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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.

You Are Not Alone You are not alone. So many of us had so much taken from us by people who put pleasing their basal urges over our sanity. For their moments of bliss and dominance we suffer. We blame ourselves for their sickness. THEIR pathology. There is an army of us. That is what these stories teach us. They show us we are legion. We are strong. Our psychological reactions of fear, mistrust, hatred are not crazy. They are normal. It is also normal, but not easy, to climb out the darkness together. I grew up in a large low income black of flats that was like a village. My mum worked and we went about by ourselves. In the winter we were never expected to be seen if we left. We were in some flat mucking about with some kids or neighbor, and it all worked out fine. I did lose my virginity when I was eleven to a friend of my older brother who was in year ten. But that was no bother because it was not uncommon there, sadly. I am half Brazilian on my absent father’s side and was considered quite exotic and fit. My secondary sexual characteristics developed early. I was reasonably careful and in control. True abuse began years later when we moved out to a proper house with HIM. HE was my mom’s dream man. HE was fit for a middle-aged man. By that time my brother wasn’t with us because he took work in Alaska on a fishing boat. HE was ex-Army and seemed like a good man at first. I was a bit of trouble maker and over-cheeky and my mom gave HIM carte blanche to discipline me like father. We weren’t there the length of a full season when HE started treating me like a tart. The spanking part mom knew about and thought it was funny, even with me being fifteen. HE spanked my bare bum even when she was home. She said I’d always needed a man’s hand to block of my rough edges. It was cringe, humiliating, but nothing compared to what HE did when mum was away. Not to get detailed, HE soon got to a point where I was going to get HIS load whenever there was the chance. Since HE got to set my schedule he made sure there were regular chances. It was my HELL and HE was the Prince of Darkness. He was rough but careful not to leave any marks. Unless time was short I had to shower first. Sometimes after there would be something specific sitting out to wear, like a costume or lingerie, or my netball kit. The grating anticipation of what was going to follow was the real torture. HE would tell me to “Pick a hole”. My holes! My foof was one, my mouth was two, and you’d think I would never select three. But you’d be wrong. I hated HIM. I am very sensitive sexually and if I went with one I looked like I loved it and if I chose two I was doing work to please HIM. Three was the way I could shut down and brace myself without him ever seeing me smile, even if I was facing toward him. When I was strong with hatred I would choose three. I compartmentalized that small but brutal part of my life for my mum. If was a mere thirty to one hundred twenty minutes per a week of 10080 minutes. And I saw no other way then. Mum, for the first time was living a happy life. I could have won a BAFTA for how I seemed so cozy and content for her. It gutted me that my fear of upsetting HIM made it appear that HE had smoothed out my rough edges and made me into a proper lady. I kept my marks up and stayed on the netball team in spite of being the shortest. I kept going. I developed a habit of stabbing mechanical pencil tips into my skin and biting my nailbeds to illicit pain. I had one boyfriend for a short time. I went to the dances. Home was my hell so I did everything HE would allow to be anywhere else. I could not work but he made my mum keep her job so he could have me. My birthdays I would get my way of having a just girls’ night out with mum. There were only two birthdays before I got free of him. College cost 1000 pounds and when HE paid it HE did not know I was not going to be his tart anymore. I had a friend with a home much closer to my school. They had spare bedroom because an older sibling had moved out. Being seventeen, HE couldn’t force me to live with them if I had other safe accommodations. I took employment and paid the meager rent. He got me one more time when I was sleeping back at his house on Christmas eve. Probably drugged mum to keep her sleeping. I made sure he never got a chance again. Through my Portuguese class I met a man who lived in Portugal and invited me to come stay with him as long as I wanted rent free. I finished one year of sixth form and went to Portugal. I had fleeting relations with the man I stayed with but he traveled often we both had our own things. I worked at an American-themed restaurant as a server then. I spoke with my mum on the phone most days. She visited once, with HIM. I missed her and tried not to show much of my sorrow about being forced apart from her. Seeing HIM was horrendous, yet I kept it contained inside like a cancer. It helped solidify my decision. I traveled with a friend to Florida and got a job serving in a posh restaurant. I applied for a work VISA and on my second try I got it. I am thirty-eight now. Only three years ago did I confront my demons because I read online stories about other abuse survivors. It opened up a deep wound so I could start to heal. It was and still is hard work and an ongoing process. I confessed to my mum who had split with HIM after years of her own abuse that she also kept hidden. HE had let her go when she started having health problems, showing his true black heart. She lives with my brother and his family. I regret losing years with mum and my brother and being chased away from my home when I was young but it made me stronger. I have never married but I have a loving partner, two dogs and I speak three languages. I am a physical trainer and work near the beach where I go to meditate and body surf. Our journeys and stories are individual but we are in this together. Worldwide. You are not alone in carrying the pain and the shame and the fear and the flashbacks! Even if you are in the dark, start toward a path that looks like others are using to try to climb out. Use the resources, even if just right there on your computer, and build from there. Just start and keep climbing, especially when it seems too hard.

