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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.

I was conditioned to think catcalling was a compliment, that if someone held your waist a little too long at work it was just cause "ahh they're just a bit touchy", that it's easier to just "go with it" than to say no and risk their response. It took me years to identify that no matter the degree of your experiences it still is never ok. We often get told sexual violence is one way but it isn't, it comes in many forms and sometimes you can't identify it at first - and that's ok. I am only recently coming to terms with the varying degrees of experiences I've had. I didn't want to say anything because I was made to believe I'd "rock the boat". Well some boats are meant to sink. Let's rebuild the boat so everyone can stay afloat, included and safe.

Praying for forgiveness of the other person and learning to not have a grudge against the perpetrator.

I have never shared my story before. This style of writing is the only way I've been able to unleash the trauma I endured. He was my older cousin. It started when I was 8 and he was 19. It went on for two years. No one knew until I was 18. Still, no one did anything. Most didn't believe me. It took 10 years for me to work up the courage to say the words that I never wanted to say, all for what? I'm 30 now, and I've realized that even if no one fought for me the way I deserved them to, I fought for myself, and I unloaded a burden that was weighing me down, and in the end, I helped MYSELF. I unleashed a weight that was dragging me down, and brought a little relief to myself. All because I knew speaking up and saying something took more fucking balls and bravery than all of the men in my fucking family carried anyway. So, kudos to me. Anyway, this is what I wrote when I was 16 years old, coming out of a two week stay at my first psych ward. I knew I had to unleash this burden somehow. The words just started flowing.. The Monster The monster creeps in late at night when the room is asleep and the pillows are fluffed and ready for my dreams. The monster is a tornado in all of his chaos and he wreaks havoc anywhere that he touches down, especially in my own bed. He tears up the sheets and leaves tear-stained pillow cases in his path. He makes my queen feel like a twin, and he traps me inside of my quilt until I’m gasping for air and screaming for help. I’m screaming and screaming, but no one can hear my cry of agony, because I’m not screaming, am I? No, I’m not because he has taken my voice, just like he took my innocence and my childhood, with just one touch from his claw-like hand. I’m suffocating but just before the world turns cold and black the monster finally releases me, showing me who’s in control and I’m able to breathe again, in and out, in through my nose and out through my mouth. Toss and turn, toss and turn, sleep will come soon, I hope. But how can one sleep after their room was just destroyed by something so vicious, and haunting? The monster comes and goes and no one but me recognizes the trail of sorrow and fear that he leaves in his wake. I fluff my pillows back up, I fix the sheets, and rearrange the quilt. I say to myself, “It’s over for now, you are safe now. The monster has gone back to his cave for the night.” I replace the image of the monster’s hairy back, with images of a sweet shaggy dog coming to cuddle me goodnight. I replace the image of his claw-like hands wrapping around my throat and squeezing until I’m nothing but a deflated balloon with images of hands so soft and serene as they caress me in all the places that the monster's claws have hurt me. I think about the way my Nanny would call me her “little darling” that eventually I forget the way the monster's voice sounds when he’s whispering in my ear. I do all of these things enough until he fades away, taking all the darkness that he brought into my room with him. My twin is now a queen again and I did it all on my own, with no help from anything or anyone in the world. I am more than just a survivor, I am a warrior.

High Priest, You are not my superior Nor would I say equal The darkness overtook you? Abdication of responsibility - not good enough "Call to my house" You opened the door to naivety and trust Vulnerability at the worst You - only lust. In this now New Earth With the light streaming in I see your cowardice, your sin You took the phone off the hook Now, two decades later, to be disturbed The light won't let the dirt hide any longer Now I am stronger. I forgive you to set myself free You have played your part I am at peace, in my power and to reiterate, free.

