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At the time, my sister and I were bathing with a man my mother had described as "the man who would become my father." My sister was probably only about three years old, so I don't think she remembers it, but the man made my sister wash his genitals. I suddenly remembered it recently, and I'm tormented by the thought that it might have been sexual abuse, and blaming myself for not protecting my sister. I want to disappear.

When that person tried to kill me, no human tried to save me. Only my cat, then 1-year-old, warmed my body which was going to be cold, losing 1 liter of blood. My mother told me "you choose who you marry" and went on to complain about my father, who was also abusive. I told her "You choose him". (I didn't victimize anyone except my cat, unlike my mother) Why I as a woman and women in East Asia are taken so lightly?

Living in Fear of My Perpetrator Part1 In Date, I joined S Company as a temporary employee. In Month, Year, my supervisor, A, requested my LINE contact information, which I provided, thinking it necessary for work. From Month, Year, A began sending me messages unrelated to work, asking questions like, “What do you do when you don’t have a boyfriend?” and expressing a desire to visit my home. On Date, A called me saying, “Let’s get closer in private.” At a company farewell party, I drank only one drink due to my alcohol allergy. Afterward, A invited me to a manga café, where he kissed me and asked to go to my house or a hotel, which I refused. Upon arrival at the café, A embraced and kissed me, groping me under my bra and over my skirt. On Date, while working with Supervisor B, a new employee, D, tearfully said she couldn’t continue. A suggested that if D left, I might need to stay. That evening, while working late, A forcibly hugged and deep-kissed me, groped me under my clothes, and inserted his fingers into my vagina. I had no prior sexual experience due to past sexual abuse, and A exploited my vulnerable employment situation to coerce me into sexual acts, making it my first encounter. In the company car, A undressed and assaulted me, demanding I verbally consent to intercourse without a condom. Afterward, A threatened me, saying, “I value my job and family and don’t want to be in a position to pay damages, so keep quiet.” I couldn’t go to the police immediately, feeling ashamed and blaming myself. In Japan, victims often face blame, making it hard to seek help. I was overwhelmed with tears and suicidal thoughts. I left the company in Month, Year, but A continued to suggest we date, falsely claiming our relationship was an affair, despite me being physically a virgin. I never dated, received gifts, or had any personal connection with A, yet he used the concept of an affair to threaten me. Cultural Context in Japan Japan is perceived as a developed country, but its legal system regarding sexual crimes is inadequate. Women’s status remains low, with seniority-based systems and male-dominated workplaces prevalent. Victims of sexual crimes and harassment rarely speak out, often facing blame. This social backdrop made it difficult for me to receive adequate support after my ordeal. I have faced secondary victimization many times and have not been able to receive proper support within Japan. I am isolated and seeking objective advice and support from the international community. I am sharing my story through ChatGPT to reach out for help. My story continues, and I will post it in parts.

It gets better. It might never go away, but it gets better. His memory, grip on me gets looser and looser every passing day. It gets better. Little by little, it gets better. When it happened, I couldn’t imagine the life after. That I will always be tormented by him. But. It got better. It’s still there, but. There is less of it now

• Brief biography (upbringing, etc.): While living at home, I suffered physical and mental abuse from my father, neglect from my mother (a continuation of the abuse from my maternal grandparents), violence from my older sister, and had to care for my younger sisters. On the other hand, from a young age, I enjoyed reading academic books, and I had a strong desire to receive higher education and contribute to society by making the most of the educational environment available to me, so I spent all my free time studying... However, at the age of 17, I reached my limit, and my physical and mental health deteriorated, resulting in eight chronic illnesses (taking 10 different medications), and I spent two years resting. (I also dropped out of high school ) Afterwards, because my funds were limited (I earned them myself), I took the entrance exam for a university that I could take while living in Prefecture Name , and I enrolled in University . Along with enrolling in university, Leaving my hometown , and while receiving treatment for my chronic illnesses, I energetically engaged in volunteer work and activities with NPO organizations (NPO organizations for people with Down syndrome).