Im still trying to heal through all of my issues, I stay isolated and quiet and find it hard to make friends sometimes. my story started years ago as a lil boy my my older cousin always kept touching on me and laughed it off until he took me upstairs and told me how good it would feel to me. I later cried and told family in front of him he laughed and they laughed but at least it stopped . other cousins would tell what happened to me to there friends making it awkward to be around people. but with time people forgot. fast forward 3 or so years i'm nine at least I think ,and my older female cousin tells me im pretty I should stop being shy she would show me how to have sex and be a ladies man. well she did but it didn't end there her and a friend of hers set me up with a girl my age and watched me have sex a few times with her until I got old enough to stay home by myself . today I much older but very hyper sexual and long story short my past has caused a lot of my problems. it feels good to finally tell somebody.

when I was younger I was assaulted by a 15 year old boy, this led to me being very hypersexual at a young age, because of the emotion I had associated with my assault . He had told me it was a "game". This led to me assaulting my younger brother at the age of 4. I feel so guilty and I can't stop reliving the past even going to the extent of looking at my past mistakes and reliving them. I feel immense guilt and I have paired it with this feeling. I don't know if it is arousal or if I am just very aware of my private parts but every time I even think of me being aroused that way I feel like a pedophile, and I want to vomit is this a normal reaction???

I didn't know what I was being asked to do. I was 6 years old. I didn't realize what had happened to me until recently. I tried to walk out of the room but I was manipulated into staying. He was my cousin. I didn't think he would use me. I didn't know what he did was wrong until about 1 year ago. It disgusts me to be around him. I have always felt for SA survivors, without knowing that I was one myself. I have taken the path of healing silently. Knowing my experience I know that there are children that are affected by this every day. I hope that by sharing my story, I can help young children know what is happening to them.

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,

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.

HOW I STARTED MY HEALING JOURNEY by Name My healing journey began after I spent five years in a narcissistically abusive relationship. It was a constant cycle of hot and cold, back and forth, until I finally got sick of the bullshit and chose to walk away for good. In the beginning, I simply sat with my feelings. I reflected on everything I’d endured and allowed my emotions to flow naturally. It’s easily one of the hardest parts of the process, but you have to let those feelings out for the healing to begin. I then moved on to one of the scariest tasks: breaking down my past. When we look at our trauma as one giant mountain, it just feels like a jumbled mess of chaos. By identifying each experience as its own separate event, it becomes much easier to process. To get these thoughts out of my head, I put them on paper. If you’re starting this journey, get a notebook and write down everything as it comes up. Use it as your primary tool. I began with my most recent experience of narcissistic abuse. I dove into podcasts and articles, desperate to understand what had happened to me and how it was affecting my mental health. Once I understood the 'what,' I started researching the 'how'—as in, how do I heal from this? That’s when I discovered the connection to childhood trauma. It’s a major key to the puzzle because we carry those early experiences into our adult lives. There is so much information available; you just have to find the pieces that fit your life. Healing is deeply individual, and you get to choose the path that works best for you."

