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You think your age makes you less to blame, But I carry the weight, I bear the shame. You crossed the line — no excuse to hide, No softer words can wash this tide. I’m not the one who should feel small, You built this cage, you made me fall. No matter your years, no matter your face, You took from me my safe, my space. But here I stand, I claim my voice, I break the chains, I make the choice. I won’t be silent, I won’t back down, I wear my courage like a crown. So hear me now, and hear me clear, Your actions caused this pain and fear. Age won’t protect what you have done— I am the survivor, I have won.

Hi whoever reading this, I’m a victim of online harassment when I was 19 the incident goes like that I was one day scrolling through my Instagram and one day I get a request from this guy and I accepted it since we had a mutual didn’t think much of it even if I replied one minute late he would spam me that same night we video called he made me do stuff I was totally uncomfy with made me bend over or get undressed on that call I didn’t want to do it at the same time I was like nothing could go wrong he kept asking for my Snapchat password since we were sharing pictures and I told him I was tired and wanted to go to bed he said oh just send the password I promise I won’t save anything or any picture and I thought doing this will make him leave me alone and so i did I think I blocked him on WhatsApp but not on Instagram or Snapchat coz I forgot to do that I think one day I was on a family trip and I fell sick he texted me but I didn’t repspond coz I was sick and then came the message “I’ll have your nudes I’ll share them okay?” And with that message came an attached pictures that he saved on his phone of my nudes the thing is I wouldn’t take pictures of my face when I sent stuff like that but he saved pictures normal mirror selfies I took that showed my face I texted him coz I was sooo scared I took my phone to the bathroom my mom thought I was puking and what not he told me if I didn’t do what he said he would leak those pictures so I did what he made me unblock him on WhatsApp (I said something like oh u weren’t talking to me that’s y I blocked u for some sympathy) he made me gave him my passwords for all my social media accounts he made me get nude on a video call and insert a toothbrush in me I didn’t want to but he was blackmailing me so I did it after that when I told a friend of mine I was advised to block him which i did I came back home from the trip I redownloaded my telegram app same text “Y did u block me do what I say” “I’ll share those pictures on the internet okay?” I blocked him again and then a few months later I get a text from the same country code and the same emoji “🩺 “ in the bio I blocked that number too he’s studying medicine and I know his Uni name since he has it on his Instagram bio. I’m still healing from it I have so much anxiety whenever I think about it I live in this constant fear that he might leak them or already leaked them I wish I could go back in time and just stopped myself from giving that password I wouldn’t be dealing with it maybe if I thought enough I wouldn’t be in this situation but I took steps which were: blocking him everywhere Deleted my snap chat and telegram And also deleted my Instagram account I told my friends to not question the block this guy and they did and after I deleted my account I made an new one first thing I did we blocked him

I was 15. I smoked marijuana occasionally (as I was in my teen angst phase). I had a boy bestfriend and was also in a relationship, not necessarily a healthy one at all but I was in one. One night I felt depressed due to being stood up for a date to the lake I was supposed to have that day. Normally I smoke when I felt down and I felt overwhelmingly down that night; so I smoked a bit too much accidentally. I eventually started greening out and tripping very badly so I messaged my boy bestfriend to calm me down (my bf at the time had went to sleep early for work and lived a town away). He (my boy bsf) invites himself over unannounced and I had to make my way outside to see him (as I was not going to let him inside as it was so late at night and parents were asleep). We then went to the shed outside my house to sit and talk as he "wanted to calm down my high". Eventually it (my high) got so bad I was swaying backwards (while sitting on the floor) and fell backwards. My boy bsf then got ontop of me (as he was/is incredibly bigger than me) and begin taking advantage of me. My body felt extremely weak due to the marijuana and could not pull myself up at all and soon was not capable of moving due to being held down and completely restricted by the boy. I remembered the agony and pain I felt of "it". It burned like fire in me and I tried to scream for help but no one could hear me (as we were secluded in a shed away from everyone in the middle of the night). He left me. The first thing I did due to feeling absolutely disgusted in my own skin was shower... To this day (almost 3 years later) I remember what I was wearing. A tie dye shirt, black basket ball shorts and a bikini bottom that had straps going to both sides (crossed even) to both of my hips. To this day I get scared of wearing bikini bottoms... to this day I fear summertime because of the agony of remembering it. I had kept the bakini bottoms in my dresser because he had finished in them and I believed that was my only proof of the incident. My mother had mistakenly cleaned them.. she had cleaned all if my clothes in my room while I was away in a mental hospital. I am left math nothing but my words. The 2nd thing I did (after I showered) was tell my bf at the time what happened, bawling in tears, pain and frantically texting everything that happened so I wouldn't forget. He, instead of helping or calming me, claimed me as a cheater and left me.

