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When I was in my early to mid 20s, I experienced my first serious relationship. It took me more than 2 years to notice I was being manipulated, gaslighted, and psychologically abused. I lost myself in that relationship, I felt like a different person, constantly depressed, and lacking self love. My firsts attempts in getting out of that relationship were useless, he manipulated me into believing I was the problem and that I was the one who needed to change. I was cheated on multiple times, he didn’t want to say end time sith me or my family. I always founf myself making up excuses for him. He made me think that everything was my fault and that I was asking for too much of him. When I decided to leave him, he made me feel like I was the problem and like I was a burden to him. It’s hard to identify when the abuse is psychological, you’re not crazy, you’re not wrong for asking for attention, for dates, for quality time, which I never had with him. Don’t let anyone, humiliate, control, gaslight, or diminish you! You deserve love, support, peace, attention, RESPECT! Try to identify the red flags on that questionable relationship, it’ll get better and it’s never too late.

I don't know if what my brother did to me can be classified as sexual abuse. I was staying over at his house. It was late at night, and we were watching a movie. At some point, he asked if he could initiate some cuddling. I actually agreed, since we are really close and both enjoy physical affection. While we were spooning, he snuck his hand under my shirt. He didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything. As the night went on, he alternated between different caresses, kisses on my head or the side of my face, and words of affection. I idly stroked his arm back because I felt awkward just lying there. He eventually asked "is this okay?" in reference to his hand inching up my stomach. I was giving him the benefit of the doubt and still thought the action was platonic, plus it felt nice, plus I am a timid person and have a hard time with confrontation, so my brain thinks saying "no" to people is provoking them, so I said "yes". I didn't really want to say it I, though. I don't think I wanted to say "no", wither. I don't think I wanted to say anything at all. I was tired. We both were. His caresses smoothly progressed to the point he was caressing the underside of my breasts. That's when I started really questioning his intentions. He asked "is this okay?" again. I said "yes" again. When the movie ended, I got scared. I had been using it to distract myself from what was happening, and I was afraid that now that there was no distraction, he would shift his whole attention to me and try to initiate something; so I sat up. He lightly squeezed the underside of my breast as I did so, maybe on purpose, or maybe as a reflex. When he realized I was genuinely pulling away, he took back his hands, said: "I'm sorry. Your brother's a creep", and got up to take a shower. I think that's the moment I started freaking out. It's what confirmed my suspicions that his touches really had sexual intent behind them. I had been trying to gaslight myself into believing they were innocent affection, but those words were forcing me to face the reality of my situation. I remember running my mouth non-stop about random topics when we were having breakfast because I was afraid he was going to bring up what just happened and would want to have a conversation about it. I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to pretend it never happened. I still try to. But it haunts me. He and his wife (who had been sleeping peacefully in their bedroom through the whole night) left early in the morning for their honeymoon (I was there to house-sit, and had come the night before to hang out with them before they left). Once I was alone, I quietly went to their bed to sleep (with their permission and insistance, since there were no other beds in the apartment). As I tried to fall asleep, I still could feel his hands on me, like a phantom touch. I broke down right there. I felt guilty, and disgusting, for not having stopped it and for having enjoyed it too. I felt like maybe I was the creep, and maybe I was the one turning this interaction into something inappropriate. The following weeks, I tried to suppress my feelings. Some days before Christmas, I was on a plane with my mother, about to start our holiday vacation. I was close to my period and my breasts felt sensitive. That triggered something in me and I suddenly teared up right there, in public. That vague ache reminded me of the feeling of that one squeeze he gave to my breast. My mother noticed me about to cry, but I lied and said that's just because I'm close to my period and feeling gloomy (I had been struggling with depression for a while, which she knew.) During the trip, I would get random flashbacks to that night, sometimes even accompanied with feelings of nausea. I felt like I was making my brain overreact somehow, since I hadn't been raped and I shouldn't be traumatized for touching that can barely even be considered intimate. When we got back home, I did something I'm not sure whether I regret it: I talked to him about it. I sent him a long text (he lives in