Seeking Justice and Support After Sexual Assault and Harassment in Japan I am a woman living in Japan, currently facing a severe situation. I experienced sexual assault in Japan, resulting in PTSD and depression. In Japanese culture, it is difficult for victims to raise their voices, and my suffering is often ignored in society. This has left me feeling isolated and deeply distressed. While studying in Canada, I was able to live safely without experiencing racial discrimination, male chauvinism, patriarchal attitudes, or misogyny. However, after returning to Japan, I faced power harassment, sexual harassment, and moral harassment at work, which has further exacerbated my mental distress. Moreover, my employer provided my address to the perpetrator without my consent, which has severely threatened my safety. The perpetrator's lawyer also obtained my personal information from the ward office without following proper procedures and used it without my permission. This has been an incredibly terrifying experience, making me feel constantly vulnerable and unsafe. Additionally, since the perpetrator was not prosecuted, the National Police Agency rejected my application for victim compensation, leaving me unable to cover my medical expenses and facing significant financial difficulties. This has added a layer of hopelessness to my already overwhelming situation. I also consulted the police, but they told me to call them only if the perpetrator showed up at my house, leaving me without support. In Japan, owning weapons for self-defense is prohibited by law, making self-protection extremely difficult. This lack of protection leaves me feeling powerless and exposed to further harm. Although Japan is often considered a developed country, the reality is different from what many people around the world believe. Outdated values from the Showa era still persist, and the legal framework for addressing sexual crimes is inadequate. This systemic failure compounds my sense of injustice and helplessness. Japan's welfare services have their limitations. In the type B continuous employment support system, I can only earn about 650 yen per day. Moreover, the facility's regulations prohibit part-time work, making it difficult to improve my financial situation. I strongly wish to lead an independent life, but the current circumstances make it incredibly challenging. I also have a lawyer, but the fear and anxiety caused by the perpetrator do not go away. Every day is a struggle, filled with anxiety and dread. In Japan, enduring hardship and suffering in silence are often considered virtues, making it difficult for victims to speak out. This cultural expectation to suffer quietly adds to my emotional burden and isolation. Therefore, I sincerely hope to receive objective advice on my situation. I have sought help through Chat GPT to articulate my situation clearly and seek support from a global audience. I am desperately seeking support from people overseas. Any form of assistance would be greatly appreciated. Please, hear my voice.

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.

When I was in elementary school, I was sexually abused by a female classmate. Both the abuser and I were women. It was something so trivial, and she threatened to tell the teacher. So I thought, "It's my fault." She sucked and bit my tongue. It hurt, and I was scared my tongue might fall off. She made me lick her genitals. I still remember her face and voice. I have never told anyone about this. I don't have any trauma that interferes with my daily life. My memories of that time are vague. But even now, sometimes I remember the feeling of pubic hair in my mouth and the feeling of her tongue entering my mouth. I get nervous when I use a multi-purpose restroom. I kept quiet for over 10 years, but I can't bear this alone anymore. I searched the internet to see if there was anyone who had a similar experience. But I was shocked that I couldn't find anyone. I want to tell anyone who has had a similar experience that they are not alone. I am one of them. You are not alone. I hope this reaches anyone who has suffered the same kind of abuse as me.

I live in Japan. I have been here for 7 years. I got married to a man that I felt I was in love with and had a daughter. I thought we were ok. We got divorced. He told me he stopped loving me when I wanted to hear about his day. He cheated on me with multiple women, getting very physical and most likely sexual. I am now alone with my daughter and have to work through all this on my own.

I feel anger toward my father. To me, my father is a monster. He's bound by patriarchy. He's been a very problematic person since I was a child. He was verbally and physically abusive toward my mother. He had a big attitude at home. He put on a good face. My father moved around a lot due to his job, but I ended up skipping school. I was sexually assaulted in high school and went to a mental health clinic, which led to him calling me weird. I loved creating, but he said that was weird too. My older sister was also a victim of my father, but she was always smiling, no matter what my father did to her. He was emotionally attached to her. He was like a lover or a mother to me. I was rebellious, so he ignored me. My father used me and sexually harassed me (he did the same to me), and even when I told others, I was only victimized. He sometimes spoke as if he were some kind of great person. He was abusive toward my mother. Weird women give birth to weird children. Women become weird when they get their period. I myself wondered why I created art, and at times considered getting tested for Asperger's syndrome. I quit, but... My older sister was exploited by another man, married him, and committed suicide on their wedding anniversary. As my father gets older, I feel nothing but anger toward him, and in Japan, there's a culture that makes it seem like we have to take care of our fathers. My father deserved it, and I want him to take his sins to the afterlife, but unfortunately, he has surprisingly not changed his behavioral principles. Perpetrators never change. My mother's cognitive function is declining slightly. I may be the one who survives in the end, even though I'm the only one who's completely devastated. I'm wondering whether I should be present at his end or go to his funeral, but at this stage, I don't have any plans to be present or go to the funeral. I also have some memory loss about where my father's hometown is. On exhausted nights, I sometimes wish I could die. My doctor recommended that I publish my creative work. I'm considering my interests (Western music, etc.), the fact that I've earned a certain number of credits from a correspondence university, and the fact that I took the Eiken exam a long time ago. Taking these factors into account, I'm pondering how I want to live the rest of my life. Part of me is social anxiety, so I'm a recluse. Is my life worth living? There is still no answer.