I was 18. In college I was part of a ladies team on in college sports team. There were also male teams. There was a inter college tournament that our college was hosting for other male college teams within Ireland. We all had nights out planned and a 'play hard, play hard' attitude. It was great to be part of something - I genuinely loved playing and being part of the club. On one of the nights I was drinking and got to talking with a guy from another college mens team. It was fun and we ended up back at his hotel room, where we had consensual sex. After, I remember feeling groggy and then being suddenly awoken to all these lads barging in. They ripped the bed cover off us and I remember phone flashes going off. It was year so, not exactly amazing phones back them. Slagging of various types ensued but then I remember being held down. At least 2 different men. I remember saying no, please stop. Flashes in and out while I just stared at the corner of the bedside table, thinking how similar it was to the one in my parents room. Weird. I must have slept at some point because I woke up. I got dressed. I remembered nothing. Nothing but the sex with the lad I kissed. Naturally, the next morning is always awkward so I wanted to get out of there. Just as the hotel room door clicked shut I realised I had left my shoes. I knocked back and had to do so loudly as everyone was deep asleep. As I was doing that one of the other team members opened a door across the hall, he stared at me. I said sorry for waking him but I needed my shoes. He just said he was so sorry. I was confused, having no memory of what he was actually talking about, so I said I'm sorry I left my shoes. Eventually someone opened the door and I got my shoes. Leaving the hotel and walking to the nearest bus stop, I felt appropriately hung over but sore. Down there. I'd never been sore before. Guess we must have really gone for it, I thought. Fast forward to lockdown 3 during Covid, I began experiencing severe nightmares that weren't nightmares. The missing memories came back over 2/3 months and I realised that I had been rated multiple times. That my brain had protected me until now. My SA, unknowingly, had a huge impact on my formative years - I came out as bisexual just 2 years ago. I feel I would have had a very different 20's but I met a decent guy, stuck with him like glue and am now married with a child. Due to the memory block, I have no recourse. No sense of justice so I just hope those boys, now grown men, are better than they were.

I was in an emotionally and physically abusive relationship for 4 years. I have 2 daughters, I got out of it just 3 weeks ago. I am now filing for divorce. Im still not completely over it, im still somewhere in the middle. I blame myself for taking it for so long but I also wish he had not been this way. He did love me, or thats what he made me believe. We would have really good moments together, we were like friends most of the time but when something would happen that he would not like, all hell would break loose. He would scream, abuse and then raise his hand. Sometimes her would just raise hiss hand first and abuse later. After the abuse, the next day, he would come to me with bouquets and beg me for forgiveness. He would cry for hours and ask me not to leave him. He would convince me to stay, but he never honoured his commitments to me. He hit me 15 times in the total 4 years of our marriage. I cant believe I let it happen to me, I can’t believe even after being hit 15 times I had hope of things getting better. ❤️‍🩹 I am glad I am out of his house, I am glad I am away from him. I hope I can push through and persevere. The movie it ends with us came at the perfect time, when I saw it I felt it was me. It was me living that experience, being made to feel like I was crazy. The only difference is that lily decided after the 3rd time for me it took -15. But i realised at the end, I cannot out my daughters through such a traumatic childhood. I cannot let it go anymore, so ai took a stand for myself and I left. Now I am filing for divorce. Everyday with every step it only gets harder but I am certain once this is all over it will be much easier.