another city, which actually made me feel safer about confronting him) which I barely remember anything about, except that it mentioned "that night" and how I had been upset by it. I broke down while typing it, and it probably wasn't very coherent. My brother sent me many short replies in quick bursts when he saw it. He apologized profusely. He said "I don't know what's wrong with me", "I'll get psychological help", alongside many things I don't remember. That had me freaking out a bit. What did he need psychological help for? Was he admitting he's got urges he can't control? But I didn't say anything related to that. I was afraid of accusing him, and I made sure to clarify I was also to blame for not setting down any boundaries. We were both replying to each other without thinking. We were panicking, and full of adrenaline. I was scared of losing him. He was the only connection I had in the city we both lived in (very far from our hometown, where our parents and my friends all live). I didn't want to upset him, because he's a very sensitive person and I already felt guilty for how I was reacting to it. We somewhat resolved the issue over text. Except we didn't. At all. I pretended we did, but I was still plagued by doubts and paranoia. More than the touching, what haunted me were his words: "I'm sorry. Your brother's a creep." They shook me to my core. All I had wanted was to be in denial about what happened, but those words wouldn't let me. The story goes on to this day, but I don't want to write too much about the aftermath of "that night", since I'd be writing for too long and I want to focus on whether it was an instance of abuse. At this point, I feel a little more grounded and able to accept that what happened had sexual undertones. I am still full of shame and guilt. I did consent to some of the touching. I'm not certain I wanted to, but it is something I did. That would usually make me think this is a consensual encounter and that I simply regret it now, but there are many factors that also contribute to my belief that this could potentially be an instance of abuse too. First of all, my brother was 38 at the time. I was 20, which yes, is an adult, but still; he is my much older brother. He was already nearly an adult by the time I was born. He's been a figure of authority my whole life, even though he likes to pretend he's not. He's a little clueless when it comes to what's appropriate or not in social contexts, but I do think someone his age should know better than to sneak his hand under his little sister's shirt and go up her body so much his fingers actually brush against her areola. Secondly, I am neurodivergent, though I hadn't told him at the time. However, when I did tell him, he said he already had suspicions. Regardless of that, I've always been quiet and withdrawn, so it upsets that he initiated touching under the guise of innocent affection and then expected me to be able to express my discomfort when it escalated without him specifying it was going to. I don't think his form of seeking consent was productive at all either. He only asked me if two specific touches were okay, and only after starting to do them. He didn't ask for explicit permission for anything but the cuddling at the start. What I want to say is that I was vulnerable. I am young, inexperienced, autistic, and he has always been an emotional support and almost parental figure to me. I don't know how he can be so naive as to think he doesn't have any power over me. Maybe he does know that, but wasn't thinking at the time. I still don't get why he would touch me like that. I find a little solace in thinking that maybe I didn't have any control over it after all. But I don't know. Maybe I did. I am an adult after all. And I do believe he would have stopped if I had told him to. But I definitely never gave any enthusiastic consent. I feel betrayed. I feel lost. I feel angry. I feel sad. I've been avoiding thinking about it for months. Tonight, it all came back to me once more and I broke down again. I truly don't know what to do. I don't want to tell anyone close to me what happened because I am ashamed. I certainly don't want to tell my parents. I kind of want to cut ties with him, but at the same time I don't because I truly believe he is remorseful about it and I don't want to make him sad. I can't help being naive. I don't know if that's comforting, or embarrassing.

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.

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.

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

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

I grew up homeless and in foster care in two separate states and was trafficked for many years: I want to impress upon people that true equity begins with giving people the resources and space to share their lived experience. Redistributing power to the Survivors allows them to influence better evidence based practice forward, lets them know they are not alone, gives them places to heal, and the opportunity to take something negative and oftentimes, horrific: and shine a light on a new path for children who are currently struggling with their own victimization. Survivors have the expertise to provide solutions that work in real time to protect children.

