showed me pictures on their phones that made it look like I was having fun and warned us how bad it would be if we said anything different than we had a nice party. A nice party in hell! Before that I’d had sex with only my 1 boyfriend ever. One night of hell and now my number was seven!! We had to start getting ready for the wedding right away and I was exhausted. My cousin hid me and I took a nap in my dress, hair and makeup until the last minute. I cried in the ceremony but not for the wedding. I was so sore in my vagina, muscles, and brain that I got so drunk at the reception I barely remember any of it. Just part of being on the plane home. I told my mom the truth when I got back and she got all crazy, so did my dad, and they tried to call over there and the hotel and such but there was nothing the police would do. I saw my dad cry for the first time as I told the whole story. My boyfriend could not handle it and dumped me. I go to group and do therapy. I take a pill everyday and now benzo’s for break through anxiety. I try to hide my large chest under baggy clothes where before I used it for attention. STUPID! My cousin does not seem to have the trauma I do or the nightmares. In her country they are done with secondary school up to two years before us and are more treated like adults sooner. I said mean things to her once because of it. She forgave me but we talk much less since I asked if she has gang bangs all the time. I felt terrible because she even let them have anal sex with her to lure them away from me. I could tell it hurt her so much but at the time was just thinking about my own survival. My childhood is OVER but I do not feel like an adult. Her advice is -Don’t let it get you so down-. Like I have a choice in this!! She went to a therapist ONCE because her mom made the appointment and does not plan to go back. Her life did not really change!! She works reception at a tech company and models on the side and still goes to parties and clubs and dates. How??? It is unbelievable how attitudes toward something like this can be so different in different countries. I am a victim now and I usually feel like it. Definitely damaged. Everybody at my school knows why. I am THAT girl. My new more mature boyfriend is understanding but I feel like a sad little burden to him. I am hypersexual sometimes now and can’t help it. It is a coping mechanism that happens to some victims of sexual assault. I did not ask for it. I worry my boyfriend can’t trust me because of it. I had an older guy friend who’s been my neighbor for years take advantage of me after I told him the story of what happened at his house. We had sex and then he felt guilty for being turned on by my rape story. He admitted it and asked me to forgive him. The sex helped me calm the ear ringing for just short time periods so I did it with him more than once a day for a bit until my dad started to suspect something and talked to him. Since then I don’t trust myself. I want to marry my boyfriend in large part just to protect myself and show him I love him and am loyal even though I am not sure I can be. I worry I cannot love like a normal person. I worry I push him away being too needy and wanting to marry him so soon. I need him more than he needs me. Is that the way it will always be in relationships for rape victims??? I work hard at school not to ruin my future. It is so hard to focus. My ears ring constantly. Thank you for listening.

• Biography (including background): While growing up at home, I suffered physical and emotional abuse from my father, neglect from my mother (a cycle of abuse from my maternal grandparents), violence from my older sister, and had to care for my younger sisters. At the same time, I had a childhood hobby of reading specialized books, and I had a desire to pursue higher education and make the most of my educational opportunities to contribute to society, devoting all my free time to studying... However, at the age of 17, I reached my limit, my physical and mental health deteriorated, and I had eight chronic illnesses (10 types of medication), so I took a two-year break (I also dropped out of high school). After that, due to limited funds (using my own earnings), I applied to a university that I could apply to while still in prefecture name, and enrolled in university. While continuing my education, I left my hometown and, while undergoing treatment for my chronic illness, I actively volunteered and worked for non-profit organization (an NPO for people with Down syndrome).

I was assaulted by a man, who was an acquaintance, in my apartment. We had hooked up once before, and it had been quick but fine. Things started consensually, but at one point it began to hurt me and I asked him if we could stop. At that point, he pushed down on my upper back, high enough that my mouth was half pushed into the pillow. I froze, and couldn't move at all. I just waited for him to finish whatever it was he wanted to do. The aftermath was extremely confusing. I first thought that it was just a bad experience. But as the months went on, I realised it was playing on my mind too much to be dismissed as that. Six months after the assault, I sought some medical tests. It was a year after, amid a particular run of sexual assault stories in the media, that I contacted rape crisis centre to get help. I also reported to the Gardai several years after my assault, and while they handled it well they also warned that if I was to pursue an investigation that the process could be very exposing and I chose not to take it further. My assault took place only six months after I had come out as queer, and so it felt like much of what I had worked hard to accept about myself and to go through as part of coming out was impacted -- the freedom to be who I was and to enjoy my sexuality was taken away for a long time. My assault was not the first time nor the last time I experienced non-consensual behaviour, although was by far the most serious and impactful occurrence.