I was abused by my mother. She was harsh with me, hitting me, calling me stupid, and saying I shouldn't have been born, making me feel like I had no value in life. My mother wasn't just a scary person; she was kind to my younger brother Name , so she could be kind to him too. I met my current husband at University , got married, and had children. I was overwhelmed with anxiety that I might do the same things to my own children as my mother did, and I cried to my husband many times about it. My husband suggested I talk to a counselor, and I am now attending counseling sessions. I always thought that my mother's harshness was my fault, but now I realize that it's not entirely my fault, and talking to someone about the words and actions of my mother that I had kept hidden until now has lightened my burden. I hope that sharing this here will bring some comfort to others. Thank you for reading this.

I have suffered psychological abuse from my mother since I was little. Because of this, I have a habit of always thinking about what my mother thinks, and I feel like I have lost myself in trying to please her. I work at restaurants , but I am exhausted from trying not to make the atmosphere at work bad or being disliked, and even working is painful. I registered on Dating app because I wanted to escape from my mother, but I am only used and rejected, and I can't see any hope for the future.

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.

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.

My name is Survivor and when I was around age 3, my father started raping me. My mother helped hold me down. He was raping her, and she offered me up in her place. This continued until age 23, maybe 24, shortly before my wedding. By the time I was 6, he was raping other members of my family too. He’d come into my room at night and would throw my nightgown up into the headboard and then I’d have to wait my turn in fear and naked shame while others were raped. We had a large waterbed and I still remember the bed rolling up and down, up, and down, up, and down like on a boat. Once done, he wiped me down roughly with a red shop rag he used in cleaning the garage. It allowed him to keep the rag around to smell it and hold it close with no one questioning why it was so dirty with red stains. Most of the time, my dad was friendly and polite. But once he turned into the monster no one did anything to stop him. He never did these things when he was nice. Only when he was the monster. But he used the nice times to make it easier to attack. He would lull you into a false sense of safety and peace which really made you question your intuition and gut instincts that this was a bad man. This made it easier for him to sexually assault other children and adults. As I got older, my parents controlled the narrative of our lives, every aspect was carefully controlled. Like my mom knowing how to force miscarriages. The first abortion forced on me was when I was 15. I don’t know how I managed to make it to adulthood. I continue to remember more and more of the abuse by other family and church members. And other things my dad did within the church where he was pastor and then later deacon. But I still can’t talk about those memories. I think my dad felt like anything he did was inevitable, therefore, never his fault because he couldn’t control himself and when it happened God would forgive him, so it was all right. I know this because I overheard him grooming another family member to do the same things when he was 11 years old. Males in our family were groomed to be abusers too. I was groomed too. To always be the abused. Forced to keep silent, I learned quickly what happens to people who stand up to my dad. They die or get assaulted. As you can imagine, I had terrible anxiety growing up about being sexually assaulted and worked hard to fade into the background. I thought that might help. I thought it mattered what I wore, color of my hair, how much I weighed. It’s taken years and it will probably continue to take years to unlearn the lies I was taught. The worry made me constantly ill with one thing after another-- I got cancer when I was 32 and before that incapacitating vertigo and motion sickness. My parents met while working down in Texas for an independent fundamental Baptist preacher. Lester Roloff—an Independent Fundamental Baptist preacher who opened homes across the country for “troubled” children, teens, and adults. He liked to say he was saving dope fiends, whores, and hippies. I believe many of the children in the homes had already experienced abuse growing up and Lester Roloff homes should have been a safe place to heal. Instead, the kids met caretakers like my parents. My mom was in a charge of the 16 and older home and my dad flew around the country raising money and preaching the party line: men were akin to gods and women were lower than dirt—their only worth was in being a virgin and then baby factories once married. Very masochistic and minimizing of abuse of any kind, my parents ate up the evil rhetoric being preached from the pulpit My parents eventually took their brand of abuse from Lester Roloff’s out into the churches and communities where we lived-from Texas to Washington and eventually into Alaska. He disappeared in a plane over the waters near Anchorage in 2006. The events surrounding his disappearance were always very suspect but intense pressure from my family kept me quiet. Every day for almost three years straight, a family member called and reminded me talking about “our family issues” was causing generational sin to 4 generations. The pressure to keep quiet and do what my family told me to do was so significant I would have rather died than disappoint them. It wasn’t until I set out to heal from all the trauma, that I found out my dad faked his death. I had always been told since he was gone, there was nothing to be done for what I experienced growing up. But let me tell you, knowing he’s still out there perpetrating on other children and men and women really compelled me to come forward. I finally felt free to start talking. Getting past the pressure to stay silent was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Harder, even, than fighting cancer. I have spent many years in intensive CBT, EMDR and Polyvagal therapy learning how to process my wounds in a healthy way. I had pushed for criminal and civil suits against my perpetrators but the Texas statute of limitations don’t allow for justice to be done. So now, I spend my time now speaking on panels, podcasts, and community platforms about the intersections of trauma, faith, and advocacy. One of the biggest honors of my life has been sharing my story and advocating for Trey’s Law on the Texas Senate floor in Spring 2025. Forcing a sexual assault victim to keep quiet is what allowed people like my parents to continue their mistreatment for so many years. I will do what I can to make sure justice isn’t minimized by NDAs and Statute of Limitations. My efforts connect me with survivors, true crime audiences, mental health communities, and faith groups seeking to understand and confront abuse. I invest my time in mentoring survivors, creating resources for healing, and building digital tools to expand access to supportive materials. Because living a life whole and healthy is what I really want for me, all the victims and their families. We make our own opportunities to heal.