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

It was a cold snowy winter night just before the COVID shutdown spread across the country. I was attending the second-year graduate school class reception with a group of friends from the second-year graduate class. My "date" as my invitation to attend that class's event was really someone everyone knew was in a committed long-distance relationship and just using the extra ticket as a fun excuse to invite me as friend. It was a fun time to explore a historic mansion while having food and wine. An hour later, as it was about to conclude, one of the second-year's partners turns to me and tells me she would really like to meet me at a bar, and a group of people from that class are planning to go there. I turn to my "date" and we both agree to go. We drove to the vintage bar, one I never had been to before. I walk in through the snow and ice in my black high heels in a cocktail dress covered by my winter jacket, trying my best not to trip. A cocktail and a few conversations among classmates of my "date" later, I find myself in the corner chatting with the person who invited me to the bar from the reception. Something seemed off from the start of the conversation -- and it only got worse. The 30-something-appearing cis woman was a faculty member, yet seemed to serial date younger, new students at the same professional school -- a fact a classmate mentioned in passing with an eye-roll earlier. The one-to-one conversation with me appeared to go in circles, with her repeating the same stories over and over again without realizing that she was doing so. Awkward conversation, but it would just be a temporarily annoyance, my thought was. Yet it took an even more bizarre turn. She kept getting closer to closer to me as she was talking. At one point, she touched my shoulder, ostensibly to make a comment about how she liked my dress. She was mentioning her professional expertise and connections in the field I was, and still am, most interested in entering. She then started asking me awkward questions about how I was visibly trans, and then mentioned as a complete non-sequitur how she was the dominant "masculine" partner in her relationship. And then, to my horror, I noticed her abruptly lifting the bottom of my dress up and reaching underneath my dress to attempt to grope either my inner thigh...or worse. This wasn't just a slight motion; her hand was fully underneath my dress and moving fast upwards, from what I could clearly see from the brief glimpse I took. I immediately stepped backwards with a wide-eyed look on my face, in total disbelief of what just happened...and what did not happen that was mere seconds away from fully happening. She turned away in a hurry and walked back to her partner at the bar -- who was oblivious to what just happened -- grabbed him by the arm, and made an excuse to request to leave. This was not the first time I had experience attempted or completed sexual assault. Just like when I experienced rape the year of my college graduation, during a different cold winter night years earlier, I remember feeling puzzled, confused, and very much *not* wanting to put a label on what just happened to me. The events of each night leading up to the sexual assault always seem so random and not predictable as they are happening, but in retrospect, it is so easy to attempt to scrutinize every detail as a possible warning sign of what was to come. Yet I do not even want to think about the likely reality that the attempted sexual assault I experienced that night seemed to happen due to being visibly trans. When people think of post-traumatic stress disorder from an evolutionary perspective, it is typically thought of as an adaptive way to avoid situations of future danger. But when you're scared of social events and comments about personal identity, just think of how unpredictable the healing journey is.

