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I was a victim of child sexual abuse when I was 7 years old and my cousin's stepbrother was 9 or 10. He abused me for two years. I told my mother what happened, and his parents punished him. Most of my family didn't believe me. In a conversation with my mother, she told me I had probably made up the whole abuse and that I was a liar, and I cried a lot that day. My grandmother is proud of him because he's a doctor in Germany and has a good life, while I'm trapped. I can't stand being touched and I can't get over it, even though I've been to therapy. Yesterday I saw his Instagram and felt bad because he moved on and I didn't. He told me it was a secret and I trusted him (the three of us were alone because my uncle and his wife -who is the mother of my abuser- are doctors so they were always in the hospital). They would leave the food ready for us and he (A) would put it in the microwave. A pulled my pants down a little or lift my skirt (if i was wearing one). When A was on top of me he was kissing me- it was overwhelming and i couldn't focus on anything else but his breath and voice, he was grabbing his crotch, but I didn't understand what he was doing. We were playing normal with his little sister and then A exclude her from the game to be alone with me so A put her in front of the television so she wouldn't focus on us and was distracted. Then A guided me to the room, he close the door to the room he shared with his sister (my cousin's bed was near the door and his wasn't), so he would make me lie down on the floor next to his bed so no one could see us. At first, I would get on top of him, but then he said I was too heavy to be in that position (I guess it wasn't comfortable for him to abuse me). That led to an eating disorder that I still have; I even developed anemia last year. I remember once I ran to the bathroom because something didn't feel right, but he started banging on the door but then I realized there was nothing I could do, I mean where would I go? My uncles locked us out. I remember once, A didn't close the door properly because his sister came in, and he straightened his clothes and pushed me under his bed, but his sister saw me and asked me what I was doing there, and I stayed there for a long time. And her sister got under the bed to keep me company; she was saying something to me, but I couldn't hear her, or maybe I wasn't paying attention. I think I'm broken, because his kisses and his voice in my ear were too much, and I never noticed if he ejaculated or if something else happened that I overlooked or never noticed because I never went to a doctor, my mom never reported him. And we couldn't count on my dad because he abandoned us and went off with the neighbor and treated her daughter as his own while the abuse was happening. That's why I lived in their house during that time; that's why the abuse continued because I was in the provinces and my mother traveled to the capital because of a false accusation my father made against her. A year later, my mother's half-brother baptized me with my abuser's mother, and I never said anything. I just smiled in the photos as if nothing was wrong while I hugged A. Now I´m 22 and I still feel sick and dirty.

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.