I had been friends with X for a little over a year. One day, we were drinking and smoking marijuana on the roof. My blood pressure dropped or rose, so X took me to lie down on his bed. X started touching my private parts. At some point, I regained "consciousness" (I don't know if it was seconds or minutes), got up, went to the bathroom, and said I needed to go home. The next day, X felt very bad, took a picture from the top of a building saying he wanted to kill himself, that I knew what people would think of him. I said it was okay, after all, as soon as I asked, X stopped. But after that, other sexual things happened, and I felt degraded, and I used any substance to numb the feelings, from marijuana to cocaine. I said the phrase "I don't feel comfortable with this, but it's okay (for you to continue what you're doing)" several times. I wanted X to choose to stop. In a way, I didn't want to compromise myself. I didn't want to be responsible for his death, and I thought I would lose his friendship. After a few weeks, I started rejecting X's advances, although I didn't do it verbally. The advances continued until I gave in again. X mocked me, accusing me of being PMSing. I started talking to some girls online, and eventually one decided we were dating, and although I thought it was too soon, since we had only known each other for two weeks, I kind of went along with it. Obviously, he touched me again, and that made me feel like a traitor, so I ended up telling him he couldn't touch me anymore. He got really upset, said it was unfair because he had met me first. He started to be more gentle, like rubbing my legs and treating me like his girlfriend, but I couldn't take it anymore, so I stopped seeing him and moved to another city. Some things make me think I may have been groomed. 1. He confessed to approaching me because of my self-harm (approaching me through vulnerability). 2. He confessed that he found it funny that at the beginning of our friendship, I didn't like hugging him, but I hugged him anyway (here he demonstrated that he understood my nonverbal cues and crossed the line anyway). 3. Strange things were normalized. For example, he would make me sit on his lap, as if it were something innocent, but if his girlfriend or a family member was nearby, he would push me off his lap. He treated his girlfriend as if she were excessively jealous and his own relatives as stupid and backward. I had never had a male friend, so I based my understanding on my friendships with girls, where sitting on laps was normal and not sexual, so even though I felt there was something strange, I felt "sexist" for thinking that way (yes, today I see how completely distorted my mind was...). 4. He brought me closer to his family and mine. In front of his family, he wouldn't touch me, but he would in front of mine (they thought I was dating him and just wouldn't admit it). Even with the closeness, he recommended lying to my parents, saying he didn't like the person I was with my friends, etc. He made me believe he was the only one who understood me. 5. He tried to kiss me the first time I went to his house (but I let it go because his girlfriend had "cheated" on him - they were on a break, but that's how he saw it...) 6. The situation with his girlfriend was kind of complicated. She was high and according to her, she didn't want to, but the guy had come prepared, so she did it. He said she should know what a guy would want going to a girl's house without her parents home. I think he noticed my look at him, because he quickly explained how that didn't apply to us, because our friendship was different, special. Well, could this be considered grooming? If not, would it still be, in some way, sexual abuse?