On the morning of Friday 13, [My best friend/his wife] asked if I'd come over to watch [child] that night so I did. She went to bed around 4 PM and it was just him, [child], and I there besides her at the time. [Their roommate couple] was at work and [couples baby] was at his grandmother's. We got Plateful for dinner at around 5:30 PM, per my request for Chinese when he asked what I wanted for dinner. On the way back from picking up the food, he started asking a very personal question. He asked "how long has it been since you were eaten out?" I stayed silent but then said I didnt want to answer that but he kept asking. Silence. He started guessing "1 year?" "2 years?" "3 years?" "4 years?" "5 years?" I finally answered "yeah" when he said 5 years. He said that would change tonight and I said "No it won't, I'm fine, nothing is going to happen." He persisted and said that he "promised" something would and I kept disagreeing until we got back to the house. I made [childs] plate and he brushed really close behind me in the kitchen so I rushed to go sit down on the couch (a large sectional, I sat in the corner) with her food and my food. We all ate and I put on "The Babysitter" as something to watch. He made a few remarks that I can't remember but I do remember saying "If you want some Nookie go wake up your wife". After we got done eating, I played with [child] and he got really close and started playing with her too. I was tickling her and we were playing when he started to tickle me too, which I found strange but not harmful. (My pants kept sliding from me moving around and I had to pull them up a lot. He took notice.) This preceded until he sent [child] to bed at 7 PM, which was weird because her bedtime wasn't until 8. But he's her dad so I wasn't questioning it. I put on "The Babysitter: Killer Queen" because I wanted to watch the second movie and he agreed. Then he started saying that his hands were cold and started putting them in my left jean pocket and in my shirt. Anywhere close to me, really. He took his hand out of my shirt but kept the other in my pocket and I kept asking for my pocket back but he'd just say "my pocket" so I thought it was a joke, a weird joke, but still it seemed like a joke. I continuously told him that it was my pocket and he kept repeating thatit was his. I tried to pull his hands out of my pocket and told him to stop and give me my pocket when he started to reach for the other pocket too. Every time I tried to pull his hands away he gripped down really tight into a fist with my pocket fabric in the middle of his hand. I physically could not get his hands off of me. I was already starting to feel uncomfortable but I didn't wanna seem rude or make him upset. He's a big guy and easily overpowers me. He put his hand in my right pocket too at first then we turned toward the movie and he removed it. After a minute He tried to put his hand back in my right pocket too but he ended up pulling the front of my pants open and putting his hand there instead. I said "[his name] stop that's not a pocket" with wide eyes. I know my eyes were wide, I could feel it. He said "even better" then his hand moved into my panties and touched my vagina. He said "Ooh and its shaved". I felt sick to my stomach thinking what was going to happen and I told him "no" and tried to pull his hands out again. He wasn't budging. He moved the blanket I had on off of me and pulled the front of my pants down to see the area above my vagina. He bit my thigh and then put his mouth on said area. He started moving more into my space and looked expectantly at me. I didn't want to fight him and I didn't want to upset him. "No" and "Stop" weren't working. So I started to pretend I liked it to make it go by faster. I pulled my pants down around my thighs to make it seem like I was enjoying it and he moved between my legs and starting licking and biting down there. I looked away from him and closed my eyes really tight. He kept trying to push my legs open wider and it hurt because of my jeans so I look my left leg out of my jeans and spread my legs apart more so he would stop pushing. It felt so wrong. I was trying not to cry at this time. He finished up after about 30 seconds of me faking moans and even faking an orgasm to get him to stop faster. He came up, I immediately pulled my pants up and he said "I promised that's all I'd do to you". He then said "your pussy tastes good" and grabbed me by the neck and shoved his tongue into my mouth. I tried to kiss back to make him satisfied but I ended up just laying there and taking his tongue. I felt like a ragdoll, being used. When he stopped kissing me, I pulled the blanket back over me to shield myself a little bit. He moved and sat on the other end of the couch at first and asked me to come cuddle him. He kept saying "come here" and patting the couch in between his legs. When I refused, he asked what was wrong then came back over into my space. I said that I felt bad and guilty to try and get him to feel guilty too. He said "Shhh" and put his hand into my pants again. I tried to divert his attention back to the movie but it wouldn't work and he put his head in the way of the TV so I couldn't see. I tried again to pull his attention to the movie again to no avail. He then started fingering me, and he lifted my shirt and bra up and took my left nipple into his mouth. Again, I pretended to like it. I thought it would make it go by faster if I pretended to orgasm fast. He finished and made me taste myself on his fingers. Then we watched the movie for a bit and I pulled my hoodie over my face to hide. We commented on the movie a bit. He tried to get me to come cuddle or something with him again but I shook my head no. Then he stood up, came over to me, and spread my legs and layed between them and pressed himself on me. He then moved back to the side of me and unbuttoned my pants and fingered me again. I pretended to like it. He kissed me again and I just didn't even try this time. I just layed there again, with my mouth open and my eyes shut. When he was done he said "don't tell anyone about this" and said that I wouldn't and I told him he could never ever mention a "tip" ever again and I said that this would be "a one night only thing