Im still trying to heal through all of my issues, I stay isolated and quiet and find it hard to make friends sometimes. my story started years ago as a lil boy my my older cousin always kept touching on me and laughed it off until he took me upstairs and told me how good it would feel to me. I later cried and told family in front of him he laughed and they laughed but at least it stopped . other cousins would tell what happened to me to there friends making it awkward to be around people. but with time people forgot. fast forward 3 or so years i'm nine at least I think ,and my older female cousin tells me im pretty I should stop being shy she would show me how to have sex and be a ladies man. well she did but it didn't end there her and a friend of hers set me up with a girl my age and watched me have sex a few times with her until I got old enough to stay home by myself . today I much older but very hyper sexual and long story short my past has caused a lot of my problems. it feels good to finally tell somebody.

sorry that this is super long😭😭😭 when I was younger I was best friends with this girl we met on the first day of kindergarten and were inseparable and when we were 7 she started touching me on the school bus and I told the school and instead of helping they put me and her in the school counselor's office and she showed us a video of keeping our hands to ourselves and not letting other people touch out bodies 3 weeks she raped me in her bedroom and I didn't know what to do so I just laid there and didn't speak I think it made it worse that she is a girl and its not typical for females to rape other females so I felt as no one would believe me so I stayed quiet because of what happened the first time after that stuff kept happening but then I got into the 5th grade and we didn't see each other because it was there first real year of COVID so it was all basically online and we were in different classes but then 6th grade started and I was back to seeing her every day and that was super hard and she started to do that stuff and it was really bad on my mental health then she decided to punch me in the face for no reason so I stopped talking to her I ended up admitting myself to a psych ward where I did end up getting help and was doing better and I went to my ex friends play performance and this friend was friends with the girl at the time and I still wanted to be his friend so I because friends with her again and told her that I stopped talking to her because my best friend told me to that night she raped me in my own bedroom after I let her borrow my clothes my shows by hairbrush my everything and she still decided to rape me and that hurt and again like the first time I sat there doing and saying nothing for some reason I couldn't no matter what no matter what I thought no matter what I said nothing I was frozen I always everyone talk about fight or flight and no one ever talks about freeze even tho its one of the most common ones every time she did something like that I would freeze I wouldn't talk I would barely move I just laid there helpless like God was gonna send someone to help me but he never did I was all alone I was like a helpless dog dying on the side of the road and I just let her do it I said no once and after she didn't stop I gave up I didn't know what do do anymore and I didn't wanna repeat myself for some reason so thus I didn't after that I stopped talking to her all together and in 8th grade after being out as transgender for about a year when kids would say stuff what I would correct them on my name she would stand up for me and I hated that I hated it so much it made me feel like I couldn't hate her for raping me and assaulting me because now shes standing up for me so if I hate her I would be a bad person even tho I know I am not a bad person for hating her because I have every right to because of what she did to me even if it was a long time anyways I think that's it sorry again that this is super long I don't know what others look like so I don't know if mines actually long or not compared to other peoples but if you read all of this thank you for reading my story and I hope all of you have an absolutely amazing 💗💗💗