Part 2. I'm starting with the second because I can't go over the first yet because the first was reported. The first part started at the beginning of middle school and I was groomed by one of my male teachers from the very first week of middle school. It lasted all of middle school and led to more though can't go into it right now. I will hopefully later on be able to share that if I'm comfortable enough too. Anyways, part 2. It was my senior year of highschool and I went to this male teachers class. I had a weird feeling about him during open house but didn't think anything of it. The first week of school, he goes around asking what we want our nicknames to be if any. I said "just (my name)". He looks at me and says "ok, just (my name)" and smiles and looks at me and back down at his paper. I didn't understand and thought he was funny. He didn't do it to anyone else. Then, a few days later, we're having a fire drill and he looks at me from his desk in the back and tells me "We're going to have a fire drill. We'll just go out and stand and talk for a little." and shakes his head in the yes motion. I shake my head to match his. Another day, I'm walking in the hallway near his classroom and it's just me and him. I'm coming up like 3 stairs and he comes out of the hallway where his room is and we stare at each other. He goes into the middle of the bathrooms and turns the water fountain on, not even two seconds and turns around and stands there. He doesn't even have a water bottle with him, he has nothing in his hands. I stop and wait for him to come out and he doesn't. I continue to slowly walk because I don't want to be late to his class and as I go by him, he follows me with his eyes. Once I'm past him, he comes out between the bathrooms and follows me a short distance and then goes into a dark room with no one ever going in there and I turn and go to his room. I sit down and look at the clock and he doesn't come back for 5 minutes. I put my head down when he starts teaching and cry because I realize what he is but was what I had just seen really match the man who was teaching me? I couldn't trust myself. Throughout class he would look at me and shake his head while teaching us, always in the yes motion. I thought he was nice. During the beginning, he told me he wouldn't let me fail/fall. I was crying because I didn't want to fail his class. I wanted to try my best. He helped me several days throughout the year with the material and I appreciated it. There was a day that I was alone in his room with him before class started because I walked early to his class sometimes for a reason (I won't go into it). I was sitting against the wall like always and he got out a banana and he peeled it. He was back beside his desk and there was a wall he stood beside so if you looked in from any angle from the hallway, you wouldn't see him. He peels the banana back and looks at me and then the floor and then me again. He stares at me and takes one large bite into half the whole banana. I see this and so I turn and look at him and he stops chewing while staring at me. I then ask if I can finish a test because he would allow us to go into the hallway and he'd give us a clipboard and we could do it. He says "what?". So, I asked again and he said "no, I don't want you to miss this class.". Then, when class starts a girl a few rows up from me asks him and he says "yes" and hands her a clipboard and she goes out into the hallway. Again, I'm like 'did he tell me I couldn't but she can?" Then it went further and so I was alone after class with him finishing a test one day. He had a shirt and tie( and yes, he had everything else on)on which was unlike him and while I was doing the test there was a closet a few rows behind me. He goes and takes his shirt and tie off while I'm alone with him and I'm so scared he doesn't have a shirt on underneath and he has a small mirror on the side so I think he could watch me while he did it. He had a shirt underneath but not the point. Then he leaves the room. When he comes back in I look at him because I realized he wasn't wearing what he was earlier and I look at him. He looks at me and starts laughing at me. Then, the next day I'm in another class and a girl in that class told a friend out loud that my male teacher doesn't like changing in front of the students so he went next door to change. Again, I was like "that's not true! He did it when I was alone with him!" but couldn't trust what I had been through to tell anyone so I unfortunately let it go and held everything in.Then it goes further. I'm alone with him because I asked him if I could stay after school because I needed help with the material. He says yes and he only has 30 minutes. So it's just me and him again. I'm in my seat at the wall and he goes over what I'm struggling with. Then he asks if I need help with anything else, again saying he only has 30 minutes. I say "no, thank you though" and get up and start to walk to the door. He runs from the front of the classroom to the back, grabs his phone off his desk, and walks right up behind me and walks right behind me to the door. Once we get to the door, he stops and I feel his release and I keep walking. He watched me walk down the hallway and I felt ashamed and was trying to come up with an excuse to go back into his classroom. I wanted to go back to his class room. After I left school, I went out to eat with some family and all I thought about was "why didn't I go back into his room? What an idiot!". I honestly thought when he was behind me that we was going to rape me but he didn't, he let me go in that sense. Then there was prom and he told me one day before it during class, everyone's there and he looks at me and says "I'm not going to be at prom." He explains what he's doing with his family. Again, I shake my head in the yes motion like "Why do I need to know this?" He wasn't telling anyone, just me. Then we're practicing for graduation and walking through all the halls so the teachers can say congratulations and we get to my male teachers hallway and I'm on his side(we walked in 2 people a row and I was on his side). I start internally panicking and eventually I look up and he's smiling brightly and says "Congratulations" and I smile and say "thank you". When we get back to the room where we're practicing, the girl next to me who I didn't know at all told me there was a teacher who kept saying my name. I asked her who and she said she didn't know. I asked if it was my male teacher and she said yeah. I said something along the lines of "I'm not surprised.".Then we're going on a senior trip. He asks who all is going and I don't put my hand up because I'm talking to a friend. He finds out once we get there. I'm with my then boyfriend and he has the same class as the male teacher and wants to go say hi so we walk over and I say "I don't know if that's a good idea." The whole time being on edge and scared but not knowing why. Once we get over there I try to find an open bench and there are none! I stand uncomfortably in front of my male teacher I had all year as he's sitting on a bench next to another teacher who he worked with sometimes. They taught together sometimes. My boyfriend talks to them and I'm silent. My boyfriend wants my male teacher to sign something and so my male teacher digs in his bookbag and he gets out a pen and stares at me and says "I thought I couldn't find it." and holds the pen up a little and continues to stare at me. He also saw what I wrote for my boyfriend and looked between my then boyfriend and myself. It wasn't sexual but I didn't want him reading that and know I had a boyfriend. He didn't know until then. I don't understand what that was supposed to mean. Then the teacher