It started as sexual harassment. And I let it happen. Do not let it happen to you! I was a college intern working on my supply-chain management major. In business school you know you don’t just get a degree and POOF! A job is magically waiting for you. Unless you already have connections. I was a single woman on financial aid and had squat for family connections. I needed to make some connections while still in school that I could use to climb the ladder. It is a very competitive world. A time when we don’t care so much where we work as long as it has prospects of advancement and making money. I was interning at the corporate offices for a rental car company. I got my first choice for a class in which we had to intern at a real company. My group of four was in their logistics offices and we had no clear job at the time but my school had sent students for a while so we had a contact person and some loose idea of a project that my group of four had to put together and execute for our grade. Well that was kind of of dud and I went along with the bad idea of planning more efficient distribution routes for their cars entering the fleet. It was naive because the company had real pros who designed the system. But, because of my feminine wiles, I got invited to come in and help in my free time by a top manager. Just me. I jumped at the opportunity and on my available days I showed up early in the morning and tried to be like part of the team. It was a very masculine environment. I tried to hang in spite of the pretenses for my special treatment. “You’re not one of those feminist types who go crying to HR if a man gives you a compliment or a pat on the backside, are you?” The man who first invited me had asked. We’ll call him XX. I assured him I was not, anticipating his expected answer. “Work hard, play hard,” was something I said in my denial of values he was obviously opposed to. So the couple times XX introduced me as his mistress I went along with the joke. Another stupid mistake. As an example of my environment, after a male Y in the department first showed me how to use part of a program that calculates stock outages, he had me sit and try it and gave me a massage I did not ask for early in the morning. Well XX came up and made a joke about Y getting his hands of his girl. They had some bro moment where the male Y asked him if he was serious, saying something about XX’s wife, to which XX backed down and said something like “It’s just a joke. I’d love to in my fantasies, but she’s company property, brother.” Company property??! I was sitting right there! I tensed up but tried to pretend I was so absorbed in the computer training as XX left and male Y went back to massaging me, but this time more boldly. He got down my lower back and upper buttock then went down the arms to my thighs, stopping me from doing any work as he blatantly brushed his forearms and hands against my chest. I felt so weak and almost paralyzed by the time I forced myself to stand up to go use the restroom, stopping it. I could have just done that at the beginning but did not. Later hat same day, XX had me go to lunch with him and have a beer at a bar and grill with a pool table. I was 20 but they did not ask for my ID because I was with XX. I hardly ever played pool and while we waited for our food he “showed” me how to play. He made fun of the cliché on movies and television where a man has a woman bend over the pool table to shoot just so he can push his crotch against her backside in a suggestive manger and lean over her with his arms on each side of her to show her how to slide the stick. But while he joked about it he actually did those things to me! That was a good day for my two main molesters and an awful day for me. XX hugged me as we stood up giggling and apparently his hands now had a license to molest my body whenever he wanted. I got numb to it in some ways, but emotionally more on edge. My butt was grabbed or spanked playfully in the department, even by male Y. A few other men were very flirtatious. My shoulders were rubbed, hugs on even minor greetings with XX and finally I was supposed to get used to little pecks on the lips too. I felt like I was in a constant state of mental anguish and defensiveness. My body could be attacked anytime. But I did not defend myself! I would say clearly to XX and some others that I wanted to be respected and considered one of the guys and have a job there when I graduated and they affirmed it. Both main abusers encouraged me, but still sexually harassed me. With my moronic blessing! The semester ended and I kept going in daily during summer break. It was my only lifeline to a possible job after I graduated in a year. I was so groomed that it was not a big leap at all when XX pressured me to give him head in his office. I refused with a smile and head shake and he came back with some rationalization about how I owed him and he really needed it just then. He would not take no for an answer. The first time I lowered myself to kneeling before his desk and took him in my mouth my hands were shaking and I teared up and had to sniffle snot back up. I was the one who was embarrassed! It was like an out of body experience and my mouth dried up to where I had to ask him to drink some of his energy drink. Internally there was a huge change immediately. I was gutted of all pride and self-worth. I was like a zombie. Hardly eating. Lots of coffee. Showing up and doing the reports that had become my responsibility and mechanically giving XX his daily BJ in the afternoon in his small stale office with a small window. I started to have migraines during that summer. I drove home for 4th of July and got so inebriated I ended up sleeping with my much older sister’s ex-husband in the back of his truck. That was a terrible wake up call. I knew I couldn’t pretend much longer without a breakdown so I put my two week in at the rental car place where I was working for free. To secure my future I made sure to keep it all friendly and “you know I’ll be back working here next year”. The idea of all the time and humiliation I had put in being lost to nothing was a major fear. I put myself through two last weeks of it. I had quickie sex with XX twice on and over his desk. I gave into extreme pressure and gave male Y a BJ too when he explicitly made it about a letter of recommendation. He knew about me doing it for XX. He did not even have his own office and we had to use the stairwell. During my final year of school I became aware that I was too traumatized to ever go back there anyway. The extent to which I had been used and abused became obvious to me, where before it had not. As if I had been living in a denial haze. It was a painful time. I was a bit reckless. I got a C in the high level economics elective I took. I said yes to several dates to avoid being alone and either slept with them or freaked out in anger at them. Seeing that I needed the car rental faux-internship on my resume I did email both abusers for letters of recommendation and got a good one from Male Y, but a very impersonal, generic one from XX. I was so dejected and angry. Finally, I told my sister, the one who confronted me about her ex-husband. I TOLD HER EVERYTHING AND THAT WAS MY FIRST STEP TO RECOVERY. To letting out the pain, screaming at myself in the mirror, punching the heavy bag at a boxing gym I joined, and to seeing my first psychologist and psychiatrist. The therapy helped more than the Celexa and antipsych. The support group helped even more. I met two friends for life who have my back in times of sorrow. I have to repeat that it is not my fault that I was abused, even though it kind of was. Don’t let it happen to you! They will take as much as they can from you. Plan your boundaries now and be assertive! Report harassment immediately. Doing so you are being a hero and protecting other women and yourself. If you have already been abused, GET OUT of the situation and talk to someone about it ASAP. There is nothing to be gained by letting the abuse continue! Talking to someone makes it real and lets you start the process of hating less and starting on the path to learning to love yourself again. You deserve real love.