Thank you for allowing me to have a platform to share my story. It’s not an easy task, I have rewritten this story over and over multiple times. Please note names and locations have been removed and replaced to protect the privacy of all involved. When I was 21, I was sexually assaulted by a man more than twice my age. At the time, my boyfriend of 5 years and I were headed across country. I was both in love and happy. July 3rd 2007, was a beautiful day weather wise which was good because we had planned a three hour drive that day to a small town on the west coast. As we had been travelling for a while, and I had spent a lot of time sitting and sleeping in the car I started having pain in my neck. My boyfriend and I decided to stop somewhere so I could get a massage. We came across a massage clinic and I got out and went into the building to check for availability. The man that was working there said 5 pm was available so I booked the appointment and left. My boyfriend dropped me back off at the clinic at 5 PM as scheduled. He did not come in with me as we decided he would come back and pick me up when I was done. It was a small building, there was a waiting area and only two other rooms; one was an office and the other was the massage room. The man, who I assumed owned the establishment, came out of the massage room. He told me he was just finishing up with a client and asked for me to fill out a form about my health history. I wrote about the neck pain I was experiencing and listed the medication I was prescribed. I included that when I was 12, I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. As I was finishing up the form the client before me had come out into the waiting area. Having been pleased with the treatment they were thanking the massage therapist. It was now my turn for a massage. A half an hour was all I had booked. When I got into the room, I noticed a drape was being used as the door. The man told me to undress and lie face down on the table. As he had instructed me to do I was laying on my stomach, that’s when he started between my legs and proceeded towards my private area. At first, it felt like his hands had slipped, that he simply forgot the anatomy of the figure. Then, when he inserted his finger inside my body, I felt my muscles tense and holding my breath I told myself not to make a sound. This became the beginning of my assault which lasted an hour and a half in total. I still struggle to write or share about this experience. 16 years later it’s still difficult for me to share where he touched, or how it felt. He told me I was damaged and that he was healing me. He touched me consistently, throughout the hour and a half, and as he touched me he told me that I had years of damage in my body because of the antidepressants I had been prescribed. He said he was healing me naturally; he told me he was removing the toxins out of my body but he was really sexually assaulting and emotionally abusing me. I was frozen and I could not speak. No words would come but I also thought in that moment that staying silent; it was the safest thing I could do. I had no one with me. My boyfriend was skateboarding at the local park, he was nowhere in sight. Laying on my stomach, I stared through the head hole at the ground, trying to keep mind on anything but this moment. After awhile he told me to flip over on my back and continued his assault. He massaged my breasts and despite my refusal he continued telling me how damaged I was. When he held my left hand in his own hand, that was when I began to cry. I couldn’t hold in the tears any more. When he held my hand with his and laced our fingers together, he took away that innocent act of love; I was never going to be okay again. I had only booked the massage for 30 minutes, so as time passed my boyfriend began wondering where I was and entered the building. The man was startled when he heard my boyfriend enter the building, he asked if I was expecting anyone but I still had no voice. The man left the room and I took the opportunity to get up off the table and get dressed. I heard the bell go off in the lobby as my boyfriend exited the building. The man came back into the massage room and saw that I was up and dressing myself. He left the drape open and watched me finish putting my clothes on, and then walked with me to the front desk for payment. I am no longer hiding that I am crying. Using my credit card, I pay for my assault, hoping that by paying by credit card I can trace this payment back to this horrible place. Once outside, knowing I was finally free and it was over, I ran to my boyfriend for safety. I told him to get into the vehicle and to drive away as fast as he could. I didn’t want the man to see our license plate and to know where we were from. I had provided an old address on the health form. My boyfriend began questioning me on why I was upset as we drove away. Out of frustration, confusion and anger an altercation soon developed as I frantically explained what happened in that room. Let me explain, the only thing that I learned, and really understand about all of this is there is no handbook to follow when you are sexually assaulted. At 21, my boyfriend and I, had no idea what to do. We were scared and upset. I really do understand that now. My boyfriend wanted to go to the police and he wanted to go back to yell at the man. He then looked at me and in that moment I saw his face begin to change. Once the loving look I received from my Highschool sweetheart was now replaced with something I still struggle to put into words. He no longer looked at me the same way he had since we were 16. He asked a simple question: why had I just laid there? The way he looked at me made me feel as if he was accusing me of letting it happen. I thought to myself: if my boyfriend someone I loved more than anyone was questioning me on why I lay there then would anyone else believe me? It was my word against this man’s. We drove away and as that small town was left behind us I said to myself: I will never tell anyone what happened because no one will ever believe me. In that moment I believed that if the person I loved could question me and not understand then no one would. My boyfriend and I never spoke of the assault again. The months and years that followed were by far the hardest times of my life. My boyfriend and I ended our relationship almost immediately. I couldn’t be touched without crying, the thought of the man’s hands had left an imprint on me. Just like the man had said, my boyfriend looked at me differently and it wasn’t his fault. It felt like I was hearing the man’s words still in my head that I was damaged and my boyfriend had now believed him. My boyfriend was the only person who knew about the assault and now was gone. I felt so very alone and was in a new city starting college. For the first five years I didn’t tell anyone. I used alcohol and substances to forget and numb the pain. I blocked the man out of my mind for as long as I could. The nightmares and flashbacks became a recurring reality and by the time I had reached 26 years I was very sick. I found myself in the hospital weighing only 84 pounds and needing help. It was at this time I decided to contact the police. I told myself that I would be ok with whatever the outcome was. Even if no one believed me I had done everything I could to try and forget. In order to strengthen my case I needed to contact my old boyfriend and ask him for help. Without hesitation he provided his statement to the police. To me, he apologized for what had happened years ago. Although thankful for his words I was still very upset. I was holding onto a lot of resentment towards him. At the police station I was sworn in and provided a video statement of my assault. Describing and explaining the assault on video was difficult. I had thought I could make it through without crying, but I didn’t, I broke down. The officer asked, what my boyfriend at the time thought about this and why had we never told the police? I found myself afraid thinking once again no one would believe me. I learned through law enforcement that there were 2 other females sexually assaulted by this man. Both provided statements five years prior. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough evidence until I came forward. The small tourist town in which this assault took place was aware of the rumours surrounding this man and what he had been doing. Now the police had similar fact evidence and that was enough for an arrest and a warrant was issued. Months after my first contact with the police, the man who had assaulted me was arrested and plead guilty to the charges. Victims service told me that the judge put on my case was hard on my attacker. His conditions were 6 months in jail, 3 years probation and the man has to register as a sex offender for 20 years. DNA would also be provided and he was no longer allowed to practice massage therapy. It’s been almost 16 years since the attack my life has completely changed from that day. I have had time to heal. I learned that with sexual assault the victim doesn’t always fight back. According to the Police officer most victims freeze because they are scared and don’t fight back because that’s the safest thing to do at the time. It’s not just fight or flight, there’s another option. I have also learned to understand that my boyfriends reaction was him trying to make sense of the moment. That despite saying the wrong thing he meant well and didn’t intentionally say it to hurt me. I know how much I was loved and I also know he believed me. I still can’t seem to forget the look on his face. His thoughts and the way he looked at me still run through my head 15 years later, no matter how much therapy one attends. This journey has definitely impacted my life in many different ways. I lost my best friend the person I cared for most in the world. I couldn’t attend school, I dropped my classes. I lost weight instantly and became sick. Childbirth as a survivor of sexual assault is devastating and makes you feel like your reliving the attack. But I’ve survived and will continue to survive. I have prevented others from being assaulted but doing this and that means so much to me. I also am thankful that my attacker went to prison. Even though I know this is a lifelong process to continue to move forward and to heal; I am stronger than ever. I don’t refer to myself as a victim but a survivor. The flashbacks are not as often and my last nightmare was over 5 years ago but the thought of the man touching me is still fresh in my mind. I’m still healing. Thank you for reading my story <3

I was four years old. I was lead into the woods by him. I still remember it was fall. The leaves crunched beneath my feet as we walked. The woods seemed to hush themselves to silence as we stopped by an old rusted out car. I was four years old. He told me to put his penis in my mouth. I was four years old. I trusted him. I still remember the taste. That putrid taste. That is all I can recall. Confusion and shame would follow me every day. Not a day goes by I do not think about it. I was 4 years old. I do not remember if it only happened one time or multiple times. My mind shut a lot of it out. I try to remember and all that surfaces is pain. Pieces of a puzzle I try to solve with many of the pieces missing . I was four years old.