Hello, Name, and I am a domestic violence survivor reaching out in hopes of sharing my story to raise awareness and help protect other women and children. After enduring severe domestic violence, and my kids and I being kidnapped ..  I finally saw justice when the defendant in my case was found guilty and sentenced to 60 years in prison. While that conviction brought accountability, it did not end the impact of the abuse on my life or on my children’s lives. The violence we survived changed everything. My children witnessed trauma no child should ever experience, and we were forced to leave our home and everything familiar to start over in order to stay safe. The aftermath of abuse has affected our emotional well-being, stability, and ability to rebuild a sense of normalcy. I am sharing my story not for sympathy, but to bring awareness to the realities of domestic violence—especially how it affects children long after the court cases end. Survivors often escape with nothing, and rebuilding requires support, safety, and resources. Link If you are interested, I am willing to speak openly and honestly about what we endured, the legal process, and what life looks like after survival. My hope is that by telling our story, we can help save lives and bring awareness to the importance of protecting women and children. Thank you for your time and for the work you do in bringing important stories to light. Link Sincerely, NamecontactDomestic Violence Survivor

When I was 12/13 and my brother was 9ish, he started to grope me. At first it was just quick grabs of my breasts or ass. But he started to get more confident and began groping and squeezing for longer and longer periods of time and doing it more frequently. Eventually he started grabbing/cupping my vulva through my clothes. I was a bit bigger than him and could successfully fight him off, but I was not allowed to. My parents knew what was happening and he often did stuff like this in front of them. They ignored it and acted like it wasn't happening. He never got in trouble for it. They would only tell him to stop in the moment if there was a guest over or I was begging them to momentarily intervene. But if I pushed him, hit him, or even just yelled at him to stop, I got in trouble with my parents. I cried and begged my parents for months to talk to him and make him stop, but they never did. I was constantly choosing between letting my own brother touch me and getting punished by my parents for self-defense. It was agony. This probably went on for 9 months. I don't know if I'm really a victim of abuse or anything. My brother was younger than me and smaller than me. In COCSA cases, it's almost always an older abuser and a younger victim. That's not my situation. He knew touching me was wrong, but he didn't have a complete understanding of consent and sex. But, he was old enough to understand "no" and me crying. As his older sister, I feel like I also have a responsibility towards him and that I should have done more in that situation. But how could I? My parents didn't help me and I was punished for protecting myself.

I never realised I had to be wary of women, because I never expected one could take advantage of me. I had lots to drink and simply thought I had made a new friend. I was so drunk that I just went along with everything she suggested, even though I kept saying I had no interest in women. I still doubt myself and blame myself. I thought I was safe and never in my life expected a woman would sexually assault me. I feel nobody understands.

So I am currently in a gap year and it has given me a lot of time to think about my future but also my past. I was 9 when it happen, I remember quite a bit and it has been jarring to look at that memory 10 years later. My cousin she was 12 at the time. I was visiting like I normally did at the time but this visit was different as we were left alone in the house for a better part of the day. We were going to take a bath together like we would normally do but then she said she had something to show me while the water was running. She went into her parents room and came back with a magazine, it was a porn magazine. She closed the toilet seat and said that she wanted me to do what some of the men and women in the magazine were doing to her. We kissed, touched each other, and rubbed our genitals together. We then went on to bath and she didn't really say anything after we were done and I didn't really know how to feel because she was all smiles and happy and I was out of it and I think I have been out of it for most of my life because I have never told anybody what happened. It honestly feels like an out of body experience thinking back on it because it was basically buried in my subconscious and It has affected a lot of my life. I don't know if she remembers but I do, and she's meant to come over for Christmas and I don't know what to do because I basically cut off all communication once I remembered what happened. And we are meant to be super close but I don't know how I am meant to interact with her.