Just words. You have trouble talking about these things. You realize you have trouble talking about a lot of things. You remember being excited about your first job at Company Name. One of your friends works there and you know a lot of people work there as a summer job. It’s the 1990’s and it’s been grandfathered in that they can pay you less than minimum wage because it’s like a part time training experience for students getting their first work experience. Like a newspaper route. Those are for boys. You got so excited after being nervous you asked for an application along with your friend. You don’t remember meeting him then. So many people want to get chosen for that crap job because for some reason it’s become a sought after thing among the cool kids. You do remember the phone call that you can come for an interview. Walking home you wonder if being cute and having larger breasts than most almost freshman girls had something to do with it. You met Name and remember him for sure this time. The way you look has been a curse far more than a blessing. One reason people would not feel that bad for you. 'God sure blessed you, honey." You have so many bad memories, blocked memories, repressed memories because of Name. You are having second thoughts as tears build up. You need a drink. You quit drinking years ago and today you have three months and eight days sober. Your record is nine months and two days. You are strong. Most of the time. You are hollow. All the time. Name wasn’t the last but he was the first. You change his name although you don’t want to. He is the symbol of your hatred of all that is wrong with men. You were tricked. Name got what he wanted from you. Too many times. Too many times before you stopped going back. Just stopped. You could have just stopped after the first time he held you close and caressed you before your mom picked you up that night. The first time. You still don’t understand or forgive yourself for that. You had let a boy at a party and a boy at an 8th grade dance put their hand up your shirt. You had liked it so much those times. It had been exciting and happy. Name did not make you happy. You went back. You want to talk about something else now. Not the other men who thought your body was their plaything. Not the time you went to Ireland with your Aunts and mom. You miss mom. That was a good trip. You got back to that a lot. You sat down to talk about things you don’t talk about. On a family trip to Adventureland you asked your cousin if was considered losing your virginity of a boy did it to your boobs. You pretended it was a cute boy, not Name. It was hard to breathe with him sitting on your torso thrusting. You sometimes break things and scream. Never when your son is around. You have two jobs and don’t really like the one that pays the most. Your college degree does not count much. How much life is wasted on despair and doubt and taking the wrong path? You feel relief when he finally finished. You hate when he finishes because you know he is stealing his ultimate pleasure from you when he has a wife. He acts like it was just another day at work to keep you on his leash. You are pathetic. His remnants are inside you every time you go home after closing with him. Just another miserable day in the life. You say nothing. You tell no one. You are worthless except as a vessel for him. Your parents say nice things to you, about you. They always have. They have to. They don’t know what you really are. A black shame is the times you felt pleasure in your body while he was doing it do you. At least while you remained quiet and motionless there was some dignity. Defiance. Insult to him. When your body and voice reacted like you liked it it was a betrayal. Like you liked that tub of disgusting man on top of you and inside of you, fucking you on that tile floor, kissing you like a lover. You befriended a group of guys by mid high school. Over a year after Name was more than thorn in your soul. A deep callous. The group figured out what you were. They played football. They were important and had strong will. They shared you and passed you around. They told you they loved you. That you were the coolest girl. They took what they wanted when they wanted. Why? Name 2 was you lab partner for biology. He was the first. He was the only one your age. You went in his car for lunch and met some others. They wanted you. You volunteered. It is all you are good for. Draining them of their juice so they can be happy and feel like men. So you can feel empty and dirty. Even after they graduated they got together for group fun, or had you sneak out at night to go for a ride. You headed far west after you graduated. A fresh start. An exodus. An escape. You went to one reunion. The ten year reunion. Name 2 came with his wife. He introduced you as his ex-girlfriend. You let hm take you to the disabled restroom and have his quickie. You went to the bars afterward and ditched your real friend and let Name 3 take you back to his hotel room to live his fantasies just because he claimed that he always loved you. They say attractive people have sex more frequently with more partners than normal people. The darkness behind that statement is that for females it is no always because they want it that way but because of the relentless pressure from men and how they will do anything if they get the opportunity. You are not a nice innocent girl. Would you have been if it had not been for Name like you want to think? Would you have let your much older cousin you barely know take you back into the woods with him behind their house to the shack where he smokes pot after a wedding. Then wait there for him to call his friends after he found out you were a bad girl and wait for them too. Swatting flies in your underwear while you waited for them. You did not drink because your mom did not allow it even though kids younger than you were. But your cousin and his local friends did. Four of them counting your cousin old enough to be your uncle. Still, you acted like you liked everything they did. They took it so far like you were the world's greatest toy. Porn star, they called you like it was the best thing you could be. The anal was excruciating. It was easier to just wash off all your makeup than to try to fix it after all the sweat and sticky. Smiles and complements followed by the deep hollow feeling of total isolation in the station wagon on the way back home from Kansas city. Hating Name and feeling like you betrayed your aunt because one of them was her fiancé. You got an infection and it was embarrassing when the doctor told you. At least it was a female doctor. The idea of a male gynecologist is unnerving. The one time you were examined by one was terrifying. You were in college. He was way too thorough and talkative like he was working up to asking you out on a date and you decided never again. The only one you ever had that did not wear gloves for the breast exam. The most sensual digital vaginal exam you ever had to check the cervix and ovaries for pain. Was his thumb supposed to be brushing your clitoris? You even wonder if he was recording it on his phone that you saw him adjust twice as it was peaking out of the breast pocket of his lab coat. His stupid November mustache he asked you if you liked. So some days you don’t eat. You exercise to maintain the body they want. It gives you value to them. You are nothing. People always say nice things. Hollow things. What if you had never met Name? What if you never got fucked on the floor for $3.45 an hour. On your back, on your hands and knees, sometimes even on top of him. Your first orgasm on that floor that smelled like stale milk and bleach. Having to tell your mom pick you up 45 minutes after the place closes for your cleaning duties. You used tampons just to keep from his semen leaking out on the way home. You pretended to be a virgin when you were far from it. He told you not to worry because he had a vasectomy. That part must have been true. You don't got on dates even though they always try to set you up. Not a chance. Your son is a good excuse. And a real reason. Real love. The Earth spins in space. Why can’t it just freeze and die like me? Your boss doesn’t go all the way with you because he won’t cheat on his wife. You give him oral because he doesn’t think that counts. Preserves his purity. He says he wants to so badly, like he can take whatever he wants from you but he is strong and valiant. You are nothing. He is handsome. You let him kiss you and fondle you. You long for his touch. He is not a great man but you long for him. The closest thing to a good man you have known. A father figure. Your son needs a father figure. He is everything. He deserves better. He loves you. He tells you are a good mom and that is worth enduring the world for as long as it takes. You put on a good face but he knows you are hollow, deep down. A wounded duck pretending to be a swan. Always pretending. Was there no pretending before Name? Maybe not. The days begin and your mind pretends and it is hard and the days end. Bad dreams on both ends. Will he be a good man? The funny thing is you want him to be a prince because he is your prince but even if he is like most men you want his total happiness. You want beautiful girls, good times, and strong friends for him. You exist to fake it and to have let those men enjoy you but mostly to give your son the best life possible beyond you. You are not worthless. It is not your fault. You are stronger than you know. Hollow words. They have to say it. They always have. No creativity. No insight. No truth. Just words.