I started dating him during college. I remember him catching my eye the day I met him, his laugh, his curiosity with the world and the way he smiled when we spoke. We got to know each other over hours of tea time, and we started dating at the end of my senior year of college. I was off to med school in a city 4 hours away, and we were determined to make long distance work. He was my first boyfriend, and after COVID had thinned out my experience of college, I was excited to have found my person. I was incredibly happy in the beginning of our relationship, getting to do things for the first time with a boyfriend and experiencing what it was like to be desired and loved romantically. The feelings were intoxicating. In my naivety of a first relationship, especially my first serious relationship at the age of 21, I failed to seriously question behaviors that I saw in my partner. Take it as a result from my limited exposure to healthy relationships in childhood or my fear of admitting to myself that something was wrong. The part that was most foreign to me as someone new to relationships was navigating my own relationship with sex. I enjoyed sex, especially with someone that I loved, and I was convinced of the idea that I needed to always be able to provide sexually for my partner since now, we were exclusive, and I was his girlfriend. I appreciated knowing that I was desired, and my partner enjoyed being intimate with me. This worked for a while, until I started to need to set boundaries and prioritize my need for sleep and being able to function well in the high pressure environment of medical school. This is a story of a night that happened too many times for me to count in my relationship, so often that I knew it was going to happen every time he came to visit. There would be nights when I needed to get to sleep early because I needed to get a good night of sleep before an exam, or be well rested for another day of clinicals at the hospital. It would be about 10:30 pm, I would get ready for bed, knowing that I’d get a decent 7 hours of sleep if I was in bed by 11. He would be working or winding down his work, I would remind him that I needed to get to sleep so I could get enough rest for my next day. His work was very time consuming and he worked late into the night often, so I never pushed him to go to bed when he had something to work on. The one thing I would remind him of however, was that I wanted to be asleep by 11. If you want to have some intimate time, please wrap up soon because I need to sleep. I would brush my teeth, get in bed and he would say that he was wrapping up. I would try my hardest to stay awake until 11, scrolling on Tik Tok, or Instagram, hoping the blue light would do its job. 10:55. He closes his laptop and heads to the bathroom. I try my best to stay awake. 11:05. 11:10. 11:15. 11:20. I hear a toilet flush and the shower turn on. I can’t fight my exhaustion anymore, maybe it’s the frustration, the stress from studying, or just the exhaustion of cooking, cleaning, packing lunches and breakfast and making dinner for two whiles being a medical student. I fall asleep. 11:45. I’m woken up by him sliding into bed and I turn to curl up on his chest. He pulls me in to a cuddle , stokes my back and kisses my head. “Maybe do you want to do some sexy time?” He asks me. This is a question I know all too well in this exact situation that has played our too many times to count in our relationship. I respond the way I always do, convincing myself that this time, I’m going to stand my ground. “Baby it’s really late and I told you I needed to sleep, I don’t want to have sex, I’m really tired” “That’s okay! Then maybe we can do things other than sex?” The dance between us has started, and I know I really need to sleep but that he is going to get quiet and distant for the next day if I keep refusing. I tell myself that I need to prioritize my sleep right now, and he will get over not having sex for a night. It puzzles me that he thinks that giving him a blow job is any less exhausting than having sex and somehow is still okay to ask for when I told him I was really tired and needed to sleep. “Baby please I’m really tired, I don’t have the energy to blow you” “That’s fine, we can do it in the morning then” I hate making commitments that I can’t keep and I hate when anyone does the same to me. My response is a reflection of that, and in hindsight, not the best decision to getting this dance over with. “I have to be up at 6 I’m not getting up any earlier than that and I don’t think you will be waking up that early either” He goes quiet for a moment. “Maybe we can do some kissy?” I understand that his love language is physical touch and at this point, the guilt overwhelms me. The boy that I love has traveled hours to come see me and spend time with me, and here I am trying to sleep instead of making him feel loved. I know the logic is skewed, but I always wanted him to feel loved and know how much I loved him. If I could just kiss him a little bit, subtract some of my sleep, then that’s okay. This boy loved me and I loved him, I can spend a bit of time kissing him and reminding him that I found him attractive and desirable as well. I would lift my chin and kiss him, gently, softly, as passionately as I could for someone half asleep. I would try to meet his level of intensity, the sleep and exhaustion weighing on my eyelids. Eventually the exhaustion would catch up to me and I would stop moving my mouth as much. “Baby! I’m trying to kiss you but you’re not seeming very into it!” He says. “I’m sorry handsome I’m just so tired, I love you” He lets out a sigh and reaches for my hand that is laying on his chest. He takes my hand and places It right where he wants it. He’s hard. The feeling of dread washes over me. I love this boy, I do, and I’m flattered that he desires me. But I am just so sleepy and exhausted right now. He moves my hand against himself. He uses his other hand and reaches for my waistband. He slides his hands inside and touches me. “I think someone wants me” he says. Of course I find him attractive. I’m just so tired right now and I don’t want to do anything but sleep. He kisses me more passionately. Touches me more aggressively. Makes me touch him more aggressively. The exhaustion has won over my determination to not let this happen again. “Please I’m really tired” My plea goes unanswered as he takes off my bottoms and his own. I know at this point, it is easier and faster to get this over with than to keep trying to fight for myself and refuse his advances. Any time I had refused his sexual advances in the past I’d be met with cruelty. I would beg him to say something while I profusely apologized, and he would keep silent. If it was in the morning, I would explain that I was in pain and would ask to figure out our days together. He would refuse to partake, roll his eyes and would go back to sleep. He would get out of bed after 10am, ensuring that I wouldn’t be able to of any of the things that I wanted to do with him that morning. Once he wore me down and I gave him reluctant consent when I was in pain, asking him to be gentle. The pain was severe as soon as he entered me, and I cried out. I profusely apologized but he stayed silent, even as I begged him to say something. I didn’t realize that this was stonewalling and emotional abuse. Come to think of it, I could never have a period in peace when I was with him. If I lied in bed moaning in pain, he would sometimes comfort me a little. But every single time it would end in him making the same joke, even after I had expressed numerous times how much it bothered me. “You know what would make your cramps feel a lot better?” He meant sex. He always meant sex. Even when I explained to him what excruciating pain I was experiencing, he wanted sex. Even after I explained to him that it bothered me that he kept making that same joke, explained how it made me feel like he didn’t understand the amount of pain I was in. He just wanted sex. It never mattered if I was in pain. He laughed when I cried about how upset that joke made me. My naïve heart was convinced that laughter was innocent. Most of those times he wouldn't relent until we had sex, or I pleasured him in some other way. 12:10. He reaches for a condom, and before I know it, we’re having sex. I’m doing anything I possibly can to get this over with as quickly as possible. Move the way he wants me to touch him the way he wants me to. All the while thinking to myself, “please just finish I’m so tired and need to sleep”. 