because [hes] satiated now" in the hope's he would agree and never do it again. He said he wasn't satiated. (The "tip" he mentions was one day months ago we went to get pizza and I rode with him and he handed me the pizza and he asked for a tip, I made a joke and pretended to pull my shirt up and flash him. He's been making sexual jokes towards me since.) Anyways, he said "maybe I won't, at least not with her around" and he pointed to the bedroom where his wife was sleeping because she had to be at work at 11 PM. He asked me to come over near him where I was leaning on him and then he asked how long I had been wanting that to happen. I stayed silent, because I didn't ever want that to happen. He asked again and he said "come on, I know you thought about it. How long had you wanted it to happen?" I never thought about it not even once but I didn't want to make him upset so I said "I didn't think that would ever happen" hoping it was enough. It wasn't. He asked again, "so how long?" I lied again. I told him that I wanted it "the past couple times" I mumbled it hoping it would be a good enough answer this time. I moved off of him and got back in my spot. He smiled and tried to hold my hand but after about 2 seconds I let go of his hand and he moved back to the other side of the couch again and asked me to come over there to him for a second time, I declined again. (Sidenote: Throughout him fingering me he kept making me face him when I'd try to look away, he'd pull my hoodie down when I tried to hide my face. I would try to close my legs a few times while he was fingering me too so that he might stop but then he'd force my legs apart again and tell me to keep them spread.) (Somewhere in here he made a joke about him having something that spits or is like a fountain. Something alone those lines, referring to his penis. I didn't want it to escalate any further so I was hoping he wouldn't try to make me touch it or god forbid suck it. I feel sick even thinking about it.) It was then exactly 9:27 PM, a few minutes after he finished and he had sat away from me again, and I said I needed to go to the bathroom. I got up and went toward him because I have to go past where he's sitting in order to make it to the bathroom. He told me to come here tilted his head for a kiss and help my arm while I bent down to give him one. The tried to pull me in his lap but I told him to let me go to the bathroom and he let me go. I made it to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet to use it. I immediately pulled my phone out of my hoodie to text my other best friend what had happened. She told me what he did was raping me. I knew it was but I didn't ever believe he would do that and I felt heartbroken because he used to be a friend that I trusted. She told me I needed to tell [my best friend/his wife] and I agreed that I wanted to but I didn't want it to seem like I was just trying to ruin her marriage or her to think I was just sleeping with her husband. I did plan on keeping quiet. He knocked on the door and asked if I was pooping and I said yes, which was a lie, I just didn't want to go back out there. I stayed in the bathroom until around 9:50 PM when I felt like the pooping story wasn't believable anymore. I sat back down on the couch and tried to play on my phone and text my other best friend but I didn't want him to know that I told anybody do I ended up putting it down. [My best friend/his wife] got up for work shortly after, he went into the bedroom with her. She came out with her uniform on and asked me "how did you get his ass to agree to chinese?" I said "he asked what I wanted, I said Chinese" she then kissed me on the cheek and left for work. She had agreed to let me keep her phone while she was at work because their dog chewed their remote up and she had a remote on her phone and I didn't have space to download the app for the remote on my phone. So she left without her phone, because I had it. I didn't tell her what happened yet because he was still awake, and now I couldn't text it to her. As soon as she walked out the door, he ran to the window on the door make sure her truck left the driveway then looked at me and asked "do you wanna go fuck?" I shook my head no and he asked "why, you don't want to finish again?". He had a smirk on his face. I shook my head no again and he said "alright then I'm going to bed". He went to bed and a few minutes later, [roommate couple and baby] got home. I'm also [babys] babysitter so they were confused why I was there and I told then I was last minute supposed to watch [child] but didn't really watch her so I was there for no reason basically. They handed me [baby] and I had him until around 1:30 AM because he refused to sleep. They took him to bed around then and I fell asleep around 2 AM while watching YouTube. I woke up abruptly at 5 AM with the urge to charge my phone since I hadn't the night before. I went to the bathroom, then ate a sugar donut(came with Chinese food from the night before) from the fridge. And I layed down and covered up on the couch again. A few minutes later, around 5:15 AM I heard the bedroom door handle and I pretended to be asleep with my eyes barely cracked open so I could see. He walked to the door and looked out the window in his same shorts from the night before. He went back to his room and I opened my eyes then shut them again knowing he was gonna come out to go to work soon. He had his work uniform on when he came out next and he sat directly beside me thinking I was asleep. I was laying on my side and he moved the blanket off me, pulled on the button on my jeans, unzipped them, and stuck his hand in my pants again. I squirmed to make it seem like I was just waking up and then stopped and pretended to sleep again in a different position. His hands never stopped. Finally I knew I couldn't pretend to sleep through the whole thing so I opened my eyes and pretended I was grumpy that I got woken up. He asked me to turn over and I layed my head down again after shaking it no and grumbled. He asked what was wrong and I said that I was tired. He didn't stop. He kept going and I said that I was sleepy again. He finally took his hand away and said "alright well go to sleep then, button your pants back