Coercion, Abuse, and Feeling Alone in My Struggle I’ve been coerced into sex by someone who I thought was a mentor and a leader in human rights. He’s a researcher, a women’s rights defender, and runs a civil service organization. He approached me romantically and coerced me into sex, making me feel trapped and confused. We were in a relationship, but the whole time, I felt pressured and controlled. There were some times I was sick, intoxicated, or under his influence, and he used that to manipulate me. I initially resisted even his kiss,but it felt impossible to escape later days because of his repeated attempts and influences. Looking back, I now realize that what he did was wrong, but at the time, I didn’t understand it fully. What hurts the most is the disbelief and blame I’m facing from others, especially on social media. People don’t understand coercive control and rape, and it feels like no one believes me. He kept reaching out to me online, using me as a sex object, and I’m devastated by how he used me for his own purposes. I feel worthless, like I’ve lost my dignity and self-worth. The trauma, nightmares, and pain are overwhelming. I’m seeing a therapist almost every day to try to make sense of it, but it’s hard to cope when society and the connections he has make me feel so alone. I feel like no one understands what I went through. I don’t know if I can handle this trauma anymore. Advise me what I can do, or I am so tired of being hurt. … Please Name

I was 5 and my older cousin was 9. She was the favorite grandkid so when she began showing me “the game” I was too scared to be judged by my own family that I decided to take the pain. When people found out about it the case it was closed because she was a minor. It ended when I was 10 and she was 14, I deserve justice for my childhood being taken from me. The case has been looked down upon due to her being a minor and the fact that it was two girls but it caused major damage. I might not even be able to reproduce.. I am now in the process of learning about myself and what all i can do to be able to maybe have kids one day. I made it out though, little me would be so proud.

When I was 23, after having lost my father to cancer and moving into my first home as a single parent, I was "sexually assaulted" by my uncle who was now one of my neighbours. It was what was possibly deemed a harmless move by him, a drunken misunderstanding where he accidentally but forcefully stuck his tongue in my mouth while consoling me on my loss. The weight of him pressing me into the sofa of my new home. My new place of safety. He was a large man with a wheelbarrow stomach and a stench of unwashed flesh that lingers in the spaces long after he has passed through them. He never spoke a word I could ever understand because his native dialect rested somewhere between a brogue and the sound of someone clearing their throat. I always politely, on account of my aunt, nodded in agreement whenever he spoke to me. I pushed him away and apologetically resisted his advances so as not to offend him. It never occured to me to make a scene, others might have demonstrated greater revolt but I had just left an abusive relationship with the father of my child, a man who was given to dangling phlegm from his mouth over my face while pinning my arms down as a means of foreplay. Being sexually compromised was something that I had long accepted as normal. According to my mother I deserved it, people don't do things to other people unless they deserve it. He was just trying to be nice to me after all. I also learned quickly that if you did happen to discuss things with anyone that they had ways of silencing you. My new neighbours were informed of my single parent status and it's always better to keep girls like me at arms length. I thought I had been finally set free from an abusive relationship only to find myself thrust into a dynamic that set the stage for a lifetime of fear and resprisals from any man that wanted to really. A couple of weeks later my late fathers friend, an elderly gentleman with a family of his own, repeated the experience. A man of standing in the community, he had called to offer his condolances and suggested he could help me find work through a local employment scheme to help me get back on my feet. Once again I found myself on the recieving end of a sexual embrace, ending with him forcing his tongue into my mouth. I didn't get that job, in fact I spent the next twenty years resisting poverty and doing my best under the same kind of unemployment schemes while always being rejected for paid labour. It was on one of these employment schemes where I became the subject of one partcular mans obsession. He was the same age as me although very shy and reserved, maybe because he suffered from a physical disability. He worked in a different office to me and we would see him skulking around outside the building I worked in and often, waiting outside at clock out time. He would casually greet me and join up with our group and continue to follow along with us. The others made fun of him but I felt bad about that and tried my best to be respectful. As our work progamme ended everyone naturally went their own ways but he never left and for twenty years he remained, insisting he was just a friend despite my objections that I had no desire to be with anyone. Most people automatically assume that he was my partner now but in all the years I had known him, I remained single and celibate. I had never been able to consider being in relationship with another man. I never had the freedom to be even if I wanted to. My mother would tell people he was my partner and as it happened, he was very effective at "keeping me out of trouble". Instead, I turned to other women for relationship and in the hope that he, and others, might get the message and leave me alone. It was many years before I found the videos he had been taking of me on his phone when I wasn't looking. It turned out he was a prolific client of escort services too and apparently, acording to the man who's child I bore and raised by myself this meant that I was a paid whore also. It wasn't until I sought help that I learned how I was being portrayed. The first counsellor I went to called me a liar when I told her that my childs father had physically abused me. For three months I sat unable to speak in a psychologist office, being accused of things I had previously been unable to imagine. I lost the ability to verbalise. My nervous system shut down. My body would shake uncontrollably. I tried to kill myself but I didn't know how. I stopped trusting people, least of all the services you would nomally turn to for help. The gaurds, my gp, even the voluntary agencies in places of statutory ones. For years after I struggled to come to terms with this abuse and I was alone through all of it. I did everything I could to drag myself out of that place, yoga, meditation, exercise but none of it made much difference because I could never wipe away the pain on the inside. One day I listened to a story on the radio and in response penned a letter to a rape crisis center. I never considered what I had been through as sexual abuse so I never considered discussing it with anybody. I began to write. I met with a counsellor and handed her my letter. As she spoke the words of my story I heard someone else speaking but it didn't sound like me. I didn't feel ashamed, I felt brave. I didn't feel worthless, I looked at the woman in the chair in front of me and felt like her, like I had value and that my words had meaning. I didn't feel stupid or retarded, I saw a beautiful articulate woman, not a destitute worthless prostitute. After years of being silenced I finally heard the sound of my own voice. I think I slept for two days after that. My own voice has grown stonger every day since. It's kinder and more understanding, more loving and gentle toward myself. I no longer live with the same level of fear as before. The guilt and shame I was used to feeling and that others used to inflict upon me no longer controls me. Something was given back to me that was lost and now no one can ever take it away again. I'm still working on healing myself but I enjoy life in moments and even have goals again. I'm glad that this place can give people a voice too and that those who read these words might hear themselves speaking and will know that they are not alone.