12:30. He’s done. I try to hold back my tears as I head to the bathroom. How did I let this happen again? I talked to him about this again just last week. I told him I need him to respect my bedtime didn’t I? I asked him to please not push it when I say I don’t want to have sex. I asked him to please not reach for my hand and make me touch you. He verbalized understanding, said that he only wanted to have sex if I did. What was I doing wrong that this kept happening even after I talked to him about it? I go back to bed, he’s curled up facing away from me, starting to fall asleep. I know he likes to have sex before bed to help him fall asleep, it helps him work out the “zoomies before bed” as he calls them. I lay next to him and the tears start silently falling down my cheeks. Is this what being an exclusive partner is supposed to be like? Am I rarely going to be able to sleep when I want to because I need to be there for him to have sex with before bed, the way he likes? Are my pleas to be left alone always going to get ignored? If we live together, get married, is this what the rest of my life is going to be like? One thought sinks to the pit of my stomach. Is this assault? 12:45. I finally get the chance to sleep undisturbed. My hope for 7 hours of sleep has dwindled down to 5. I guess I’ll just be groggy and exhausted working at the hospital again. This was my boyfriend, the boy I have been with for years. He says he loves me. I love him. He cares about me, buys me groceries, buys me birthday presents. He goes to dinner and comes to visit me while I’m at school. He helps fix my car and my devices. We brush our teeth together most nights before bed. He’s my best friend. Some of my friends say we look cute together and have funny banter. Could a person like that assault me? I certainly didn’t say yes. I said no at the beginning and said that I did not want to have sex, but I’m not sure I said no or asked him to stop when he grabbed a condom. I was too tired to put up a fight, I just wanted to get it over with. This wasn’t the first time. It happened just about every month he came to visit me. I tried to talk to him about it often, he called it bickering and said that he liked sex before bed and first thing in the morning and it was hard for him to wrap up work earlier so things wouldn’t happen so late. He shut down when I brought up the topic and said that this was his love language and it made him feel loved. I wanted him to feel loved, just not at the expense of my lack of sleep. I initiated sex often to make him feel loved, and at a time that would be conducive to my need for sleep. But no matter how many times we had sex before I was winding down my night, he always wanted sex when he went to bed because it helped him get to sleep easier. We talked about making time for sex, planning. He agreed when we spoke about it, but the action never happened. What was I left with? No matter what we spoke about, the same thing happened. I spoke to someone close to him about my distress because I wanted to understand anything I could to help reframe my feelings, and hopefully understand him better and feel less hurt. “He’s a 23 year old boy who sees his girlfriend once a month, what do you expect? You’re being irrational” “Maybe you shouldn’t sleep in the same bed then” “If you can’t meet his needs then you need to talk to him about it” “So what if he cheats on you, it’s just sex he’s still choosing to be with you right?” Was I the girl that was depriving him of happiness? I wasn’t giving him the kind of sex he wanted at the hour he wanted? I didn’t think he was a malicious person. The kindest explanation that I could come up with was that his brain shut down when he was in the mood, and he had a hard time thinking about much else other than his desire for sex. His frontal lobe forgot to consider that maybe his actions were hurting me, and he saw convincing me as a challenge. After all, I was his girlfriend and we should be intimate together, and there were many times when I enjoyed it. All he could think about in the moment was just working out his zoomies to help him get to sleep. However, there is a reason why were are humans, not bunnies – we have advanced cognitive reasoning and I don’t think idiocy is an excuse. He loved me, right? Why would he want to hurt me? These thoughts are why I stayed as long as I did. He didn’t mean to hurt me, he just was young and dumb and was working on developing his emotional intelligence. I was convinced that it would grow with time and the more we spoke about it, little by little he would understand. But he didn’t. Was I just being impatient? Long story short, things in our relationship feel apart when things surfaced about how angry he was about the times I refused sex when I was tired, and his desires to be with someone who was more sexually exciting than me, someone with bigger breasts and fuller curves like the porn he looked at multiple times a day. The feelings and questions from all the times that I was pressured into sex surfaced. I felt that these feelings and situations when I felt pressured were the reason why I was so guarded with him sexually and didn’t always feel comfortable and I wanted to work through it with him so I could be more sexually exciting for him. I talked to him about these situations. “I think that was a form of assault. I was pressured into sex when I didn’t want to and it made me uncomfortable” “I never meant to be assaulting you, I’m sorry you felt like that. I can see how you took as that though” He wanted to see if moving in together would fix things for us. The thought of spending every night like this terrified me. “We can have two different bedrooms so that doesn’t happen” he offered. Why couldn’t he just respect my boundaries? I wanted to be able to cuddle in bed with my partner at the end of a long day and feel comfort without the worry that I had to provide sexually when I was exhausted. “I’d appreciate being able to talk through this with you because I have felt violated in this relationship and I’m in a pretty bad place” I told him I was done when he yelled at me over the phone. He was going to look into couples counseling. He said he was doing some deep introspection about his feelings. He sent me a letter saying he didn’t want to be with me a few days later because I was bickering and upset with him. “This is just too much, and I don’t have the time to deal with this and work through these things with you. My work is an extension of me, my priority, and I need to focus on that...I don’t want you to come away from this feeling like you were abused for 3 years” The boy who said he loved me unconditionally had found his condition. His points were valid, everyone has a right to their own priorities. However, it struck me that after 3 years together, he still didn’t respect me or care about me enough to take responsibility and help me talk through the trauma that I had undergone in our relationship. It is always hard to confront that we have hurt someone that we love, and I want to think that his avoidant tendencies put him in fight or flight mode when he heard how much pain I was in. He must have thought it was easier to just run away, stop hurting me instead of confronting the hurt that he had caused me. I convinced myself of every excuse I could possibly make for him. At the end of the day, I was left with myself, healing from being violated throughout my relationship, screaming, crying, not knowing how to speak about what had happened to me. But here I am now, trying to learn how. Was this ignorance? A habitual miscommunication every month? Even that just sounded ridiculous, how can I speak to him about the same thing every month just for him to never hear it? Was I making too many excuses for him? Was I too much of a people pleaser, and was he looking to steam roll me to get what he wanted? Assault always felt like too strong of a word to describe this. Was there a smaller tier to describe being touched when I didn’t want to be and being nudged into sex when I did not want it? Is there a word to describe your partner of years habitually having sex with you when you did not say yes, and did not want to? ChatGPT says “the term for that is ‘coercive sex’ or ‘sexual coercion’ if there was pressure, guilt-tripping, or manipulation involved. If there was no consent at all, even if it was within a long-term relationship, it is legally and ethically considered rape or sexual assault, depending on jurisdiction.” I’ve never been able to call this rape, but I’m coming to understand that rape isn’t always violent and can be done by someone who is an intimate partner who was not physically abusive. He never hit me or got violent with me. But this, whatever it was, came with emotional abuse and still sucked. I felt very disrespected and violated. One thing that I am sure of (unfortunately) is that I am not alone in this experience. I appreciate you for reading this story, whether you can relate or not.