first". So I buttoned them, zipped them and layed down again with my eyes closed until he left and I heard him pull away in his truck. I stood up and ran to the bathroom and texted my other best friend again what had just happened. I stayed awake after that crying and I plugged in [my best friend/his wife's] phone in the bedroom for a bit because I needed it to watch tv. It charged enough I could then watch YouTube on the tv to calm my nerves. Around 7:30 AM, [my best friend/his wife] came home from work, took of her jacket and put her keys up and asked me what was wrong. I told her nothing at first, but she's known me for 10 years. So she knew something was wrong by the way I looked. I was curled up with my face in my hoodie and avoiding eye contact. I didn't mean to be so obvious that something was up. I thought I was trying to hide it. I kept shaking my head but she persisted and I broke and started crying and told her that it was [his name] but I couldn't tell because he would be mad and he would hate me. She got really serious and told me that she didn't care if he was mad or not, I needed to tell her. I told her a short summary of what happened and she hugged me and told me it wasn't my fault. I still feel like it was. I kept apologizing and by now I was sobbing. She got up, put on her jacket again and went towards the door. I asked where she was going. She said she had to cool down before she shot him. She went out the door and I went to the window to watch what she was doing and she came back and grabbed her keys off the hook again and told me she'd be back. She left and I watched her location on life 360. She went to their work (they work at the same place, different schedules). She came back a short time later and I asked what happened. She said "a lot" then her ringtone went off and she picked up and said "don't come anywhere near this house right now" so I knew it was him. Then I heard his truck and I started freaking out and I went to get up and she told me to stay inside. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in with my phone. I heard him leave but didn't hear her come back in so I checked life 360 to see that they left together so I came out of the bathroom. I watched youtube on my phone for almost an hour while watching life 360 too. I saw she was moving back toward the house so I grabbed all my belongings and ran to the bathroom again. She came back in but I could hear him too. She knocked on the door but I didn't open it until I heard her voice and I made her close the bathroom door back so I didn't see him. She told me he was in the bedroom and wasn't coming out and that I was safe to come in the living room. We stayed in the bathroom for a minute and I was still crying and she was crying to and we made jokes about it because that's how we both cope. She said that he wanted to apologize but I couldn't even look at him, I still can't. A picture of him made me cry before we left her house. He didn't think he did anything wrong except for cheating until she confronted him. She kept trying to get me to let him apologize because he didn't want me to leave when I'm feeling this way but I couldn't do it. I can't see him again. [Child] woke up and [me best friend/his wife] left her with me and went to the bedroom with him. I fixed [child] some leftovers from the night before and I ate an egg roll and a wonton. I kissed [child] goodbye and we left. As we were driving [my best friend/his wife] told me she's still thinking about leaving him and that he cried because he thought she would leave him. She said that he didn't know what he did it and that he told her he was thinking about her the whole time. Then why didn't he stop? He should have stopped. I think part of him knew I was uncomfortable. I feel like it was obvious. I never once said the word yes to him. She said he felt like his dad because I feel like this (whole other sad story about his dad). [His name] didn't feel like it was sexual assault, I do. Apparently he feels bad for that. I'm supposed to forgive him but I can't. Right now it's Tuesday the 17th and I'm still balling writing parts of this. We left with his credit card and went to Dunkin Donuts for coffee. I tried my best to act like I was okay and I think it worked. We didn't think about it for a while. We went shopping for her at a clothing store and she bought me a shirt. I know she meant well but it seems like coffee and a shirt is an ample apologizy for getting assaulted. It isn't. I tried to say his name when she took me home and I said it and hesitated and ended up just saying "him" or "he" instead. She said she's sticking by him. I have nobody on my side. I have little fits all through the day because I remember what he felt like on me and I squirm and shiver from being uncomfortable. I cry and sometimes hit something like the wall or my bed because its overwhelming. I feel like his smell is engrained in my nose. I fucking hate this. I can't even look at myself in the mirror without tearing up. I can't tell anyone. The other best friend that knows doesn't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna bring it up with [my best friend/his wife] because I feel like she just wants to forget. My parents don't know. They just know I've been cooped up in my room for almost 4 days now with very little contact. My dad would kill him if he knew what happened and I don't want my dad to go to jail. The couple (my friends) who live with us thought they did something wrong. I told them it wasn't them and they bought me chocolate and a stuffed narwhal because I've been "sad". I can't tell them what happened either. He's one of their adoptive dad. That's not fair to her. Not having anyone isn't fair to me but it isn't the first time I've had to deal with trauma alone. I'll survive. I wrote this as a journal entry to myself and I wrote it in a way it cant be traced back to me. But it's been eating me alive so I have to share it for my own sanity. I'm so fucking alone and its killing me. It will be a ago week today and I know it's early but I'm having so many mixed emotions and I don't know what to do. I've started being hypersexual and masturbating more then crying after and I don't know how to stop this can't be normal.