DECADES When I was 22 years old, I was on a college campus with my finance and decided to go out to the car at 11 pm to get the left over cake we had brought from dinner. I man walked near me and I said hi, and proceeded to get the cake. The man came up behind me and flipped me to the ground trying to rape me. I screamed, time slowed down and I remember hearing my Mom say that my car keys are a weapon so I started jabbing him with them. I struggled free, ran to a building, falling on my way. A driver arrived who heard my screams from blocks away and the police were called. The police even thought they got him and showed me several photos of similar looking men, but I couldn’t make a positive id, so he was set free. After this sexual assault, I bought a gun, moved in with my fiancé, took self-defense classes, read books, saw a psychologist who diagnosed me with PTSD due to overwhelming anxiety that paralyzed me. The world was no longer safe. It resulted in triggers, and brought back my first sexual assault as a teenager in a crowded bus in another country of an older man pressing his erection against me as I keep moving away from him toward the front of the bus, until I finally found another teenage who I could sit on her lap to get this stranger to stop. It has been 64 years since I was attacked in that parking lot. I have been happily married for 64 years and have a positive self image. BUT, I still can’t wear skirts. I still can’t go in parking lots alone at night and am uneasy going anywhere at night. I can’t watch a movie or play that has sexual assault or the anxiety becomes overwhelming. I still own the same gun.

OMG, where do I begin? I have been raped multiple times. I later facilitated the Me Too Monologues. I have written my own stories and am writing a memoir about my experiences.

I am a survivor of almost 6 months of continued (almost daily) traumatic sexual violation when just 12 years old, in 1969. My mother had left our family of 4 boys, ages 1 year through 12 years old (I was 9-10), and my father did the best he could, to keep us siblings together. The Catholic school I attended directed my dad to a man that was supposed to help with my "care". He lived very near the school, in a relatively nice house, with his wife, and two daughters. With a job at his bakery, and a much more "stable" environment than what was occuring at our house, this seemed a good opportunity for me But it came with a huge, hidden cost. This perpetrator was a classic, serial pederast, very devious and skilled in his predation(s). I was a manipulated, dominated, and controlled conquest for a very sick being. When I, finally, could endure no more, I sabotaged the situation, to bring it to an end. I was unable to say anything about this horror ( "Who would believe me?", "Why'd you let that happen ?", "Were you asking for it ?") for about another 15 years (1984, or so). Even with that, nothing really changed, or was done about this dangerous pederast/pedophile ... My young soul, spirit, and physical being had been crushed, and I was left to pick up the pieces, as best I could, all by myself. It is a "real wonder" that I survived this time, to be sure. And all of the years that have followed. This monster went on to violate many more adolescent boys, and teens, after me. I think that I was his second "victim" (I hate that word), and he continued for 33 years, right up until his death (I found out later). I have not been able to fully resolve this (I've really tried, a lot), and it haunts me to this day. And probably will 'til I leave the earth. I have given it to God, but it keeps coming back. I'll end this here; I hurt too much recounting it all. God Bless All who've survived this egregious trauma, and Rest the Souls who could not endure, and/or cope, with the evil that beset and overwhelmed them ...

Iam a 33 year old with 3 children(2 boys and one girl) my first born son is from my previous relationship. I was a fresh graduate when i met this man that i currently have two kids with …i finished university expecting to get a job to support me and my then only son but each time i tried to look for jobs my husband discouraged me saying i would be exploited and given peanuts so to whom it was wise for me to sit home and be a wife i gave in and sat home but him satisfying my needs was always a fight i remember i asked for panties and bras for the last 6 years and nothing.everything he provides we must first have a fight and he knows so well i have no where to run to because he isolated me from my family. After moving in with him and my son he started treatung my son with so much anger he would beat,abuse and use vulgar words to him and he still does it he shows him that am not your father and only favors the kids i have with him. Mine i came with is not worthy of anything good. While i was pregnant for his son he was flirting with my sister and by this time i was not getting any financial help so i opted to go to my mothers rental and after sometime my sister disclosed to me the kind of husband i have when i confronted him about it he was too bitter and threatened to take my kids from me. When i was pregnant for my second child with him i got him with 15 girls flirting and sleeping around i was so devasted and almost lost my child due to stress i put my self together and let it go for my sake of my baby but i swore i was done with this man so i started not to pay too much attention on him and concentrated on raising my kids meanwhile i was caught up had no money of my own and had no relative in contact with i perservered and stayed to have a roof over our heads and to solicit food for my kids. I actually lost sexual appetite towards him for all the disgusting things he does behind my back but he would force me into sex and threaten not to provide if i ddt satisfy him a time came when he would rape me saying am his property and that i couldnt live without him since i dont have any money. It was all verbal violence until may this year 2024when i confronted him about cheating with my cousin and messages of him in a lodge with another girl that he grabbed me by the neck and strangled me and beat up that i started spitting blood..at this point i said to myself i should leave and start a new life i actually told him am leaving and he laughed at me saying u cant leave what are u gonna feed ur kids .i was packing whole day thinking to my self i cant fail to get where to stay but reality hit me and for sure i had no where to go so i unpacked my stuff and stayed its now months and months of sexual, financial,emotional and physical abuse but i dont know where to start with 3 children ive actually contemplated suicide so many times thinking it will ease the pain. Am in fear please advise me

There was a lot of emotions happening in me that led up to the night it happened. I was struggling in my relationship, I was confused about God, I was angry at my friends who didn't include me in their get-together that day. So I drank a lot. I drank a lot of tequila, specifically, which I never do. I don't know the guy's name I went home with that night. I don't know what he looks like. I don't remember leaving the bar with him. I remember "coming-to" for just a minute, realizing I didn't know where I was, and trying to run out of the apartment before collapsing onto the floor in the hallway of the complex and crying. I woke up mostly naked and I was sore and bruised and still very drunk. I don't believe this guy forced himself upon me. I just didn't know what I was saying yes to in the moment, or even who I was saying yes to. I'm still working through the fact that it's not my fault that this happened; it's not his fault - I don't blame him at all, as he was extremely intoxicated as well. But I want other survivors with a story like mine to hear this: just because your story may not involve abuse, just because you were blackout drunk, does not mean that you don't deserve to be considered a survivor. Because you do. You're not alone. You're not alone. You are worthy, you are not damaged, you deserve love. Healing is not linear and it happens in small ways, but it does happen.