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.

Date, around time I went on a date with him (a correctional officer), thinking it was an opportunity to become acquainted with him as a friend, but it turned out to be a horrific night which I would only remember parts of. He picked me up in his white pickup truck; it smelled of cologne and winterfresh gum. Two smells I will never forget. He took me to a dirty dive bar without asking where to go. I already didn’t feel safe, and I regret that I never said anything to this day. I got my first drink, rum and coke. Keep in mind that my glass was smaller than a coffee mug. We started talking, and he told me he used to be in the army. He seemed to be trying hard to persuade and impress me, but I was not falling for it. The taste of my drink was no different than I had before. I was nearly done with my first drink when he asked if I wanted another, and I agreed. He returned with another and asked if I wanted to play darts, and I again agreed. I took one drink of my second rum and coke he brought to me and started to feel dizzy, tired, and weak. I didn’t say anything yet. I continued with darts. By then, he gave me a third drink, I don’t remember if I even had a drink of it. I do recall saying, ‘I wanted to go home,’ and we left out the side door to his white pickup truck. I don’t remember getting inside the front seat, let alone the backseat. My eyes flickered open and closed, waking up only to see him face-to-face with me. Raping me, I am frozen in shock. Disgusted by what he was saying to me. When he was done, he threw a towel on me and told me to ‘clean up.’ He tossed my shoe onto my nude body and said, ‘Now I will take you home.’ Twenty degrees outside, I was fully nude in a familiar parking lot. I got dressed. He took me home; no words were exchanged. Once I got in my house, I went straight into the shower and cried. I was a virgin He took my innocence from me that I can never get back. Date, around time Sitting in my office, He came in unannounced and sat down in a chair by the door. I looked up, feeling uneasy. I asked him, ‘what are you doing?’ He replied as he got up from his chair, ‘I know you want this cock.’ He blocked me between my seat, the wall, and my desk, I had nowhere to go. He unzipped his pants and grabbed a handful of my hair, and forcefully give him oral sex. This time I remember the whole brutal rape. Pushing, gagging, and choking only made him put more force and hurt upon me. His strength was unbearable. When it was over, he threw a piece of winterfresh gum at me and left. Crying, feeling dirty, guilty, and shameful, I put myself together and completed my day. Violated, not only once but twice, by the same guy. Once outside of work and the other inside work. After the first attack, I was broken inside, but the second attack really damaged me. If I told anyone, no one would believe me because he was a very well-liked person at work, and I was just a caseworker. My sisters were the first to know about the first assault in April 2020. I held back on the second as I felt they wouldn’t forgive me for allowing it to happen again. October 2020 I told my sisters about the second assault. I went to internal affairs, who sent me to detectives. They supposedly did an investigation, but boys will boys, and where I worked, they all stick together. The DA dropped the case. January - October 2023 I now moved out of that county because of the triggers and the hope that my PTSD will get better with time. I feel stronger I told my story and know I am a survivor. I hope my story will become someone else’s survival guide. This happens when you are a strong, outspoken woman at the County Name Jail inCity, State Name