beside him on the bench looks over between me and my male teacher and tells us we should go get in line because there were a lot of people. Then it's time to leave hours later and I'm standing with my then boyfriend. He points over to where my male teacher is and he's staring at me from way far in the distance. He notices that I notice and acts like he's on a phone call and walks away. I will never know if he actually had a call or not. Then somehow we're waiting for everyone in our group to come back so we can get on the buses. The male teacher is somehow across from me, my then boyfriend left to go see other students he knows, and my male teacher waves at me and is smiling brightly and says "hi". Then he says while rubbing his one arm with his other hand, "you look like your arms got some sun." very quietly so only I know because there are so many people around us but no one notices. I feel uncomfortable though try to tell him my sunscreen wasn't working and he looks at the ground with a straight face and nods his head. I get really uncomfortable so I turn and walk into a wall and turn around. He's staring at me from a distance! I stare back at him as I'm wearing a dress and holding a small bag and we stand like that for I don't know how long. We don't move. Some people eventually get in our way so I side step to my right and then he side steps to his left and we continue to stare at each other. I didn't want that time to end, I wanted to stay there forever. But at some point I started to dissociate because my body started floating into the sky as the sun was overhead us. At some point we stop and it's time to walk to the buses. A teacher I had a previous year tells me to not leave the group and asks if I'm ok to which I say "I'm ok, how about you?" because I didn't trust anyone enough to tell them what was going on. I couldn't process it or put it into words. I didn't know what it was. Then he says he has to use the restroom and to not leave the group. So I walk to the front of the group where one of the teachers who were on my bus ,who I didn't know, was talking to my male teacher! So I keep walking behind them and my male teacher is talking to another female student but she's trying to talk to him and he keeps his head down and just shakes his head... Like what he did to me earlier! But I don't think about this until I'm in therapy years later. Then he notices me and he falls back and puts his head down at the ground and turns his head to the left and stares into my eyes as we're walking. There's people behind us but no one notices anything somehow. I look over to my left and smile out of being uncomfortable and he goes back up next to the teacher on my bus. Then we get on the bus and the male teachers bus is next to my bus. I'm sitting at the window and I see my male teacher get on his bus and he sits at the window seat opposite of mine so we're next to each other even though on different buses. We stare at each other and then he gets his phone out and puts his head down. On the way back I try to tell my then boyfriend why I was scared during the trip but I can't describe or tell him. I don't know how or what to say. Once we get back to the school, everyone's getting off the bus and my male teacher gets off his bus as I am slowly walking. There's others around and he sees me coming towards him and he starts quickly searching in his bookbag for something while looking up at me and back into his bag. As I walk past him, I try to look straight ahead as he's staring at me and I try to believe that I was showing him that I didn't care about him anymore and I had power again. Years after I graduated from school, I am getting help, have been for more then a year, and feel I have a long ways to go. Being groomed for several years by two different men who were my teachers at different schools has turned my life upside down but I'm continuing to fight and not giving up hope that one day I won't be as triggered by anything as I am currently. I want to share my story of these two teachers I had because I want it to be aware that you don't have to be given gifts to be groomed. With these two men, it was staring and compliments and making me question my reality about what they were doing to me and trying to isolate me from everyone at school who I cared about, along with the sexual innuendos of the food items and the senior teacher taking off his shirt and tie while being alone with me and once when alone, him leaving me alone in his classroom after class to go get food for his break and me waiting for however long for him to come back in. There was another day he wanted me to go next door to hand him my test when I was done after class and he told me there was a pass on his desk for me. He left me alone in his classroom and I did as he said though when I went to get my pass off his desk I stood there and was really uncomfortable and confused why he let me do that. During senior year, I stopped eating, and my friends being the wonderful people they were tried to get me to eat, even telling another teacher I wasn't and who helped me eat even though at the time I was angry at everyone for trying to help me eat. I still struggle with wanting to eat, getting out of bed, feeling safe being around people and in buildings, feeling like I have control over my life, liking my body, dealing with feelings of not wanting to live, having self harm that I have gotten help with,feeling no one but them cares about me, the two teachers, wanting to go back to them because it would be "easier" to go back to them then deal with the aftermath of all they've put me through, dealing with sexual thoughts and getting help with all this and how to know that I should feel pleasure and happiness during intimacy if I ever find a partner when all I want to do is, if intimate, pleasure my partner because I don't want to be touched or feel any pleasure ever, in fact I'm afraid of touch and pleasure. I have issues with arousal and I just don't want it anymore. I can't hang out with friends because I can't trust them and men I just think if they're nice to me they want me romantically when that's not the case. Romance is disgusting to me. Overall though, with therapy and some support people, it is possible to heal. I'm not fully there yet though I'm on my way. Some days I lose hope though with the help of my support people, cats, planting and watering my flowers, watching them grow, and knowing that the small things I do each day that I achieve help me realize that there is hope. It's hard to do on your own but learning about your triggers and writing them down is very helpful. I dissociate if I have flashbacks or overwhelm myself with too many reminders of my trauma and become unable to speak or move though grounding techniques have helped with that and talking to my therapist. I have nightmares about the the two male teachers and most of the time they're about school and seeing them or missing them because I love them. I would say, if you're afraid to go to therapy that's completely normal. I told myself I was never going to open up to someone and now I can't stop opening up to my therapist. It takes time and you just have to trust that you'll be safe. I also found it helpful to have the same gender therapist as me because I couldn't handle being alone with a male therapist. In the end, I hope that everyone can find some peace and healthy coping and supportive people to help heal the trauma. Everyone here deserves to have a healthy and safe life. My goal is to eventually become a trauma therapist because I want to help others heal from their trauma and be supportive and know someone does care and believe them. I believe everyone deserves to be believed. Thank you.