I visited this site very recently. I am taken aback by the shared incidents, I never knew there exists a community that shares some very much relatable ,personal and difficult to even acknowledge incidents. I know what it takes for oneself to even accept the happening and lest sharing it with so many people. I'm proud of the survivors and wish them more power & strength, I would also like to thank the person and the team behind this initiative. The stories I read made me realise that I owe myself a favour and let myself out of the shame & suffering that I have been going for almost 10years now. So here I go. I have always been very fond of a brother sister duo, the care the love the fun the protection they have for each other is unmatchable. I being having no brother, always had a longing for it. I have a cousin who is 8 years older to me, we have had few family trips and he used to visit our house whenever he could, he is/was loved by everyone, in short our families are close enough. Some ten years ago when I was 14-15 years old , he was on a long vacation we used to meet very frequently and we developed a bonding that I always aspired for. I loved him as a sister and was very much caring. He was too. He started giving attention to me, whenever he would need any help he would ask nobody but only me and I was more than happy to provide 'anything he would ask for' being his little sister. We visited a relative's house for few days. We were all sleeping together and shared blankets. It was then that he touched me inappropriately, he pulled my top under the blanket and had his chilled hand over my bare stomach , though I felt uncomfortable but I thought it's really cold outside and it's nobody but my dear brother, so I didn't reacted and acted as if I'm asleep. New day new memories and everything about the previous night was gone. That night everyone slept in the same order, we were all slept and in the midst of sleep I felt a hand unbuttoning my shirt from the cleavage, he rested a portion of his hands on my bare chest, I did not know what to do so deliberately changed my sleeping posture turning my back towards him and pretending to be asleep as if nothing was noticed. I knew it then that it was not appropriate but I did not stop it. The next day I remember I prepared myself better ( wore an extra layer of sweater and buttoned it all the way up to the neck) so as to not let him make any advances while I was sleeping , that day I do not remember very clearly but probably he had made unsuccessful attempts and out of the desperation he had tried to insert his hands inside my clothing from elsewhere and I had resisted it becoming rigid in my posture and then he had tried to apply presurre to which I had given in and he might have been successful.I do not remember much of that night but it was not sober of him. He crossed his limits the other day when I was asleep with my head outside the blanket and I felt something going inside the blanket I saw him being inside the blanket with my top pulled up and him being very close towards my chest. I do not know whether I'm making up but I think I saw him checking out my bare body with his phone's screenlight. I became very afraid , since others were also sleeping in the same room just beside us. I hastly tried changing my posture and adjusting myself and my blanket as a result of which he got scared and turned his back towards me and showed as if he is asleep. I was up for that whole night. I was scared. I was ashamed. I was embarrassed. I wanted to cry. I couldn't make sense of anything. I couldn't make eye contact with him.I was not myself for the next 2-3 days , I felt as if he was ashamed too of his deed. Within a week everything was back to normal between us and we were back to our house sharing the same earlier sibling kind bond. As days passed he started asking me adorably to sleep beside him when none of the elders were around and though I knew what he meant by that but everytime I shamelessly followed his words and ended up having his both hands clasping my clothed unguarded breasts under the blanket while I pretended to sleep. He used to lick my face, my ears while I was actually sleeping. During cousin sleepovers, if at all I was sleeping at night distances away from him, he used to pull me closer or change his place beside me so as to have his hands over me. I stopped feeling guilty or ashamed in those days. I don't know why I let him do everything then. Why I didn't resisted instead gave way to get exploited by his hands. I used to love him even after everything he did to me, I longed for his visits. Then after 2 years his visits became rare and I was afraid now of his deeds in presence of others ,so once I resisted sternly and did not let him pull me closer to him, from that day his acts stopped, he never made any advances after that as far as I remember. But still I had no ill feelings for him. Then after a gap of 3 years or so, we all attended a family function where we spent time together . Though I was hesitant of him in the begining but in few days I got closer to him for another time. We shared same dinner platter, cared for each other, helped each other, became a team, joked ,laughed , clicked pictures and made memories , it was for me the perfect brother-sister bond. The next day when everyone of us was badly tired after the function we were resting in a room with him being inches away from me. This time it was me who searched for him and reached for him with his feet in my hand's reach. Though I instantly put my hands back to me but I remember him checking whose hands it was and finding me at the nearest. Neither of us said anything then as we were tired as hell. After that incident I was in a loop of flashbacks for months, my mental state was badly hit, I started analysing every act of him replaying in my head, I could feel his hands over my chest, his clasp over my breast, his wet kisses over my ears. I used to cry all day long, I started staying by myself all day long, I limited my interactions saved for the necessary ones, all along without being getting noticed by parents and sister. I used to pull a fake face for the world, rinsed my face all day long to not get caught of crying. I couldn't make any sense, I felt all alone. I felt something hollowing me from inside. Everything was going to fall if I didn't do anything for myself, may be standing for self. I decided confronting him through a text. I wasn't angry over him on the text, I wrote that -I wanted to tell him that few of his touches were not appropriate so being his sister it is to make him aware of the good and bad touches. To which he replied with a guilty emoji. I thought I was done, atleast he knows that he was not right. At that instance I wanted everything to end and we being the same old us with me still loving him. But as days passed there was turn of emotions I cannot count, from love to care to forgiveness, to anger to hatred, to what not. I texted him again with all the ill feelings for him, he apologized for his deeds and asked me to text him( couldn't have ever talked all this over phone) whenever I wanted. I thought okay, I can atleast share with him what I could not with anybody. With each passing day I started hating him even more,I tried to not let myself alone with those thoughts for long. I started avoiding him, I stopped calling him or texting. I met him in all these years at few instances and I make sure I'm never in his vicinity,I maintain my safe distance and do not stay in his presence for long alone. I might be talking to him over call in everyone's presence but I know I hate him. I won't ever forgive him nor I will ever forgive myself. Yes, I hate him but I hate myself more. It makes me think I was involved too. I was at fault too. I am guilty. I must have derived pleasure out of his acts and so I did not sternly opposed him at the very first encounter . Everything now is seeming very apparent, how could I not see and understand his intentions I was not a small kid. Why did I let him continue with his acts for so long? I have no clear answer to any of these questions. I'm fed up with all this. I am trying to have peace and live with these dull flashbacks which makes me remorse everytime the pages of the past are turned.