This is my story at 72 sitting here all alone because I allowed my self to be abuised physically and verbally for over a 25 period of a 36 marriage. I lost both my daughter's respect and grandchildren because of his action but blamed for my actions I didn't know what was going on. I found out in 2006 my husband was a drug addict and where he was working gave him the best place to obtain it at state housing project. He was a thief from stealing at work, a liar, a user, drugs addict, gave me herpe.s , kept money from me and the house he could have his stash . Cause me to have a breakdown , I didn't know I part of his plan. He was the good stepfather and neighbor everybody like made up stories and made you feel he was a great guy who loved his wife and family. I was busy raising my family and working. Then I was hit with major medical problems, a brain annersyums which I had surgically fixed but recovered alone and with 36 stiches in my head I was knocked into my kitchen cabinets. I had my rotor cuff torn, I was hit by ball lightning in my basement, my foot broken all well raising a 3 yrs and 8 week grand children with months of each other. I was over whleemed. He left for many weeks and days at a time but I had all I could do was to be standing medically and raising my grand babies. I stayed alone did 10 years of therapy, and also went to a clinic for abuise. Nothing made a difference how I was living the abuise continued. Courts cops, etc. Until just recently I saw they only abuise you when no one is around. My god how true. They run away instead of solving a problem as they are guilty for what they are being accused of. The money, missing the drugs, the liars , stealing , the dead animals, physical and verbal abuse abuses. I was raped , sexually abuised strangled,beaten blooded, and broken . Didn't matter if I got pushed or knocked into something even after 13 hours of a back operation. I could had been parlayed. . I once tried to end my life many years ago just sitting outside in the morning in the sunshine on my deck looking up at the sun and feeling the warmth I couldn't stand the lonelines, the abuise of my marriage and man I loved and the loss of my most precious daughters. I just got up off my deck took my bathrobe rope tried to die. The rope broke . That's strange . My life didn't improve it got worst. I was a beautiful strong independent woman, mother,grandmother. who now wants to die and will all alone. I saw something the other day I had packed from my daughter she wrote look up to the sky, I had a federal law passed for child support They were so proud and made this picture book for me. The news paper said one woman fight became a nation law. 992 I fought for them to get this law passed. They were important and needed to be recognized. Now I sit here crying everyday in pain with no one to talk to embarrass no one comes home and no one cares for me. Every holiday I spend alone and birthday. My only question is why my children who are 50 and 45 don't care about a mother who gave everything to them against all the odds years ago. They know what I'm talking about. I kept a house they grew up in with no skills got a good job had insurance . Not much else but we made it by hard work. What is left of my life is 3 journals-protecting my grandkids while watching them dates and places and their questions about the abuise. I recently found out thru a aaa self analysis he stated he hated my grandson who I raised as a baby. Now I know why he tortured him with unkindness. My daughter has no idea how much I protected that baby. He stopped talking to me over 5 years ago who knows why. I did my job then very well. Why question is why doesn't my daughters understand what happened. I've tried to make contact with them don't want any anything to do with me for over 13 yrs. All because I loved the wrong man who abuse me and I allowed him to. I ruined their lives they believe I think it's the other way around. . I lost my best friends . I thought they were. You can't replace a mother . What happens to me now ? LOVE IS NEVER SUPPOSE TO HURT.