Over 2 years on and I’m only realising the impact of what I’ve been through. I was 19, just had my heart broken by a cheater after being together for number long years. So of course when this guy said he’d buy me a drink I took it, danced with my friends at a local festival with my home only being a 5 minute walk away. He found me in the nightclub later on and asked me to go for a walk, and I agreed. I left the nightclub and first thing made it clear, all I want is to talk and most I’ll do is kiss you and he said that was perfectly okay, he offered me some of his drink and I had a few sips. We talked and talked, we sat down on a flat rock and had some laughs and shared some kisses when things started to change. A lot happened, a lot that I asked him to stop doing, my mind felt fuzzy and I felt numb. At one point I couldn’t move and could barely breathe, there were a few moments where I wasn’t sure what he was doing to me, or if he was recording it. I’m not religious but I prayed that I wouldn’t be found dead the following day, I didn’t want my parents to lose their baby at only 19. I don’t know how I got out of the situation, but I did. And I rang my friends straight away, was hysterical and guards found me. I ended up going to the hospital to the sexual assault treatment unit and the women were lovely but that has traumatised me. It was the only time I was ever in hospital and there I was alone. Every day for over 2 years it comes into my mind at least a few times. It happened in the month and in month I started college, I sought college therapy but I’m not sure how much it helped. I disassociate a lot and my emotions are easier to switch off now, but every few hours that night plays into my head. I felt as if I had the worst beginning to college, but I also felt that it was a new chapter and a new experience. I struggled with alcohol abuse for a while and I wasn’t scared to say no to drugs. Thankfully that only lasted a few months. I hit some really bad lows, but I’ve also turned from a caterpillar into a butterfly in a sense. That Christmas I cried, I cried because I was glad to be alive. That I survived what he did to me, and I also survived my mind. But him in my mind still affects me to this day at 21 and a half. I haven’t gone to RCC as I’ve always felt this shame and guilt, I feel very alone as none of my friends were supportive and the news broke out the day after it happened across my small town, and having that victim blaming comments or remarks “like oh wasn’t he apparently younger” going around made it even harder to talk about or the “it wasn’t that bad and it could’ve been worse”, yes it could’ve been worse but it is the worst thing I’ve experienced. I have reached out to therapists and I am considering visiting the rape crisis centre as I have been struggling these 2 years really, I’m happy and have a brave face but that night intrudes and invades my thoughts an awful lot. I’ve also been struggling with my sexual life, after the incident I slept with a lot of people most of it which I can’t remember. And I regret it and feel so much guilt and shame, especially when people ask “oh what’s your body count” well I never tell and I never will as it’s my business. But even after I calmed down, I either get attached easily or I run away, and then feel the shame and guilt around sex, believing that I rushed in. I’m slightly better, but reading these stories reminds me I’m not alone and that I won’t be judged by others and people willing to help. I hope one day, I can feel “normal” again and live the rest of my life as any young woman should.