he wouldn’t listen to me when i told him i didn’t want to go to his room. i told him i was too drunk and i didn’t feel well, that i wanted to go back to my room. he took me with him anyway. he stuck his hand in my pants and i told him to stop. he did for a moment, then he tried again. i told him no again, and he did stop. we went to bed. i wish he had done more, because now i’m traumatized and having panic attacks but don’t feel like i should be, because he stopped. i feel even worse for wishing he hadn’t. because then my feelings would be valid.

For years, I thought I had escaped the horrors of my childhood. My father’s overt abuse was a storm—loud, angry, impossible to ignore. So when I met him—the man who seemed so different—I thought I had finally found safety. He wasn’t my father. He didn’t yell or scream or raise a hand every other day. At first, he was kind, charming even. I thought everything was great. But over time, the cracks started to show. The cold, distant days where I felt like an inconvenience. The subtle digs and underhanded comments that weren’t enough to call mistreatment but were just enough to make me doubt myself. I’d lie awake at night, crying, unable to understand why I felt so anxious and stressed. I told myself it wasn’t that bad. After all, he wasn’t my father. Yet, deep down, I knew. I knew he could hurt me if I ever pushed too far, and that fear controlled me. As the years passed, the emotional manipulation evolved into something far darker. What started as control turned into sexual abuse. At first, I didn’t see it for what it was—maybe I didn’t want to see it. I clung to the idea that things would get better, that I could fix it, that it wasn’t as bad as it felt. But the progression was undeniable. I couldn’t look away anymore. By the time it ended, I found myself at a police station, hoping for justice, for someone to finally stand up for me. But nothing was done. Nothing. I left that station with no real resolution, but I did leave. That was the day I decided to start over. Healing wasn’t immediate. It’s still day by day. But now I get to choose what my days look like. I am no longer silent. I am no longer hiding. The mask I wore for years is gone, and I speak openly about what I endured, not because it’s easy, but because someone needs to hear it. Someone out there needs to know that they’re not alone, that their perfect-looking marriage may not be so perfect, and that they deserve better. I poured my story into a book, Book Title. It’s not just a story about abuse; it’s a call to recognize the subtle signs, to question the system that so often fails victims, and to challenge the way society dismisses our pain. I know how hard it is to rise, but I also know it’s possible. If you’re in that darkness, know this: you can rise too. Healing isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. And every day, you have the power to choose a better life. Because still, I rise. And so can you.