We met back up at 19 , I fell pregnant he was happy ,I was scared for so many reasons , he had no job , mine was not stable ,I had a termination, he begged me not to , I went ahead anyway, he picked me up from the hospital , swore he would my life miserable and he would never forget what I had done , drive me back to his hometown where i was staying until after termination, in that poky little flat was where the abuse mental and physical started , I did not know how to handle this , I was so scared of him , I tried to run once but his uncle was at bottom of stairs . It’s nearly 30 years later I’m still here 4 children and I’ve put up with so much due to me having the first termination, I could never understand why this is my life how I ended up like this feeling like I was in an arranged marriage, I have tried to leave so many times and I get broke down with his emotions as he suffered ptsd after I had the termination he said . That is why he acted so abusive towards me for years, everything has always been my fault and still is , now I still want to leave but haven’t the courage any more to be emotionally drained on why I should stay in this controlled environment that he created , founding out this info has been a massive blow to my self esteem that I have somehow allowed someone to control my adult life , there is no violence anymore I think only because he can’t get away with it . Manipulation I think I’m finding out is what my real is .one big fat manipulation

hi. i found out when i was 14 that what happened to me wasn’t okay. i have no idea how to deal with the fact that apparently im a victim of cocsa, so that’s why im here because i have no idea what to do. it started when i was 5, and she was 9. the first time, she asked what kind of princess underwear i was wearing, then asked to see. i showed her and she touched me, then asked if i liked it. i didnt know what i was supposed to like. this went on for some time, and eventually she got my sisters in on it too, they were her age. i didn’t know what it even was but i wanted her to keep hanging out with me alongside them so i didn’t complain. and the sister i shared a room with one night asked if we could “practice” so we could be good for her, then asked me to touch her. she called it her dog house, and i had to help the dog. me and my sister haven’t spoken about that night since it happened, and i cant get it out of my mind. but the girl never stopped with me, one day she came to my house and wanted to sleep over. i was so excited that she asked to sleep in my room with just me, and it got to bedtime, and she asked if i could help her, but i said i didn’t want to so she made me hold her phone that had porn on it, i sat there for however long while she did it, making me watch. i never knew it was wrong or anything, i just loved the idea of her thinking of me. the last time, i was 12. my family took her on our vacation, and she wanted to go back to the condo for whatever, she asked me to come back with her. i was downstairs eating pizza rolls, and she asked me to come upstairs. i walk in the room and her bottoms are off. she asked me to come and sit, and asked if i would help her. i said i didn’t want to, and she just asked me to take my top off and watch. i remember i just sat there staring at myself in the mirror. the whole time. for the first time, i was scared. we then left once she was done, and said nothing. when it was my 14th birthday, i talked abt it, and i was told that it wasn’t okay. 7 years of my life. i didn’t know. and i don’t know how to deal with any of this. any tips or help would be great.

I was so small and I still have flashbacks.

I knew the man that raped me, he is the father of my daughter which he also strangled. There are two sides to this man, one that's beautiful, loving and very calm and the other that is violent and manipulating. I was too scared to tell anyone because who would believe me. People that I thought were friends saw the smashed glass and the punches above my height on the door. They saw how unwell I became and that I attempted to take my life. It took me months after leaving to realise the extent of what we (me and my children) had experienced. But I left for my children because the truth was I still loved him, but the love for my children was bigger. Going through the courts dare I say is even harder to cope with than surviving the abuse itself. I have met so many amazing people and judges that have been hugely supportive, but sadly also so many corrupt people in that police reports and videos went missing, contact centres that lied which honestly I'm in such disbelief now and the shock itself made me ill. Judges and barristers know each other and gas lighting on a larger scale. I'm totally and utterly terrified and wish I never come forward. I am ashamed to say if I was a reader I would not believe this story. But it's my story to tell, that has imprisoned my life. I don't feel I can trust anyone because so many have lied without real heartfelt thought for my poor children. I'm so very tired of being scared. I'm not alone here in this country there are many of us silenced by the very people that ought to protect us. I desperately want to trust our family courts, but after reading about others going through what we have been through I feel scared about what will happen to my children as my punishment for coming forward. I have one child with this man but 4 children altogether. No one will really know what we survived only now to be at risk of having the remaining time of their childhood further stolen. How naïve I have been.