when i was 10 there was this older boy i really liked and we used to hang out in his basement and play video games and i decided i wanted to be his girlfriend. i tried to flirt with him and told him i liked him and he would always laugh and change the subject but i had hope. then one time he asked to kiss me and i was elated and agreed. so we kissed. and this happened a few times before he said he wanted to touch my chest and i wasn't sure about it but i wanted him to like me so i agreed. then he wanted to see me naked. and i told him that in church they told us our bodies were sacred we weren't supposed to show those parts to each other, and he told me that it was okay because we liked each other and so i agreed, because he said he liked me, and i really wanted him to like me. then he wanted me to touch him. i told him that didn't seem right but he was quick to reassure me that we liked each other and maybe if i made him feel good he might date me. so i agreed. i still came over every week, and every week he wanted just a little bit more. every week i would get closer to a firm no but then he would tell me if i just did this one more thing he would date me and tell everyone i was his girlfriend. after a few months we got to the point where he wanted 'the real deal' and that was when i told him i didn't want to. that it didn't feel good when he touched me and i didn't want to do any of it any more. and he said that he had been ready to tell everyone i was his girlfriend that i only had to prove myself once more and i told him i that i would kiss him but i wouldn't do anything else. and he kept saying that same thing and i kept repeating myself, but everytime he repeated himself he got a little angrier and everytime i repeated myself i got a little nervouser. until finally i didn't respond and he took that as yes. he calmed down a little and told me it would be worth it. and i told myself it was just once. then it would be over and i'd never have to do it again and finally i could be his girlfriend. when it started to hurt i said i changed my mind and tried to push him away and he told me that the pain was normal and i needed to just calm down. but he had me pinned and i started to panic. i didn't care about being his girlfriend anymore i just wanted him off of me. i kept trying to squirm away from him and started to cry but he told me to shut up that it was almost over anyways. so i closed my eyes as tight as i could and tried to imagine i was anywhere bu there. it didn't work. when he finally let me go i just sat there. he asked if i was okay, if i was crying because it had hurt. i told him i never wanted to do that again and he laughed at me. told me i wouldve made a bad girlfriend anyway. it took me eight years to realise this was rape. because i'd heard about rape in the news and on tv and it was always some woman screaming no or stop and it was always so violent and what he did never checked those boxes in my mind. i never said the word no. i said i don't want to. i never said the word stop. i said please don't. i didn't scream. i cried. i didn't bleed. i just ached. i was 10. i didn't understand that just because you say something quieter than another person doesn't mean you didn't say the same thing. my approach was quieter because i didn't know how to be loud with him. and to my little prepubescent, child's mind, that meant what he did wasn't rape. so but it was. and here i am 8 years later and i wish someone wouldve told me that rape is rape, no matter how quiet your no's or how soft your stop's. because maybe then i wouldn't have spent all my teen years thinking of myself as dirty and disgusting and perverted. but who thinks to define rape to a 10 year old girl. no-one should have to define rape to a 10 year old girl. i wish i could blame the adults in my life, because they're still here for me to yell and scream and cry at. but i can't blame them for not trying to stop what they couldn't imagine would happen. he liked my profile on a dating site a few months back. i messaged him and said i used to know him when we were kids. he asked if we went to school together, because he didn't remember me. i've spent 8 years hating myself for what he did to me, 8 years hurting over what he he stole from me and i'm still hating myself and i'm still hurting and he doesn't even remember. i stared at his reply again and again. i kept going back and thinking of all the things i wanted to say to him. for weeks i kept staring at that message, until i realised that even now i don't have it in me to be loud at him. so i deleted my profile. deleted all my profiles, actually. disapeared from social media all together. because i keep catching myself staring at his instagram and facebook and snapchat. and i still feel so quiet and small next to him even now. so i'm doing this instead. because i know he'll never read it. so i can say all the things i want, i can be loud and no-one has to know it's me but me. i can say you shouldve stopped. you manipulated me for months to get what you wanted and when i finally saw through your crap you took what i wouldn't give you anyways. when i see your picture it makes me sick. but not because i hate you. but because the sight of you, looking so much like you did then, reminds me of how small and weak and insignificant i was next to you. i was just a lonely little girl who wanted a cute boy to like her and you took a piece of my soul i will never get back. i can cry in front of this computer screen and ask all the questions you'll never answer. why didn't you stop. why did you laugh at me when i was crying on the ground. why did you hurt me. why me. i know i wasn't the only girl who liked you. and i would never wish any of this on anyone else but i still wonder why me. did i look weak. like someone who wouldn't fight back. was it because you didn't like me. was i too annoying. did you think maybe if i hurt her she'll leave me alone. i will never understand why you did what you did. but at least now i've told someone. i've put it all out there in words which is more than i've ever done. i've told bits and pieces to close friends or therapists, but never everything. this is everything. and as much as it hurt me to write this, i feel just a little lighter, a little louder.