My name is Name I am a lifelonglocation 1and relocated to location 2 3 years ago. I never thought in my most horrific Nightmares that I would have a devastating story like this to tell. But now I do and this is my location 2 life. Welcome to location 2. The land of delusion. I have been trying to file a lawsuit for the following abuse and mental/psychological cruelty that has happened to me since relocating to this God forsaken state: -False Imprisonment -Medical Malpractice/Medical Negligence -Defamation of Character -Falsafying Records I have been trying to file these claims against Mental Institution Name in location 2. I have been working with Name 2 of Organization Name since last year regarding ordering a site inspection against this facility due to all the violations they committed that have gone unnoticed and undocumented from the inspection done by Agency Name Please see below for an outline of what has occurred: ========================== Date: Followed up on my rape kit done at the Rape Crisis Center Name a few weeks prior with the policewoman assigned to my case, Name 3. I went to the precinct to speak to her because I missed her call and they told me she was going to come to me later that day. Name 3 of the Name of Department came to my apartment later that day with 2 other policemen/women, bullied and forced me out of my home, Name 4 Acted me and sent me to Psych Ward Name via ambulance and restraints. I was told by all 3 police that Hospital Namewas going to examine me and look into why my stomach was so enlarged. I was kept at Psych Ward Name all night. No one examined me nor did the ask about my stomach issues or my vaginal soreness from being REPEATEDLY raped. I was then taken by ambulance in the middle of the night to Mental Institution Name 2. All of this was STRONGLY AGAINST MY WILL. Date 2: 1st day at Mental Institution Name 2: --Violently ill and throwing up nonstop from the medication, which they stated they had no record of the next day in their charts, I was then given a shot in the buttocks because I refused the medication that made me ill and then reacted terribly from the shot, jumping out of my skin for a straight 24 hours. --Complained of my vaginal soreness throughout my 2 week stay due to being repeatedly raped and no medicine was given to me for this, I was completely ignored. --Was unable to shower for days due to lack of towels --Badgered/Harrassed by another drunk patient who threw her dirty diaper in my room in the middle of the night and frightened me. When I complained to staff about this nothing was done. ---Changed my medication the first time with a new medication which caused my tongue to swell up, was unable to talk the entire day/evening. --Psychiatrist who was assigned to me decided to change my medication again throughout my 2 week stay which made me more anxious, feeling like I was going to have panic attacks. She then decided to give me an injection to treat skyzophrenia in my left arm. I am NOT SKYZOPHRENIC. My left arm blew up and was very achy. She wanted to keep me for an additional 4 days after that to give me the second injection so I then petitioned the court to be discharged with the help of the public defender, Public Defender. Public Defender never mentioned anything about the mandatory 72 hour hold for LegalActs, as I was already kept against my will for nearly 2 weeks before reaching out to him for assistance. I Learned that on the police report Name 3 stated false 911 calls. THIS IS A BLATANT LIE and the report was falsified. I followed up on a rape kit and responded to Name 3's call ONLY WHEN SHE CALLED ME. Date 3 Discharged from Mental Institution Name 2 I was traumatized for a week after being discharged. I was unable to drive or leave my house due to constant panic attacks. To this day I still baracade my front door with 3 dining room chairs due to lack of protection from the police, as my rapist is still at large. In addition to this, I was told the police threw out my Rape Case due to insufficient information. REGARDING THE INSPECTION FROM Agency Name: It was 7 months from point of complaint sent to the field office for them to inspect. We are no longer in COVID so this does not make sense why it took so long. I was held for 10 days with no hearing and no sign of voluntary admission. There is no evidence in the medical records that a petition was even requested per law. This is CLEARLY false imprisonment! I have been continually suffering from PTSD, Nightmares & Panic Attacks since this horrific incident has occurred. I am seeing a Psychiatrist and have been prescribed 3 psychotropic drugs to help assist in my suffering. I have already called 20Location 2 ATTORNEYS & 10 Location 1ATTORNEYS since last year to try and seek justice however no one is willing to take on my case. I have been walking around for nearly 3 years carrying all this pain of sexual and emotional trauma and there are days that destroy my peace so much that I get physically ill. I have several health issues that have developed since relocating to Location 2 and Doctors that are unable to cure me. I am grateful for the few people I have in my life who offer support and so happy yo have this platform to assist in my healing. Thank you for listening. ❤️