Name's Death When I was younger--18,19,20. I babysat your kid. You’d come home super drunk with your wife. I remember my heart beating so fast and my hands sweating right before you’d walk in the front door--afraid for what was to come. You’d greet me with a kiss on the cheek while you took a selfie of us. You’d want a hug when you were in your boxers. You’d walk me home at 2 am with your arm around me, making sure I got home safely, when I really needed protection from you. One time you hugged me and threw me on to your bed, but that was just one time. My mom and others always said it “almost” crossed the line. I still wonder what would it have taken to cross the line--rape? I wanted my parents to protect me but the protection never came. I continued to babysit for your family--for another couple of years.It’s like I needed a blessing from someone to finally get me to stop, Tell me it was enough, He’d crossed your line. It wasn’t your fault. A couple of days ago, you died. The neighborhood praised you--and still does. You were Name--the unofficial mayor of our neighborhood who got so many things done. All I hear is that it’s ok to sexually harass women --it’s okay because you had power and status. I’m mad, confused, frustrated, ashamed, and embarrassed. I can’t out you anymore, can’t write the open letter to the community because you are dead and people become angels when they die. In a community that I loved so much, I love it less now.

In innocence lost, I bore the weight, A survivor, facing a cruel fate, Yet within my heart, a spark did gleam, To mend my soul and reclaim my dream. Through pain and fear, I found my voice, Breaking the silence, I made my choice, No longer hiding in shadows' embrace, I rose from the darkness and found my place. With courage as armor, I faced the past, A survivor's strength, resilient and steadfast, I'll not be defined by the harm that's been done, I'll rise, I'll heal, my journey's begun. Together we stand, survivors unite, In the warmth of compassion, we find our light, With hope in our hearts and love as our guide, We'll mend the broken, side by side.

When I (f 24) was around 7 years old, my older step cousin (m) who was around 9/10 would often initiate kissing with me as a 'game' at the time I found nothing wrong with it. id often ask when we were going to play the game again, merely to feel included. it used to go further, sometimes with him undressing me, touching my chest, making remarks such as 'I can't wait for these to get bigger" as well as touching my lower areas. I always used to refuse to do more when he would ask, and I can't remember what age it stopped, probably around 9/10. when I turned 11 I became violent toward him, usually when he was around my younger female cousins, causing me to lash out. I ignored this up until my mid teens, only then thinking of what happened, and confronting him, where he stated "that never happened". after that I moved on, and ignored it, up until last year. I went to stay at my aunts house, I had a good enough relationship with him where we would go out for occasional drinks together with our other cousins. this one night I went to stay at my aunts where he lives, and he tried to kiss me and grope me. when I asked what he was doing, he responded "don't you remember we used to do this as kids?" at that point I left. I had a very bad breakdown at this point, and couldn't stop crying. this has now bothered me ever since. it is hard as I have to see him on familial occasions.

When I look in the mirror I see a girl who grew up to fast, who wishes she could get back the past. After all the trauma,abuse, and neglect, It's time to sit back and reflect. As the tears roll down my cheeks my throat starts to burn, I knew what was about to burst. It's like your innocence is a piece of string you never know when someone might take it from you