when i was 17 years old, i was dating a man who forced me to have sex regularly. at the time, i did not think it was possible that this was rape. he was my bf, how could that be possible. with time he became more aggressive and forceful. if i complained he would reassure me “i’ll be quick”. several times a week i would silently sob as i waited to be done. this process made me believe the only thing i was useful for was my body, which no longer felt like my own. a few months after ending things with him, i was drugged at a party and woke up with no pants on and an unfamiliar man in my bed. the last thing i remember was telling my roommate this man was making me uncomfortable. it took me a very long time to accept that i will never know what happened that night, to stop blaming myself, and to feel comfortable in my own body again. the self-blame is the worst thing about trying to heal. i constantly think “well if i had just fought back” or “maybe if i recognized it was rape in the moment” or “maybe if i hadn’t drank i wouldn’t have been drugged” or “maybe if i wasn’t so nice he wouldn’t have taken it as flirting”. but that’s the thing: the maybe if’s are doing nothing for me. i am alive on the other side of the violence i experienced. learning to silence the voice of self-doubt and self-blame has allowed me to reclaim my body and my life. i will never get to go back to before this happened but i am finding a way to survive with that fact.

It's kind of hard to label what happened to me because of the circumstances surrounding it, i've invalidated myself a lot, gaslit myself, thought that my experience wasn't valid because people had it worse. I have talked a lot to friends, fellow survivors and they all say it was pretty much sexual assault/abuse (harassment of course too) but it's still different because it was all online, we skyped, called, and texted every day but it was still online and she lives in another country so i could never report what happened. My name is survivor and I am a survivor of abuse. I met Name A in 2016 but only became close to her in 2017, while i had heard of Name B many times in 2016 and 2017, i only became friends with Name B in 2018. Many people said she was bad news and i was skeptical of her at first but like many people I was sucked into a cycle for many years with no way out. When I first met Name B I was 16 and she was 20, Name A was 19. Prior to meeting them, I was so much different, I was confident and passionate, I had this determination and drive but as soon as I met Name B I slowly became her lap dog. I am slowly becoming the girl I was before, I am kinder now that I am out of that “friendship”, more empathetic and compassionate, I am a better person now. What Name B did was she took advantage of a vulnerable teenager, groomed her and stripped her of her self esteem and confidence until she was no longer her own person, but Name B’s object. I was the one that met Name B first and introduced her to Name A. The three of us were inseparable once upon a time, we would spend pretty much all day every day together and back then, we were perfect. However, over time, things started to go downhill, around this time last year in fact, things started to happen that I thought nothing of at first, I thought everything that happened was because I was a terrible person and an even worse friend but now, I can see that what happened was disgusting and should never have happened. Due to me being a minor and Name B being an adult, there was a huge power imbalance. We had our own friend group, it was small and none of us ventured outside of our little bubble, the only people we interacted with was eachother. Honestly the friend group dynamic we had was toxic now that I am looking back at it, there was drama every single day, each day someone had something or someone to complain about and it was draining. Especially after the November 2020 incident, Name B and Name A constantly talked shit about me behind my back, calling me annoying and boring. My friendship with them got dependent, i was dependent on them for happiness and life seemed to revolve around them, my friendships with them were all about them and their ships. I never felt i could talk about me, i did a few times but not nearly as much as they talked about themselves. They came to me and to eachother for everything, I had to talk Name B off the ledge a few times. I got dependent to the point that if i didn’t talk to them for a few days things would feel weird, i felt bad for it. They spent all day roleplaying their ships and no one could talk to them when they were or else they would get mad. Name B would be controlling, she told me not to cut my hair a certain way and one time Name A and Name B mentioned in a call they didn’t like one of the clothes that i got as a present, i ended up throwing it in the bin. Name B would judge my hair, she said i needed to get it touched up as my roots were showing and she hated that. There were times where Name A and Name B would exclude me in calls and conversations, a lot of the time the calls were all about their ocs and ships. I was afraid of talking to Name B about things at one point, she snapped at people a lot (even her own girlfriend) and while she may have said sorry sometimes, she still snaps and is rude. You can’t call her out on anything or she gets upset I wasn’t allowed to have a different opinion and when she started to move away from the toxicity and form my own opinions she got angry. She goes against everything that I believe in and i am ashamed that i supported and was friends with a person like her and her girlfriend, who has the same views. I turned 18 in September of 2019, Name B didn’t do too much to me that i remember prior to me being 18 but right after i turned 18, she developed feelings for me, despite our significant age gap and despite her knowing me at such a young age. In February 2020, she confessed her feelings to me, I wasn’t doing very well mentally so I just shut down and had what you could call an anxiety attack, I ended up not being able to say either yes or no to whether I reciprocated and Name B got upset, she acted as if I had betrayed her and rejected her. Fast forward to July 2020, I was still 18 at this time and Name B was 22. The two of us were just messing around in the chat box, roasting eachother back and forth. Name B would roast me really hard and often, some could say our friendship was based on her roasting me,, a lot of the time her roasts were personal, like she would call me lame or stuff like that. I would roast back but only to be told my roasts were not as good as hers. I then somehow let it slip that I do sexual activities, yeah not a big deal so many people have done it but Name B started to fixate on it and would ask me all sorts of questions and i ended up telling her i had a s** t** and she freaked out and asked for photos of it, she kept begging and i sent her one on Facebook, only to unsend it a second later so she