I remember waking up that October morning and having no idea whose living room I was in. But I wasn’t panicked, just confused. Things like this, sad to say, have happened to me in the past. Go to a party, get too drunk, and brown out most of the night and wake up in an unfamiliar place. But usually I was around other friends. But this was different. I sat up on the couch and feverishly began looking for my phone for some sort of glimmer of hope that I had not been so irresponsible to have lost my phone, on top of my dignity. There, already blaming myself. I quickly found my phone by my side and had multiple missed texts from my roommate and from two of my good friends. “Where are you?”.. “Are you okay?”.. So what happened? Someone stumbles into the living room at this time, someone that I still to this day honestly don’t know the name of. Immediately, graphic flash backs of the activities that occurred on the couch came rushing back. The couch that I sat on now. Quickly, I realized I needed to get out of this apartment. There in front of me stood a brolic, 6-foot something Caucasian male smiling, in far less distress than I was. By nature, I never want others to feel uncomfortable, even if that puts me in a position of feeling more uncomfortable. I always choose to save others before myself, it’s a character flaw that I actively am trying to work on. But even on this day, as vulnerable as I felt, I decided to continue to entertain this stranger who decided to take advantage of a far too drunk girl at a party. So I thought. I stayed at the apartment and made small talk, about what, who knows? I was too busy trying to act like I wasn’t the most uncomfortable person in the world. After about an hour of conversation, I requested that the man take me back to my car which was at the house were the party was the previous night. He agreed. When I reached my car, I quickly said goodbye, rushed inside, and called a close friend. She picked up the phone immediately saying “hey girl, are you okay?”. “Yeah, I’m fine. But I don’t remember much of last night. Did you have a good night?” I answered … as the conversation went on things began to make a bit more sense. My friend said she had also blacked out the entirety of the night. But here was his mistake: She had only had one drink, a few sips of one she was sharing with me. She was the driver. Staying sober for a handful of people. Then after this drink, her boyfriend was carrying her to the car because she became too incoherent to be at the party. Two male friends and her boyfriend knew something was wrong. She knew something was wrong. Her boyfriend told me later on that as they carried her into the apartment, she half-consciously tried to push out of their arms. Attempting to fall onto pavement over being carried inside. Resenting any form of touch. She quietly pleaded, ‘I have been drugged. Please do not touch me. Please do not do this’, again up the steps, through the door, as they tried to take her shoes off. Kicking while unable to keep her eyes open. Knowing enough, but not enough to know these men were there to keep her safe. And suddenly, I realized it was that man, the man who stood in that living room that morning who had given me the drink. What if one of us had taken that dose on our own. I proceeded to share the news with my friend and I decided to be drug tested for the both of us. Positive. I have no more details on my own night. The rest is left up to your imagination. I felt dirty, ashamed, angry, but most of all embarrassed. What had I done the night before in front of my classmates and peers, that I respected and that respected me. There were many feelings involved with this event that I chose to let go of and to just let the event be a thing of the past. This incident impacted the amount that I attended parties while in school and certainly made me more conscious of my surrounding when I did go out. I relied on the counsel of my friends to provide me with support for the amount of shame and indignity I felt over the following few weeks that turned into months. I strongly believe it is because of these friends that I was able to continue after this event with a stronger mind. This support system. Today, I seldom think of the event. It happened, I learned from it, and I have grown since. I am a true believer that you should only invest your energy in things that help you grow and for that fact I choose not to let this day impact me at this point. Today, I am in a healthy, happy new relationship and choose not to be held back by this one night’s events. I am still in control of my own damn life.

Each year it crashes in like the waves beating the stand. It brings a swirl of emotion and feelings unbeknownst to my fragile mind. My body seises as it struggles to stay afloat. I gasp as the sharp prickly water traps my body, unable to move, but only to breathe, breathe... breathe... and breathe. A calm air slowly comes over me as I become conscious of this storm. Sobering me, I remember that it will pass...

what i have learned from this ordeal is that someone who wants to hurt you is intimidated by your light. they’re afraid that if you know how beautiful you are, you will leave them so they try to bring you down. but they can only dim your light for a time, they can’t take it away from you. our bodies are resilient and they are made to heal. survivor