Having YOUR voice is the most important thing that you can have as an abuse victim. After going through abuse for multiple years at Location, I felt like everything was stripped away from me. My dignity, self respect, confidence, happiness, and strength felt like were taken by the age of 9. Summer after summer i went to this dark place that was supposed to be a positive experience. My parents thought they were dropping me off at a place to help grow my walk with the Lord. What they didnt know is that Name 2 told me that if I did the sexual acts he wanted me to do, he promised that I would become closer to God. He was a sick individual that constantly broke Location's guidelines and the law. The worst part is that Location had insight and knew these events were happening but did nothing. Leaving camp and going back home I remember feeling empty and depressed. You are not at a maturity level at this age to be able to grasp what has happened and how to process it. I went to child advocacy centers to get professional help and struggled to even talk about what happened because it did not make sense in my head and could not verbalize the events or the impact it had on me. As i moved into my teen years I became more depressed. Every night I would have a dream of Name 2 abusing me and I felt like every night I went to sleep, I was going to be abused again. The fear, anger and depression I went through weighed so heavy on me that I was close to not wanting to make it to the next day. After years of this cycle, I decided I needed change to be able to live a full life. I started to to work on my physical, spiritual and mental health. The biggest part of this is having your voice. You have to be able to share your experience so that you can get the help you need and to express the pain you have been through. That is why I am thankful for Trey's Law. This removes the ability for organizations like Location to silence victims after they put them through horrendous experiences. It gives the power back to the Survivor. Treys Law will save lives. It will allow for someone to stick up for themselves. It will allow for less criminals/organizations to get away with what is the worst crime someone can commit. If anyone is reading this and needs help, I am always happy to listen to your voice! Name

I KNOW that right now there is someone who needs to hear this story (please see questions below). YOU wanted him. He was the most handsome boy in the neighbourhood and every girl wanted him - BUT - he raped you. It has taken 27 years for me to acknowledge the tipping point of my decent into sexual promiscuity and substance abuse. I always blamed myself for the choice to be in that room with him - I asked for it. Right? Wrong. I remember saying NO - at least 30 times!!! At least 30 times. He was the most handsome guy that I had ever seen. Every girl wanted him and I thought that I was good enough to have him. I wanted to talk to him and wanted to be alone with him for a chance to be in sight to be his girlfriend. Instead. I remember being pinned down and saying No - over and over and over again until I gave in. I even remember his words: "You are not leaving this room until I get what I want". I eventually gave in and did it and I always blamed myself for being in that position in the 1st place. I was not a virgin. I was not innocent. I was a naughty teenager - just like everyone else was at that stage - but I now know that I did not ask or deserve what I got in the room that day. I always thought that in order to be regarded as a victim of sexual abuse - that you needed to have bruises. Be bleeding. Have ripped or torn panties - SOMETHING!!!!!! To prove that this horrible thing had happened to me. I had to relocate to another city to run from my past but I could not escape my sense of worthlessness. I am not a psychologist - I only know that there are some of you reading this to even figure out if you were raped in the 1st place? I can only give you some questions, that it took me 27 years to find. I wish for you to heal faster than I did. 1. Did you say no? More than once - many times. He was not violent - you were just exhausted from saying NO and you needed to escape and so saying yes was the only way to get out of the room/car - whatever the place was. 2. Were you exposed to a sexually charged situation - without asking for it? e.g. pornography playing, without your consent to be exposed to this content. 3. Did the situation leave you feeling degraded? 4. Have you or are you using your sexuality (looks) as a a way of acceptance? 5. The opposite of the above is - do you feel uncomfortable looking pretty or drawing attention to your good looks? You dress in a manner that covers up your good looks. 6. You try to look different from the person at that stage when it happened. You have black hair - so you go blonde? You were thin and so you pick up weight. You lost weight. You changed something major about your looks. The movie "The accused" is a brutal example of this - whereby she shaves all of her hair off. Does this sound familiar? In some or other way - this brutal change of looks does manifest after abuse. 5. You have trouble looking at yourself in the mirror - or even taking pictures is hard for you. 5. Do you have trouble saying NO? To anyone.... 6. Do you allow verbal or psychological abuse? Deep down you know this is happening. It feels uncomfortable. A good place to dissect this is if you have a degrading boss/spouse but you have not reported him to HR/Police and you just keep on working/staying there. I hope that this is published. I know that I am not a professional BUT I am a survivor. AND finally I have the courage to say so. Name. YOU raped me. You changed the trajectory of my life. I made myself small since then. I allowed perpetual abuse into my life since then BUT today IT STOPS. I forgive you for a being a 17 year old boy - who raped a 15 year old girl. I know that in YOUR head - you know what you did that day was wrong and you have paid the price ever since, just as much as I have, ever since that day. MOST importantly. I want YOU - the victim to know, that you are RIGHT. It WAS rape and you are not stupid. Or fat, or ugly. Or not worthy. And no amount of "fake" compensation will ever fix the void in your soul until you are willing to admit - that you were indeed raped. From there - your healing will be begin. I wish you abundant self love and may you never ever again, doubt that you are worthy of the highest level of (self) love. I know that you wanted to him to validate your worth that day.......BUT only you can validate you. Know that he has no power over you anymore. Only you do and stop allowing this moment and the resulting degrading experiences, to define you any further. IT was not your fault. It will never be your fault. Forgive yourself. Love yourself. AMEN.