couldn’t save it but then she started yelling, saying “fuck, bitch send it again or i will call you,” and then we called and i had to show her the s** t**. I remember her asking me to turn it on but i never used it on myself. A few days later i found out that Name A was on a skype call with her as we were calling on Facebook. Since then, Name A and Name B proceeded to tell everyone about my sex life and everyone except for a few people would laugh at me for it. I was humiliated, they weaponised sex to make me feel and look bad. It was brought up so many times during skype calls, even when i told them not to talk about it. This was one of the first instances of grooming and what i first called sexual harassment but after talking to many people about it including survivors, I realised It crossed the line between harassment and assault, numerous survivors can agree and vouch me on that. There was a call at one point between myself, Name A, Name B and Name C, I am not sure how it came about but Name B started to ask me these really graphic sexual questions. I tried to tell her “maybe we shouldn’t talk about this,” because we were in a call with others and I was just generally uncomfortable but she told me that it was “natural,” and “nothing to be ashamed of,” I ended up being coerced into answering these questions and she laughed at me. In August 2020 (two weeks after my dog passed away may i add, i was already in a bad state) Name B suddenly out of nowhere admitted she still had feelings for me and asked me to date her after we flirted with eachother for ten minutes. We agreed to date and we texted with eachother for an hour before there was radio silence from her. Not long after that, Name B suddenly messages me saying she is still in love with Name A, who she was in love with for years before Name A rejected her months prior to Name B admitting her feelings for me. I feel as if I was just the second choice, the rebound, the throw away. Name B was also the first person who had ever shown interest in me romantically so it hurt that this was my first experience in love. I was confused at first when i received these messages, it took a while for me to process what was going on. As mentioned in one of the screenshots, everyone thought Name A was straight, that was the reason Name B was rejected in the first place. I had no idea Name A felt this way, so it was a big shock for me as she never displayed any interest in women prior. I messaged a friend of mine who knew that I was dating Name B and i vented to her. However, Name B hacked my account without my consent, looked through my messages and saw me venting. The hacking would turn out to be something Name B did often and each time she justified it by blaming it on me. In this conversation, there was a lot of guilt tripping too and the way Name B would constantly use a childish nickname for me (in general) seems condescending and almost like talking to a child I was then painted in a bad light and I was not allowed to have feelings about being broken up with for someone else, my feelings were invalidated, i looked like the bad guy and eventually i believed i was the bad guy. Everything seemed to be fine for a while until i got into a skype call and an argument broke out, i had an anxiety attack in the call with Name C, Name B and Name A and they all left me to go into a private skype call. Name B took a photo of the private skype call the three entered into and posted it in a facebook story, the call was called “fuck i hated that call,” and i saw it but i never said anything. Fast forward to November 2020, this is when i started to question my sexuality as i originally identified as bisexual but it didn’t feel right for some reason so i did what anyone would do, i consulted a friend, that friend was Name A. I didn’t tell her explicitly that i was questioning my sexuality but i was hoping by talking to her and asking her about sexual orientation that i would be able to figure things out about myself, i thought she would have understood as she had gone through her own struggles. We were in a call with Name B but she had left the room or something but she was still present. I believe she must have heard us having a private conversation and the entire thing was misinterpreted. Name B and Name A thought i was just jealous of Name A and trying to make Name A feel bad but i wasn’t, i was questioning my sexuality and i thought that talking to Name A would help me. I thought she would understand. Late that night, i got a random message from Name B saying that Name A had gone to bed and that she wanted to talk to me. It was very late at night. Name B started to ask me questions about whether i had feelings for her or not. I was very confused. I said no a few times but Name B said that she wasn’t sure how feelings can go away that quickly, i then replied that perhaps i had pushed them down. She then asked whether i would be in a relationship with her behind Name A’s back. I was uncomfortable but i didn’t know what to do and i believed Name A was asleep. Earlier that day, Name B said that she was sad that Name A won’t have skype sex with her. I panicked and said there was something she couldn’t get, it was not an offer, i was making a statement and i admit i made the situation worse, i wasn’t sure if she was serious or not either. I said things that may have made things worse, things I never should have or would have said so maybe it was partially my fault but She then asked if i was offering her phone sex, i tried to say that it would hurt Name A and it would be wrong but she kept going on about it and Name B said she’d be okay with it. She then said she loved Name A and I told her that she needed to stay with her. I had a hard time sleeping that night, i was shaky, anxious and crying, i even tried to message someone about it. I did not tell Name A because i thought she was asleep. I have a problem with not being able to tell people no. She also asked if I fantasise about her when I read smut, I said no because that’s disturbing. I thought she still had feelings for me and had posted things earlier that day that made it sound as if she still had feelings for someone and i responded the way i did as i thought that she had feelings for me and i was afraid to hurt Name B because last time i rejected her, she was really hurt and i didn’t want to hurt her again like i did the other time The next day, i found out that it was all a test to not only see if i still had feelings for Name B but if i would seduce Name B and get into skype sex with her or send her something. I also found out that Name A was not asleep after all but she was awake, watching the entire conversation. I tried to defend myself but i was made to be the villain, told i had failed again and i felt dirty and disgusting. She did more emotional abuse but I won't get further into that. I am also pretty sure i remember her showing me porn on one of those "watch with friends" websites and i was a minor.