I was about 5/6 the first time it happened. I had no idea what was going on I just knew I felt weird.. deep in my stomach.. that gut wrenching feeling I would get before my parents would line us up for swats. It started with him being a little touchy and "accidently" walking in on me while I was showering/ changing then he got more and more handsy until finally he trapped me in the basement one day. He managed to pin me on the ground and lifted up my dress; before I knew it he had ripped my underwear and was touching me. It felt like an eternity had passed as I laid there motionless and crying, but a few minutes later he kissed my cheek, told me he was going to think about this later and that this was our little secret game as he helped me up; he was turned on with the biggest smile on his face. A few days later I was doing the laundry in the basement, bent over to pick up the clothes and drop them in the washer. He took this as a good opportunity to play "our secret game"; before I could do anything, I was pinned against the washer, he ripped my shorts and underwear down and next thing I knew he was fully inside me this time. I screamed out in pain as he jammed into me repeatedly so he covered my mouth.. I was so scared and confused. I felt the blood dripping down my legs and I was in so much pain I felt like I was going to be sick. Finally, after a few minutes it was over, and he let me go. I bent down to pull my shorts and underwear back up when I saw the blood on my legs. So many thoughts ran through my head, and I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't bring myself to make a sound. He used one of the towels I was about to wash to clean the blood off of himself then tossed it at me for my legs. He raised his hand to wipe the tears from my cheek and I flinched. "What's wrong? You don't like our little game?" I was so sore for a few days; hardly able to sit or walk. I struggled to get the blood stains out of my clothes. It felt like I was dreaming.. that I was going to wake up from this bullcrap nightmare at any moment, but I never did. The soreness I felt after he was done with me went away with time, but I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact this was happening. Is this normal? Do other brother's and sister's do this? This continued for years; he would trap me in any places he could, and it felt like it took longer and longer each time. I decided at the age of 9/10 I had had enough and tried to tell my mother what my brother was doing to me. As bad of a mother as she was I thought she would still protect me when it came down to it, but I was soooo very wrong.. after all he was her favorite. The words she said to me will be forever engraved in my brain, "You can either let this ruin his life or you can move on. This doesn't seem like an issue you should let ruin your brother’s life." From that moment on I felt like it was my fault he was doing this so I kept my mouth shut in fear that no one else would believe me or that people would blame me if they did. He used this to his advantage and would play the game any chance he could even blackmailing me "I won't tell mom if you let me.." or he would take things from me like my homework and withhold them until I "played" and even then he would make me do extra things before he'd give it back. He pinned me down to the dining room table, hand gripping a chunk of my hair tight enough he pulled some out, covered my mouth so I couldn't scream for help and went so hard he bruised my hips.. I couldn't sit/ bend my body for a few days after that. Everywhere in that house was full of reminders that my body wasn't mine. It wasn't just forcing me to have sex either, he would force me to give him blow jobs/ hand jobs and randomly pin me against things and grope me just to prove he could any time he wanted. If my parents weren't home and we were watching something that had a sex scene in it (or if it wasn't on already he would put something on) he would openly touch himself to it in front of me.. it truly was a game for him. I would sit on the shower floor for hours with the water as hot as it would go, scrubbing my skin raw, but I never felt clean enough. No matter what I did or how hard I tried I couldn't wash him off of me.. I became so numb to it because it was happening at least weekly, but sometimes daily that I thought that was all I was good for was my body and what people could do to it. After a while I had opened up to my first girlfriend about it my freshman year of high school and started to feel like maybe I wasn't at fault. I never told anyone the full extent of what he had done and been doing to me because I felt dirty and ashamed for letting it happen to me. Talking about it, even just a little bit gave me some comfort though; no one could truly understand how I felt because they hadn't gone through it themselves, but them just listening and making me feel heard was comforting. Somehow it got out at school and CPS was called again (they had previously been called for physical abuse I endured from my parents; mostly my mother and they didn’t even bother to investigate when she gave me a black eye) along with my mother to the school. I thought it was weird, but made my way down.. when I rounded the corner, I could hear her voice, and I froze in my tracks. There's that feeling again.. Sure enough, when I walked through the front office doors I could see a group of people in the conference room; my principle, my counselor, the school phycologist I had been seeing for "sessions" like a therapist (although I never told her about this because she told my mother EVERYTHING) two CPS workers and my mother. As my gaze met with my mother’s I began to feel like my stomach was going to fall out of my butt at any moment and she just stared at me with those soulless eyes she always looked at me with. Of course, she remembered we were at the school, plastered on a big smile on and greeted me like I was her precious baby who she missed so much. "Do you know why we've called you down here?" I just sat there silently with tears rolling down my cheeks while the adults talked like I wasn't there. When it finally came out "what exactly did you say your brother has been doing to you?" all I could do was look at my mother, crying and saying, "I didn't say anything I promise!" I never said the rumors weren't true or that he never did anything I only ever said "I didn't say anything" and yet no one noticed they just saw a child crying hysterically, listened to my mother and blew it off that I was being dramatic and looking for attention. Somehow my father never found out about any of this and there was no further investigation, no examinations and no reports.. this was the SECOND time CPS failed me. He continued to do this to me until I got kicked out at 18 (or as my mother likes to say that I ran away) because instead of going back when she told me I could I stayed out. The first time I chose to have sex at the age of 16 I not only did it with someone I didn't love, but I had to get high to do it. When I got home, I sat on the floor of the shower, with it as hot as it would go and just sobbed while the water ran over my back. I thought it would be different if I wanted to do it, that I would like it, and it would make me feel better, but I hated it and mentally I couldn’t take it. I was self-harming in more ways than one and made several attempts on my life.. but any time I was with someone, or someone flirted with me I threw my body at them because I thought that's all I was good for and all anyone truly wanted. I was high most of the time, especially when I had sex, and I really didn’t care what happened to me anymore. Then I met my husband when I was 18.. the wonderful man that he is; we’ve been together 15 years, married for going on two and he’s healing something he didn’t break and makes me feel safe. There's a fire that burns within me that is fueled by so much anger.. I will forever be changed by what my brother did to me and for the lack of protection from someone who should have protected me, but chose to protect my abuser instead. I’ve spent years battling my own mind trying to stay here in spite of them; I still struggle with my self- harming in pretty much all the ways I used to along with other attempts on my life and constantly wanting to end it/ feeling like my boys deserve better than me. This is the first time I've ever fully told anyone about what he did.. not even my husband knows the full story because I didn't want to burden him with the weight of my pain. This pain has been weighing on my soul all my life and I just can't take it anymore; I'm drowning in it. I've blamed myself for so long and I feel so alone.. I feel like I'm damaged goods, like I'm broken. So, I've come here as a 30 something year old, with the encouragement and support of my therapist and my amazing husband to tell my story.. grammatical/ spelling errors and all. I wish to break the generational trauma for my son, so he never has to heal from his childhood and to heal from what’s left me broken; My boys deserve the best version of me. Even though it will probably never be seen by anyone but me, this is me taking back my power from him.. weather it ruins his life or not because he deserves to lay in the bed he made. I may never get justice for his actions and I'm not even really sure what that would look like for me, but I'm a survivor none the less. Thankfully I'm learning day by day that what he did to me wasn't my fault it was his (partly my mother’s for letting it continue) and that I deserved so much better. I didn't deserve any of this. I deserved a mother that believed me, loved me and protected me when I needed it. I deserve to heal, be loved and feel happiness. Most of all I deserved to be able to keep my innocence..