I struggled to accept I had been sexually harassed. I was out, but in a group of friends. There were witnesses. I told myself it "wasn't that bad". But, she touched me without my consent numerous times. When called out about it, she pretended like it was innocent. She was a total stranger. I had no idea who she was. She claimed she was too old and I was too young to be taking this seriously. I asked the venue for CCTV, but they wouldn't share it unless i went to the gardaí. What happened wasn't criminal but it wasn't right. I feel shame for not standing up for myself more and making myself smaller in the moment. I am angry that I am angry that others didn't speak when I couldn't. It isn't their fault. It was hers. I am not the typical victim; whatever that means. She wasn't the typical perpetrator; whatever that means.

I’m sharing here because I hope I can reach out to other women who may have gone through marital rape or may still be going through it and I want you to know you are not alone. For years I felt as if I was asleep as I couldn’t face up to what was happening to me, why I was losing weight and why I so depressed. I minimised everything, even to him. I would try and make him feel better afterwards. Most of the time it was as simple as me saying no to sex and him doing it anyway while I was completely disconnected, and it was so often, I would lie there and wait til he was done most of the time, but each thing built up to him pushing the boundaries further, sometimes when we were out in public, always after I went out with my friends, it was part of the deal. I always told myself he’d be in better form if I just went along with it. He was always so stressed and so angry. And I loved him and sometimes I enjoyed sex with him. It made things very confusing in my head. And I was eating barely anything, which he encouraged, he was constantly buying me exercise equipment and sexy outfits. I kept getting sick, I was tired and low all the time. My family and friends were saying I wasn’t myself. There were 3 incidents that I play over and over in my head that I couldn’t minimise (although I tried). And they led to me telling him our marriage was over. That was a year ago. I thought it might help me to write one of them down and maybe someone will identify with me and it might help them. It was at his best friends wedding and as usual, he wanted us to do something exciting sexually. So we went to the men’s toilets. We were kissing and we started to have sex. I was quite drunk. All of a sudden he turned me around and bent me over the toilet, my hands on the window sill. I started to say no. It came out in what sounded like a little girls voice. I don’t know why I remember that so well. I don’t know why I didn’t shout. He raped me anally in the men’s cubicle and I was crying looking at a dirty window sill and I could hear strange men outside commenting. Afterwards I kept asking why did you do that, I didn’t want that, it hurt me, you were too rough, I said no. But he he didn’t want to talk about it. He left me sitting with one of his male friends that I didn’t know to go outside with his best friend and have cigars. He saw I was in pain and bleeding for days after. I stayed with him for years after that. Other things happened after that too. I ended up feeling like his stress ball, a rag doll, good for nothing else. I was with him since I was 18 years old and we have children together. He was all I knew. He was my husband and I loved him. No one knew what was happening. Everyone thought we were a couple in love. It wasn’t until I told him I couldn’t share a bed with him anymore and I was starting ti have panic attacks that we went to a marriage counsellor and it all came out. I woke up. It was her face. Her reaction. I felt so stupid and embarrassed. And he tried to explain it away to her shouting at her that he was a man. I was sitting there thinking how did I let this happen to me? I always saw myself as quite a strong, intelligent, bubbly person. I’m in my 40s, I should know better. I was looking at the counsellors face and it somehow didn’t feel as if it was happening. I realised I was shaking and she was worried about me and he was shouting at her. I felt so embarrassed and helpless. And stupid in front of another grown woman. I was thinking what if this was someone I loved telling me this happened to them? But still in my head I kept thinking its not really rape because he was my husband, and I loved him and so many times I wanted to have sex with him so how could it be rape. But why did he want to hurt me? I kept thinking this couldn’t be happening to me. Anyway thanks for reading. I hope it helps someone. I feel it helped me to write it down.