I would like to help women ( or men) learn that you can overcome the difficulty of leaving Domestic Violence and start life , in my case, for the 1st time I was "married" for 20 years in the DV and have been out for 13 years. It is a difficult process, but worth the effort to give yourself your life.

You hear it all over the news. You see it in films and tv shows. As women, we are often warned, and we hear comments about ‘safety in numbers’ when you go to the toilet. ‘Watch your drinks’ when out and about. ‘Don’t show that much skin, cover up’. ‘You can’t wear that.’ ‘Get a taxi home, it’s not safe to walk’… unfortunately words can not protect you from the intentions of others. I went on a night out with friends, a reunion that started off so well. I remember the dancing, the constant flow of drinks…pints, gin, vodka, sambuca to name a few. Yes, it is not ideal to mix however, when you are reminiscing, and your group had a booth with a table full of drinks; you would probably do the same! Anyway, the lights flashed, the music bounced off the walls and suddenly a trip to the loo mixed with alcohol on a busy autumn international night in Location…makes you forget what floor you left your friends on. Fast forward to the smoking area alone on the phone, where I swayed and debated leaving. “A taxi home would be safer than walking in the rain”. Before I was allowed in, I had to pay by card, he insisted on no cash. I entered the taxi behind the passenger seat in the back and it began. The looks through the rear-view mirror were instant…my memory of the journey is absent until we reach my corner. My directions at this point were now ignored but I trusted him. He parked, away from my house. He locked the car with me still inside. He looked back. “Kiss me”. He had hold of my wrists and climbed through to the back where he began to sexually assault me. I am unsure for how long this lasted but he later broke away and asked to use my toilet. This enabled me to get out of the car so…I said yes. Why I ever thought I could get into my house first in a pair of heels whilst heavily intoxicated I do not know, but even so, I looked back to see how ahead I was…even now I can see him running down that pavement to reach me at my door. In my own home, he was in control. He stole my breath, he stole my voice, he stole my body. He raped me. No one ever prepares you for an event like that, or even how to tell your parents. I went to SARC, I did the forensics and repetitive questions, and I was told it would take years of my life away if I were to take it further. So, I went back to work the following Monday as I had a responsibility to fulfil. It weighed on my shoulders. I knew there was an expectation. Many google searches informed me of my next steps…I made an anonymous complaint to the Police, and everything began to move. Everything became intense…I was living out what felt like a BBC drama. Months later he denied it in court, so we went to trial. The support I received was minimal. I was still working, taking unpaid time off. My close family and friends were those who got me through the days in court, the days in-between and the days I live now. I took away the screen during my time on the stand, I answered every insulting question and remark. I looked him in the eyes, he held eye contact for only a few seconds before breaking into a smirk; as I broke down in the stand. I was torn to pieces in front of a judge, jury and courtroom. In front of him, who proceeded to spin his web of lies which were the complete opposite to the ones he had said in his initial statement. “To be a good liar, one needs a good memory” …He was found guilty. It took 2 weeks for me to be seen as a victim and believed. Fast forward to the sentencing hearing where my main pillars of support accompanied me…I read out my victim impact statement… He got 11 years…a minimum of 8 ½. I got a lifetime sentence, anxiety, depression, dissociation, insomnia, scars and PTSD. February 2024, 2 months after the 1st anniversary; I made my 3rd attempt. A phone call from a friend pulled me back to reality, who later pulled me off the bridge. A mixture of anger, tears and confusion filled the next couple of days, and I knew I needed to take back control of my mind and body. Which is hard when his monstrous hands are imprinted, his poisonous breath echoing in and flooding my ears and the pain weighing heavy on my body. This time I had to do something different. I could not bring myself to hurt anyone else further, so I searched online. I came across The Survivors Trust and after a quick scan through what they had to offer, I instantly thought ‘why wasn’t I told about this sooner?’. Talking can feel repetitive especially when you cannot explain how exactly you are feeling…which is ok in this sense because of their ‘Survivor Resources’. They echo that everyone has a different healing journey and they have sets of resources that have been put together with the survivor in mind…whilst also having a section for those who are looking for help on how to support a survivor they love in their lives. The Survivors Trust then became an outlet for me because even though I am very much at the beginning of my healing journey, I felt responsible and motivated to raise awareness for this charity. No one should ever have to face a traumatic event like this but sadly, the actions of others are something we cannot control. Therefore, I created a Facebook page called ‘Name’ and started promoting my quiz night followed by live music and started a Just Giving Page. I never anticipated a big response; I had a goal of £1000. A goal of raising awareness for the charity, fellow victims and survivors. A goal to inform. The CSEW estimated that 1.1 million adults aged 16 years and over experienced sexual assault in the year ending March 2022 (798,000 women and 275,000 men). 15% of girls and 5% of boys have experienced sexual violence by the time they are sixteen. Every five minutes in the UK someone experiences rape, attempted rape, or sexual assault by penetration. ‘On the face of it, something has to change’ (Prima Facie, 2022). Date he was sentenced. Date 2 I raised a total of Specific amount from site.. People have different opinions on the length of time to which I will be ‘fixed’. “Sometimes, it takes a few days”. A few days, a few weeks; a few months to fully grasp what happened, to trust myself? Living in and out of my own body, not knowing when it is truly me or what is now left. The sleepless nights, the nights that repeat every detail. Every once in a while, my ears go out, ringing as I simply stare into thin air, dissociating and remembering each and every detail without speaking a word. Sometimes it only takes a smell, a name, a piece of clothing, a sound to take me back to these moments. It does not take much to remind the brain of the agony. It’s hard. I float throughout each day, each night, as each aspect of the memory replays every time, I take a second to think…no matter where or who I am with. It is currently day 630…I have finally started EMDR therapy, I am still at times in denial of the events, and I am very much at the beginning of my journey. I am beginning to understand there is no timeframe on healing and with the support of this charity, my close family and name, taking time to self-care and keeping up with my medication is all I can do for now. Everyone is different. Therefore, it is totally natural to heal and deal with trauma in different ways. I work and like to keep busy…some say to avoid/escape the flashbacks but unfortunately, they do not escape me. However, although I have tried many times not to be…I am alive, and I am going to do everything in my power to make sure things change. No one should live in the fear of not being believed. No one should be put into situations where they experience a type of sexual assault. No one should have to go through something they could not control and feel guilty for the rest of their lives. No one should feel alone. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel shame, guilt, embarrassment, regret and the list goes on but I will get there. I am alive today because of the resources and support presented on The Survivors Trust site. My journey is very much at the beginning, and I so wish I knew about this charity sooner. Therefore, this is me giving back as well as letting others know about the charity, not only the victims either…Survivors Trust helps everyone impacted. Raising Amountp is just the start of the work I will be doing for the charity. It is okay to talk, there are people who will believe, who will support in any way they can. Together we are stronger…you do not have to face this battle alone. I have recently continued to share my story and been a listening ear to others on my page Name on Instagram and Facebook. I don't want anyone to ever feel alone in their trauma, in their healing, in their journey. I am far beyond cured. My EMDR therapy has been completed but its like a bomb has gone off...I've accepted what has happened, happened. But it'll forever be part of who I am no matter how many steps forward I take. He gets out in 5 years and is then under watch for 3 years as he is eased back into society - that support has been planned for him. However, if I didn't attempt to take my life 5 times...I would never have been put forward for MH screening by my gp who then referred me for EMDR. I wasn't given any support from SARC or Victim Support - and it's honestly made me feel so defeated yet again by him. Yes, he was found guilty and went to prison in 2023 but I am the one serving the life sentence.