What would you know? It's a question that was directed at me by someone who never considered that sexual violence could pertains to men as victims. This is what I know: What would I know? How do I even begin To talk aboit what I know About how I learned Too much, too soon Held in and on For far too long What do I know? I know that you never, ever, No matter how hot the water Or abrasive the cloth Will ever feel clean Even if you wipe until you bleed I know that your body My body, will never be your own My own That some part of it No matter the healing Will always remember Being forced to share itself But sharing is the wrong word Because sharing is given Not taken with force I want to say invasion But that sounds too Clinical Polluted, that's it You, I feel polluted. Its just in one small, dark corner now When it used to pervade Everything Every taste, every joke Every public shower And locker room Every smile, scalding touch And mention of intimacy But healing does that It shrinks the poisonous sludge Of memory Until there's almost none of it left And you, we, can live Not just survive But on certain days Anniversaries, birthdays On odd days when someone else Learns what it means to feel like you Me And we cry in the soft darkness Of our own beds Horribly alone yet never truly alone Because it never left They never leave. To take the finger from my lips I have learned to stop hating To understand their brokenness I am afraid of the dark and more afraid Of the light But only in giving voice to the feelings Can I shape them And in shaping them I give limits To the memories that created them And in doing so I take the shards Of who I was and might have been Putting pieces of me back together Alongside those I imagine into being The potential to be anyone I choose Has become the reality Of who I am What would I know? I know surviving is only an opportunity I know living is something else entirely I know that secrets are pervasive and corrosive I know that I carry fears within me And that gives me comfort because I will always be bigger than they are. And I know, I know, I know In my soul of soul of souls That I don't carry any of it alone anymore.

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

mum was at work and my brothers were in the garden playing football with each other as dad had sent them outside so i could watch my show. Dad and I were sitting on the sofa, I was lying on his chest and he had one arm around me (right hand, disabled one) and the other was stroking my hair (left hand). He began to put his hand near my private parts, I squirmed slightly as it was uncomfortable, he chuckled to himself and whispered to me “it was normal for a father to show his daughter some love.” So I tried to relax. eventually excused myself to the bathroom but he followed saying “he didn't want me making a mess”. When I walked in I took my trousers down and he pulled me closer to him, his grip was rough and it hurt (I yelped a bit), he began to touch my private parts and I tried getting away again as his touch was uncomfortable and his grip was still hurting. At one point he pulled his trousers down and guided my had to his private parts making me touch them, he told me he was showing me love and i believed him, he said if I touched him he would give me a treat and love me more as well so I began to do it willingly. He asked if he could take a photo of me “for some friends” and then did it anyway, not giving me a chance to reply and fight back. about a minute later, my brother called dad because he was losing and dad was annoyed. He washed his hands and went out to josh. Later he returned with some chocolate and a ‘drink’. From what I remember of the smell it was beer of some kind but as a kid I didn't notice, he did this as a reward every time. It wasn't long before dad got kicked out, I was alone with him in the kitchen. He was annoyed at me as I had tried to tell someone about him, and he was punishing me. i was trying to go to mum and he had grabbed me tightly, i was terrified, he was towering over me and i had nowhere to hide. He walk over to the side and grabbed a knife holding it to me, i began to apologize to him over and over, he made me bow to him and call him ‘master’ . He seemed to find joy in threatening me. I wanted to get away from him. That night he still attacked me and beat me but I was too afraid to scream. He ended up using the knife to cut himself on his legs while telling me it was my fault he was hurting himself because I didn't love him anymore. I offered to touch him because I wanted him to be happy again. He accepted and I did it, after that I kept offering when we were alone to keep him happy. I didn’t tell anyone about him touching me because I thought I would get in trouble for offering to touch him. When mum kicked him out I was scared he was going to kill himself because I couldn't make him happy anymore. I still feel guilty for that night as if i would have not tried to tell someone it wouldn't have happened.