Number years since what happened to me. There has been so much pain and hurt. One of these men was constanty asking me to sleep with his friends but my answer was always no , never, not a chance , You see i found it so hard to accept what had happened because i had to much to drink . I do believe that something was put into my drink as i had no more to drink than what i normally would . I was a at party with these two people. I dont remember leaving the house but i do remember getting sick out of the taxi on the way home. Both of these animals took turns to have sex with me . I remember just lying there with no clothes on and been unable to move unable to fight them of . Both of them went outside and i remember the strong smell of cigarettes and could hear them both laughing . Shortly after both of them left and i lay there confussed , helpless and alone. I must have fallen asleep because i remember it was bright out and one of these men came back to the house. No accountability has been taken from either of these and this is what makes healing so hard for me. Im trying to take back my power but some days are just so hard. Both of these men took adavantage of my vunrability. Learning to tust myself and love myself is my main goal for now and knowing that i did nothing wrong,

So it’s been 20 years and I’m still having issues. I am a MST survivor, and I’ve only recent not called myself a victim. I have been able to hide my issues with my trauma, but I got through times where I go numb. I had other trauma at the time that triggered my ptsd, but I wasn’t in an emotionally safe environment and my trauma wasn’t as important as the other trauma that was going on. I wasn’t the one that needed the support, so I suffered in silence as my symptoms got worse. As my symptoms got worse I pushed everyone away. When I talk to my husband about it he’s co loses to tell me I need to get over it I can’t change it. He will tell me that my trauma shouldn’t get pushed onto him because he didn’t do it. I know that is true, but I can’t help what triggers me. So fast forward to now, I am still not receiving the support I need from him, I know his way of healing me is to push for me to accept it, but I just need an ear to listen. He tries but it’s not the way I need. And he believes that after 20 years I should have no triggers, but I don’t know what triggers it anymore. So my story is this. I was 19 years old in the army. I was a new mom, a single mom, to a premie and she just got out of the hospital a few weeks prior. I had a roommate, and she didn’t have a key to the apartment so the door was open waiting for her to come home. I was in my room with my daughter sleeping and the next thing I know he was there. He choked me until I passed out. I came to and he was raping me. Then when he was bored with that, he tried to force me to do oral on him and I bit down and he started hitting me and kept going. I was focused on my daughter, I didn’t want him to hurt her. I tried fighting back but it didn’t work. He finally was finished tormenting me and left before my roommate got home. I remember the exact song that was playing, the smell of the candle, it was snowing, it was cold, but I can’t remember his last name. I sometimes think Name was not his first name. I remembered everyone’s name I worked with, but his is not coming through anymore. After he left I locked my door and held my daughter all weekend. I didn’t come out of my room, I had everything I needed for my baby in my room so I didn’t have to leave. Monday came and I had to use so much makeup to cover up the hand marks and the bruises, the black eye, the busted lip, it was hard to hide it all. I was walking into work and my NCO saw me and saw my neck and said what did I do. I told her and she told me I couldn’t tell anyone that, no one would believe me because I was a single mom, a female that was obviously not smart since I was so young and had a baby by a guy no one knew and I wanted to keep it that way because it was no one’s business. So after she rejected me I went to my first sergeant. She basically told me the same thing. She added that he was a respected NCO, no one would ever believe me, I was someone who had a baby, was unmarried, was a junior enlisted, hung out with the wrong people, and so on. After that I just let it be, decided that it would not help to continue to tell anyone. When people asked my happened to me, I just told them I had a hell of a weekend. I turned to alcohol and drugs afterwards. I would go partying in excess regardless of how much I worked. I was drinking and using drugs to the point I knew my daughter would be safer with my mom until I could get back state side. I did get a little promiscuous, but I mainly just partied until I couldn’t remember. Side note, this is something my husband doesn’t understand and adds how he would have handled it. I did get pregnant in December of that same year, I did marry him and he was my safe place for a little while. I went back home and had my child and realized I wouldn’t be able to deal with my trauma with two babies, so I learned how to push it out of the way. I went back into the military to get deployed, i needed to earn money for my babies since I was getting divorced. I pushed him so far away and I know it was my fault it ended. Well I went to Iraq and met my current husband. He is the first person that I told everything I could pull out of that box in my head. At that time he seemed to understand that I was broken and damaged goods. He listened and understand why I couldn’t be the same person I was before my trauma. Over the years he has seen issues with how I am and doesn’t understand that I don’t know what triggers my issues, he just says get over it, you can’t change it, you need to find something that gets your mind off of that. He gets mad because being intimate comes and goes, but I can’t help it, I don’t really understand my triggers, especially since I and all alone now, my husband works out of the state, all of my kids are grown, so I am literally alone with my thoughts. I know I am not learning how to heal, but I am neglecting him and not caring about him, which is far from the truth. I went through something with one of kids that triggered a very long time of being numb and not caring about much. I decided to get help because I was being triggered by things that I didn’t know or see for years and my husband had had enough and convinced me it was time to get over it. So I started this program for MST survivors and I was doing so good, but then something triggered me and I don’t fully know what it was. I have back slid so much that I fear someone is coming to get me at very odd times. I have nightmares of someone choking me and beating me and then I wake up. I have panic attacks while walking a trail in a populated park. I am getting paranoid in public. I don’t sleep. I’m up for 48+ hours at a time. And when I do sleep it’s for maybe 2 hours. My husband said it’s not normal for it to be going on this long. I feel like it’s hopeless for me to not get triggered so bad out of the blue. I am a work in progress but I have went back to a dark place again and it scares me. I don’t want to go back to after it happened. I don’t want to deal with it by abusing substances I am not suicidal, I’m just in a spot whereby I’m alone in every way again. I don’t want to discourage anyone by reading this, we all deal in different ways, and sometimes there is something that throws a fork in your progress. We can’t give up or accept defeat. If I didn’t already say his name is Name, and he has damaged my life to the point I might end up losing my marriage, my safety, my happiness once again. He will not win this time, I will defeat this with the strength I have left. Thank you for letting me express my thoughts. I very much appreciate it.