"The lady bug and her spots " Hello guys its me again ! :D I am the magic behind " To become A dandelion " (go check it out ! ) I would like to introduce you to a special short I wrote dedicated to my loving boyfriend, boyfriend initials. my father father initials my mother mother initials and my very best friends multiple friends initials (I wont be releasing any names due to safety of others.!) and anyone who has ever struggled, been hurt, abandoned , struggled with mental health problems grew up with a hard back ground felt alone in a cluster of people was neglected , felt unloved or hurt by a parent, domestic violence , sexual violence, rape neglect or anything else that pains a soul. This is for YOU. This is how WE GET OUR SPOTS ,. Did you know a lady bug only lives for ONE YEAR?. That's only 365 days. Now you tell me , if that lady bug knew that she or he only had ONE YEAR to live,. do you think the lady bug would curl up in a leaf ? comforted by its Veridian arms with last nights dew drops laying cuddled up from the night before ?. Do you think the lady bug would see the leaf of its past life begging it to stay close for it wishes to be safe?. Absolutely not. That lady bug is going to do anything in its efforts to SURVIVE and that's exactly what all of you have been doing, I myself included, we have given ourselves a limited amount of time and haven't realized we have our WHOLE lives to heal, and its okay if youre only on day, one.. However just like a lady bug you kept going. Regardless of the weather, you kept going now look at all of you. You literally glow,. Your wings have finally came in and its time for you to soar. You see thats what its all about, some say we earn our stripes with ever lick, every unkind word , every heartbreak, lost job or struggle with ones self,. But really its not about remembering the bad, a memory is only a thought we keep alive,. No this is about feeling the good bad and ugly and still seeing the sunshine,. Its sitting next to your bestfriend of 20 something odd years and remembering how much trouble you caused,. Its forgiveness of others after you have burned to many bridges,.. Yet they still hand you a cup of water because they love you. Its the work meetings that melt your heart because together your family is not always bonded by blood its created by so many different qualities all by others with just as many licks and just as many or maybe even more or less spots then us. But regardless we are here we are ALIVE and we have our whole lives to gain those spots. I will start with mine today,. Its not about how many spots you've got on your back,. Its about when you finally realize you're a lady bug.. just fly already,, Its time to live guys, . ITS MY TURN. ITS YOUR TURN. So please, . Go fly. Thankyou for all who have read,. and continue to support my writing,'. remember to become a dandelion you must first remember a weed is only a flower if you look at it that way,. And a lady bug is only a insect if you look at it that way,. But in a world full of roses,. Don't be afraid to stand out such as the dandelion and never be afraid to show your spots,. You never know what flowers you may attract,. <3 -sincerely yours truly author initials