This is the first time I am really telling my story and what happened to me. I was 6 years old and my abuser was 2 years older than me and briefly in the same Organization Group as me. It started off normal, we would hang out, play video games, play Barbie’s, etc. eventually though, and I’m not exactly sure when, she started to talk to me and coerce me into many different sexual activities. It went on for nearly 2 years and there were times when she would call and ask my mom if I could come over because she knew my mom wouldn’t say no. Then she would abuse me for most of the stay. She would assure me that my parents would be furious if they knew (I knew they would be) so I never told anyone. I just wanted this person who I perceived as cool to like me so I kept going along with whatever she said. I am now almost 30 years old and am speaking about this for the first time. I have struggled so much with whether or not I was a victim, if it was just normal curiosity, if anyone would even take it seriously or if it would be shrugged off as “kids being kids”. It has caused me so much pain in my life, but I am trying to do the work to process and let go of the guilt

it still hurts. sometimes i feel like i am too harsh on myself. i only spoke up about waht happened when many years have passed. i knew i wasnt comfortable with what happened but i could expressed it, i kept it deep down and try to supress it from my mind. when i finally spoke up a long time have happened, i am hard on me because i knew it could have get better sooner, i am hard on myself because sometimes i feel like i am making a big deal out of something small. i try to remind myself that i am strong, that i am caring and this shall pass too.

I’m 23, and my childhood trauma has resurfaced intensely as I near the end of college (Bachelor’s in Geography), affecting me more than I expected. The past year and start of this one have been rough—I couldn’t balance personal issues, work, and school, so I fell behind on some courses. Now, I’m watching all my friends graduate while I’m still stuck here for two more years to finish my degree. My job contract ended in December 2024, and I haven’t found another job or scholarship since. Things got worse in January/February when some family members returned, including the cousin who abused me. He acted like nothing happened. The abuse started after my dad died when I was 7 (he was 17). My mom, younger sister (3 at the time), and I moved in with my grandparents, and my cousins stayed there while their parents worked. The abuse lasted until I was 12, with breaks. When I was 10, I tried to get my grandmother to find out (my mom was away dealing with my dad’s death). Instead of supporting me, she blamed me, saying I “offered myself” because I “acted gay.” She slapped me, forced me to shower, and comforted *him*. She never told anyone. Later, he tried abusing my sister (then 5), so I made a deal to let him abuse me again—this time more violently—to keep her safe. It only stopped when his mom moved away. The last incident was at 15, at my great-grandfather’s birthday. The most traumatic event happened at 17, when a drunk, older man (around 50, 6’3”) assaulted me in a public restroom. I froze, terrified he’d hurt me. Now, losing my job, academic delays, and reading books like *A Little Life* and *Jude the Obscure* (which mirror themes of abuse and academic obsession) have dragged all this back. I’ve tied my self-worth to being “successful” "smart" because trauma stripped everything else away. I was a straight-A student in high school (technical IT program, 4 years), did research projects, and got into a Communication degree before the pandemic. I dropped out despite a 97% average, then switched to Geography (current GPA: 79). I want to pursue research abroad, maybe a master’s/PhD in Europe (learning French, Spanish, German), but I doubt myself. If I’m not “smart,” who am I? I’ve never dated or had sex (no desire after the abuse). I’ve never even kissed someone I genuinely liked. It feels like the only choice I have left. People rarely show interest unless they’re drunk at parties. I’m 6’1”, dark hair/eyes, dress decently—not hideous, but maybe that’s cope. My grandmother (who knew about the abuse) had a heart attack recently, and I’ve had to care for her. She says she loves me like a son, but I resent her. Therapy hasn’t helped much—it’s slow, and they want me to “forgive” and tell my mom/sister. I can’t. I’m lost. Disillusioned with life, academia, my future, and relationships. What do I do after college? I want to focus on myself, but my mind won’t let me. Any advice, tips, or shared experiences would mean the world. I’m exhausted.