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.

Firstly I want to thank ourwave for creating this safe space and thank anyone who takes their time to read my story, when my mum was a teen she fell pregnant with me, once I was born we didn’t have a stable home we lived between houses the main house was my nanas, where my uncle lived too. I was 5 he was 15 and When no one was in my uncle would take it upon himself to rape me I don’t remember everything as I was so young and somethings slowly come back especially since my police report but I vividly remember him taking out his penis and putting it my face telling me to suck it..the other memory I have it him sitting me on my nanas bed and him attempting to rape me..he used pliers to try make it easier and also asked me to try help too which I did.. these memories stuck so well in my head and I can never shake them..I also remember my mum bathing me and she has since stated she saw very sore red skin around my lady area and asked “who’s been touching you” to which I replied “name” …now I may not remember everything I may not have been pinned down but that day a piece of me died and I haven’t been the same since, I went my whole life my mum telling me it never happened all my family went against us told everyone i was lying and he was protected whilst I questioned should I even be alive right now at the small age of 9 years old..because I did question my mum on the night terrors and I asked why I got moved so far away and why I have memories of it and I went all this time thinking I had made it up I told myself I was a freak an attention seeker but all along I was right I was a survivor and now I’m 21 years old I’ve just recently reported my uncle to the police and I have my own baby to protect..I don’t get why everyone or how anyone can hurt a child the way so many are hurt

It ended with me. I remember the day my mother slammed my head into the floor until I bled, I was 9. I remember her nails digging so deep into my arm that I hid the cuts and bruises they left, I was 12. I remember my dad protecting me as soon as he understood, I was 14. I remember it because I live it every day, even though it hasn’t happened in 6 years. A survivor is a survivor for the rest of their life, no one gets to take their strength away from them anymore. They know how much it’s worth.

Last year a friend of mine invited me to his house for drinks. I thought nothing of this as it wasn’t the first time. I began to feel really drunk and went to lay down for a while. When I came back around, I realised his hands were down my shorts. I wanted to scream in that moment but no sound came out. I wanted to run away but my body wouldn’t move. I was completely paralysed. When it eventually stopped he then joked about the blood all over his hands, I was shocked and embarrassed that my dignity had been taken from me like that. For months I felt guilt and shame that it was my fault. I had panic attacks and nightmares that still persist. I found the courage to speak up one day and never looked back. I have so many people now who support me when I need it. You are not alone ♥️

I am a victim of domestic violence. 4 out of the 5 relationships I was in through high school til I was about 24, every last one of them was emotional/mental abuse. I would get called names, like dumb ass or stupid. They would look at me in disgust because of what I looked like. I got sent to the hospital one year because I wanted to be skinny by not eating all day. One of my exes would’ve grabbed my stomach and laughed because I had extra weight than he did. Another ex would argue with me over something stupid. He wouldn’t let me hang out with friends. I was single for four years because I didn’t want to feel that pain again. But when I read It Ends with Us, and saw the movie, I was brought to tears because I felt that pain back. There is a happy ending though. My current relationship now, he is the light of my life, he treats me like a queen, he treats me the way someone is supposed to be treated. I never want to go back there again.