There have been many flaws that have always been exposed throughout the legal system for a long time. Like child protection services, there are good ones out there who do help children. But there have been so many who go into really bad situations and happen to leave the children there no matter how many red-flagged calls they may receive or even see themselves. Instead, they go into other homes or places where they can't find any of those red flags and then start doing the jobs they were supposed to do the first time. One of these experiences happened when a few different calls were made about a family who lived in an old pink house. Even one of the kids themselves had borrowed a friend's phone for the call, hoping they would finally be placed somewhere else or at least be able to feel safe at home. The reason for this is that all of the children were being abused by their father and the mother, who was their thought it was better to stay than leave because she was afraid of leaving. However, the mother sometimes didn't really protect the children much either; instead would turn them over to their father to save herself from him. (The father would physically and verbally do all different types of abuse to all the kids, from throwing things, hitting them, saying weird comments to them. Making them fight against each other and many other things.) On top of this, the pink house had holes all over the wall and ceiling, and walls in the bedrooms that were sinking in and pipes that were broken and floors that were falling in, and would refuse to fix them instead blamed the kids for the house and how it looked regardless how hard they would try to please him. Nothing would work and after all the phone calls the children had have many threats by there father of what would happen if they said anything to child protection services. All of this really messed with their mental health. So when child protection services did come all they did was was walk through the house and the kids couldn't speak because her father sat there and was watching everything. Instead of pulling the kids to the side and asking them questions, they directly addressed the father, ask the kids questions right in front of him dismissed everything. After just taking in account what the father was saying and of course he denied all the accusations. Even with all physical environmental hazards they just left. They didn't even try to question the children on the side instead put them at risk by asking them in front of their abuser who they were afraid of being physically hurt by after being threatened into not talking. Children's services only was wiling to put them at risk and wanting to close the case quickly. ( this is my first time posting and there is so much more to this but was way to much to put into this post. Just wanted to finally be able to share and be open to see if anyone else might relate to this experience. Might share more details but not so sure. I just want to finally be more open about this experience I had in my life.) This is a brief over view of what happened but I really hate that we never got helped growing up but now he just walks free) I did have more struggles as a teen falling to an abusive relationship and later on another one but lucky a lot of things have gotten better. I do want to tell more but I am now starting to processes everything and wish I could have had a chance to be a kid.