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

I was raped when I was 18, just after my Leaving Cert. The man who raped me was a former partner. He had been physically abusive which had prompted me to end the relationship. Not long after it ended, he got in contact and asked to meet up to exchange items we had left at the others’ homes. I agreed, not thinking anything of it particularly. We arranged a time and agreed to go for a coffee in a spot we had often frequented as a couple. However, he was hours late turning up and looking back now, this was a huge red flag. I got into the car with him and he drove to a secluded location, incapacitated me and raped me. I will never forget the feeling of trying to prise his hands off of me and finally realising I wasn’t strong enough. It lasted nearly 4 hours and I was orally, vaginally and anally raped. He also used a foreign object during his attack. After it was over, he let me go and I walked for hours in the dark to get home. I didn’t tell a soul for days. The only medical attention I sought was the morning after pill. After about 3 days, I started to come to terms about what had happened to me, and that it wasn’t ok. That I wasn’t ok. I sought help from the SATU in Location and chose ‘Option 3’ which allowed samples to be taken and stored without a Garda present. I couldn’t speak highly enough of the care I got in SATU. They are angels. I later suffered a miscarriage at a relatively late stage in pregnancy, after finding out quite late. I eventually made a statement to Gardai and my perpetrator was arrested, although I decided at the time that I was not strong enough to allow the case to go to court. I suffered hugely at that time with symptoms I have now come to understand were PTSD and depression, and even considered taking my own life. But I accessed supports and met a wonderful psychotherapist and I later repeated my leaving cert and went on to gain entry to university, where I have had such brilliant support. I was lucky to access support that made all the difference to me, and my message to anybody reading this who was affected by sexual violence is that it gets better, and you can get through it.

I am a survivor of child on child sexual abuse. this started when I was around 6, I would have sleepovers at my grandparents house with my cousin, we would often stay in the living room while our grandparents were in their room. We would have blankets and pillows set up in front of the tv, i remember the first time it happened i felt really weird, she was only a year older than me but she pulled the blanket over us and she asked if i wanted to play a game, i said yes and she grabbed my hand and pulled it into her pants and on her private part, any time we had sleepovers she would do this, after months of this she began doing the same with her hands to me, this went on for 5-6 years. i’m currently in therapy getting help for this, trying to understand it and trying to heal from this.

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

I was taken advantage of by someone who I thought was my friend. It was my first time getting drunk. What Happened After I Was Sexually Assaulted: -stress hives that lasted for two weeks after the assault -vomiting in the middle of the night for several nights -chronic pain that slowly developed and got worse. It doesn’t go away even after multiple tylenol and Aleve pills. Some nights my pelvis feels like it’s being repetitively stabbed -hating my own body and it’s natural responses/functions -intense fear of being touched -intense fear of seeing them in public -intense fear of being alone -suicidal thoughts -sexual issues. Sometimes it’s like the event is reoccurring. -feelings of being worthless -triggered by so many things on tv -lack of sleep -feeling stuck in my own life -inability to concentrate on the things I need to. Like school work. It put a hold on my life -deep distrust for people -depression -anxiety -PTSD It’s just not worth it. Consent matters.