I don't really know where to start . I was abused physically and emotionally, as a child by the person who was suppose to protect me .I dealt with it all along because that was the life I knew and also because I felt guilty .I was told it was my fault ... I am really confused if I was a target for him sexually . He knows Homeopathy and always used to say it was because he wanted to male sure I was doing fine. I now only realize that I was constantly sick for at least first six years of my life. I remember getting high fevers and constantly taking antibiotics .For all I was told it was because I had a weak immune system which I might have had but I realize now that it was the terror when he shouted and hit me and my other family that got me really really sick and almost making it impossible for me to recover. When I started to grow he became much sweeter but that's when he really started making me feel uncomfortable .He would just tell me he was checking my growth and that if he didn't no one else will .I didn't believe him but I had developed a fear of him so much that I let him see me whenever he asked. My first time actually realizing that what he was doing was wrong was when I woke up around midnight night(I am pretty sure if was around two) one time and felt his eyes staring at me. He was holding my leggings down and just staring , I remember the cold air rushing through my body and sweating at the same time though it was like I couldn't move ,I am not sure if I froze or I was just too scared for him to know that I was awake. After that I tried to stay away from him but I just wasn't allowed to say no .I did strayed telling him ( not very directly at the start but i did make excuses and said at least no or later every time)that I don't want to be alone with him or I wasn't comfortable showing him by body or letting him actually touch it but he just never cared and I was too scared oppose him directly because whenever someone did he would just hit everybody and the mental torture he made everyone go through was unbearable .He also told me to not tell anyone including my mother because it was a secret and that no-one else would understand (I still fell disgusted by it).I did not and don not want to be responsible for causing more torture to my family so I kept quiet .After some time it did reduced probably because my body stopped growing (almost around the age of sixteen).He uses many methods over time to make sure I never fond a way out (mostly violence like hitting and screaming and also by degrading me like even when I scored the highest marks in exams he would just tell me it was because others weren't putting in their efforts and that what I did was of no value).I am financially dependent on this person and I come from an extremely conservative family and culture so very naturally all the people I know are the same . This abuse didn't just collapse my self esteem that I still am trying to develop but it also affected a number of things that happened in my child hood like 1.When I was around four years I went to a house of my mother's friend. I was playing in the room upstairs that belonged to her daughter when her youngest son came in(a lot older then me but I am not sure about the exact age gap )and started playing games with me .They started normally with toys and he shoed me a light he had. It was some sort of a mirror with light on it .As a kid I wanted it but he said I could take it but we could play with it.(I used to get too attached to people in a very short time at that age) .He covered me with a blanket and that probably when he discovered I was afraid of dark (it might have been natural at that age but one of my childhood punishments also included being locked in a dark room while I was sitting on such I height that I couldn't get down from).He would switch on the light and then turn it off .It was like a scary play at first but then he pulled my trousers down and I just remember felling confused about what he was doing .I asked him and he just said to not tell anyone .I don't know what it was but I didn't look at him after that .At first he would on the lights whenever he pulled the trousers down and the close it when he pulled the trousers up but later he didn't turn on the light and I got a glance of him just seeing me .I never told anyone because I didn't knew what happened and because that would just mean being locked in my house for the rest of my life 2.I went to a friend's house once with my family .They are really good people and we know them from a long time .My friend had a brother an year older than us .We used to play together .That day he took whatever chance he got to just sort of hug me from behind .I didn't say anything because I thought he was just messing around until his hands started touching me inappropriately .I can tell now it was probably just the curiosity any person had in their puberty but I still don't understand why I didn't push him back .It was before I was 13 . After that I basically stopped visiting their house .Again I never told anyone. I am not a good looking person at all .In fact I am barely even an average looking person so I know its more difficult for people to believe what I say. I didn't even know a person who is so closely related to you, who is suppose to support you in life can actually do something that is NOT OK.I always thought that he did it so I could be a better person .Now that I think of what everything he did , I fell very confused and I cant help but think what I could have done differently to prevent it .I know the people around me wont believe me ,maybe I wouldn't either if it was someone lese (its just the society I live in ,its not bad ,the people are supportive but really conservative with a limited views ).I still am around this person and he hasn't really changed .I cant do anything about it .I tried to divert my mind and thoughts from the memories but it didn't help. I even tries to self inflict cuts and bruises on me but it didn't really make all that pain go away ,it just helped for a while sometimes to divert the attention .I never thought I would even want to think about what happened to me let alone share it but I am trying to fond a way to make it better ,to overcome it .I still get really scared whenever he is around (and he is around too often).I get scared when someone shouts or in any way gets angry .I want to study to make sure I can become capable enough to support myself in future if I ever get the chance to be independent but I find learning really difficult with everything happening even though I know it is the only chance i ever have of leaving this person and maybe these memories .I am struggling but I am sure that one day I will be able to accept it and move forward .I really hope I can go though this.

I was abused by my older brother from the ages of around 4-9 multiple times. My long term memory is shot because of repression so I don't know the exact ages it happened. I've never told my parents because I didn't realize until I was in high school what had happened was wrong and at that time I was still living at home so I felt like I couldn't say anything. I have never told anyone except for licensed therapists. In my senior year of college he called me to acknowledge it and apologize. I was stunned and shocked because we had never talked about it before. We act like normal siblings but I've always had OCD flare ups and anger management issues around him. We still kept it a secret and now its about 5 years later after the phone call and I am ready to be done. I have a great therapist now and we are working on a plan to tell my parents. I am so scared of this next chapter in my life but I know it needs to happen for me to feel free and to truly feel validated and not alone.