He was my best friend of 12 years. I suppose I let all of this happen because I believed in the romantic trope of best friends being in love. One movie in particular is love rosie. I really thought he loved me but I know now that he loved using me. Last year was one of the toughest I had in my life. I was depressed, I weighted well over 200lbs and balding. I waddled and I was huge and nothing fit me. I gained this weight actually to keep him in my life. This man constantly cheated on me. I did catch him cheating on me as if the gods wanted to expose himself to me for who he really is. He loves big girls. I mean big like 200 to 300 lbs (he stated they are easier to control) He loves thin hair and white passing Spanish girls. Most of his ex girlfriends looked like that. So I was surprised that he even chose me and I chose him for a while. I fought so hard for this relationship. I loved hi so much. Now I cannot say one nice thing he ever has done for me. I am ashamed of myself of actually believing that this is love. He was my best friend and he wont hurt me. He hurted me the most of all. The problems began after 2018. After he took my money @20,000 worth is where everything got fucked. He promised he would buy a house for the both of us and we would live off the land. He actually owns that house now. Did I happen to mention I am an immigrant by the way? I think early 2019 was one of the most difficult things I ever had to face. I have proof I gave him money. He lied to me afterwards stating that we lost the house and the money is stuck in escrow. He started to act very cold after he obtained the money. I was the root of all of our problems. Everything was my fault always. I lost my job due to having difficulties with the manager. I was scared and I literally gave away my emergency money for ‘’our house’’. I was starving. I went to bed hungry and starving. He did not help with anything. He did not pay for groceries. He fucked me while I was starving and he knew it and smirked. My relationship with my family was bad. I had no one. I went to food banks and I stole from dollar tree because I had no other way to survive. I had nothing. The audacity of this man to cum inside me and kiss other girls and treat them better. He gaslight me so much that I had a hard time with reality. I don’t know how many times he cheated on me. He has an std now afterwards called herpes. I do know That he put me through hell. I was hospitalized 9 times thanks to him. I think I was overworked and the amount of stress caused to rapidly lose a lot of weight. He never cared to visit if ever. He would only text me through his phone and I would use the wireless wifi t text him. He never lifted one finger and he never came for that. He came to torture me that’s for sure. I have more to write but this is what I can write for now.

Two years ago, in my first relationship my boyfriend at that time raped me. It was my first time and I completely froze. Now, I’m happy in a new relationship but becoming intimate again is really scary. I confided what happened to me with my mom and she said that I wasn’t pure anymore. I would like to be intimate again but the shame gets in the way. I’m working on this through therapy in the hopes that I can feel safe in my body again.

I wrote this poem today after hearing of guilty verdict in current court case with taxi drive and two separate victims. Title: Me Too Taxi Driver I too have been where you two have been. I too went out with friends. I too had one too many. I too got in the taxi. I too expected safety. I too was raped. Followed in through my front door by a taxi driver who wanted more than the fare that I had paid him. I too reported my assault. I too made my statement. Then our stories diverge. My case went nowhere. My trauma went inwards. My anger turned septic. My shame imploded. My mother does not know. My case went absolutely nowhere. Insufficient evidence and no identifiable suspect minimised my experience. So I thank you for standing strong, for speaking up, for getting some of the justice that I have craved. My taxi driver will never hear the judgement of a jury, and probably never even felt guilt. But he raped me, and in the court of my mind, the jury is unanimous, he is guilty, guilty, guilty.

In the months following my assasult, I grew so angry. Poetry was my outlet, to not be quiet and be as angry as I wanted. 100 pages of poetry marred by tears, anger, betrayal, hope, and happiness. On the 100th page, it was dedicated to survivors, I hope that whoever reads this, will find some degree of comfort as I did when writing it. Dear Survivors, You are more than enough. You are worthy of all the stars and gold combined on this Earth. What happened does not define you, you are more than that. From one to another, it’s tough, it’s difficult. You’ll have your ups and downs, happy moments and miserably haunting ones. But, I’ll say this; Thrive. In all honesty, thriving will be tough. But it’s the best reward there ever will be. You deserve to thrive and live and have fun and experience life. What happened to you does not define you, but it is a part of you. What happened to you is not shameful, what happened to you is not your fault- it never will be. Do not let those around you shame you and beat down on you, quieting you and your story. You are the writer of your own story. You decide if you want to forgive. You decide if you don’t want to forgive. You decide if you want to be the bigger person or not. You get to decide. Don't let anyone else tell you any differently. C.P.

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.