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

I saw the movie tonight with my little sister. We grew up together in an abusive home, everything that Lily’s father did to her mom, our father did to ours (and even worse). He sometimes did those things to us too. From the fact that he’s still portrayed as a beloved father to many, I found consolation in the movie tonight. I realised that I’m not that child anymore, I’m safe now and most importantly, I can stop swimming now. And you also, my little sister, we can both stop swimming now. I love you.

You never think it would happen to her, but it did. Name was raped. She didn't tell us. When I learned about it, I was shocked. Who would rape a woman in intellectual/developmental disabilities? I write this narrative as my sister's co-conservator. I write this because justice has not been served and healing is a journey. Name has high support needs for her daily care. She relies on a tribe to keep her safe, healthy and happy. A man at her day program raped her when he was changing her adult underwear. The police report states that men were allowed to be alone her. One of them took advantage of her and gave her gonnorhea. She was in pain for months. We didn't know until an urgent care doctor did an STD panel. Other doctors didn't think to do this because "It doesn't happen in that populaiton." Little do they know that people with IDD have the highest rate of sexual asasult- 7x more than those without disabilities, per NPR's "Abused and Betrayed" investigative series. The facility still operates, the criminal case is still open and he is still out there- most likely caring for others. The family carries the trauma. As her sister, I have done so much over the past decade to raise the awareness, but I need help. We need more support. Link.

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.

I survived. I got out. You can too. Insidious and devious are the words I think of when I've wondered how I got trapped. My ex-spouse was so charming, everybody thought he was a great person and I did too. So much so that I decided to ignore the fact he raped me and chalked it up to us drinking. Then gradually as we dated and then married he tried to spin a web of control around me by being angry and violent when I would spend time with friends or go to the gym or go to the library to study. Telling me I was not allowed to go to the gym because there were men there. Being told I couldn't go to work events. Calling my work when I was working late and accusing me of having affairs, then being verbally and physically abusive. He was so successful at manipulating others even my dad, initially, didn't believe me when I told him about the monster and the horrible things I had endured. I finally told my dad what had been going on when he threatened to kill me and chased me with a baseball bat. I was able to get in my car and get away and called my dad crying and screaming. He thought I had lost my mind. Some of my friends also thought I had lost it, and told me oh he is so nice and scoffed when I said I was filing for divorce and a protective order. After the first two calls to the sheriff they believed me and were so kind, frequently driving by my house and making sure I was safe. There is power in being believed. There is strength in knowing that others have made it out both alive and eventually became whole. I still experience occasional flashbacks and certain situations will trigger my anxiety, but I am able to trust people again and no longer fear "being in trouble" if I spend time with friends. Even more, I have allowed myself to become emotionally vulnerable with other people again after all these years. That was a huge leap for me. And I genuinely feel like a good person again.

Hello, thank you for taking the time to read and consider Name story. First, I don’t blame Police Departmentor the state of State Namefor anything that has happened, the responsibility for this belongs completely to the state of State Name She met Friend Name 7 years ago when they were both homeless and moved to Second State Name to live with him at his mother’s property. This property is in the middle of nowhere inSecond State Name, their closest neighbors were anywhere from 30 to 60 acres away. He did this to isolate her from her social support systems, which is something many abusers do to manipulate and gain control of their victims. She didn’t know the kind of person he was until she got pregnant, after which he continually tried to emotionally manipulate her into an abortion. He had not wanted children, though he made repeated promises of a life and family to gain her trust and lure her to the property. This is a large part of his cycle, he makes these promises and lures women (typically around the age of 22) to his mother’s property where he becomes possessive, controlling, and abusive. His family knows he does this and that he’s abusive, but they do nothing to stop him and instead enable him. He had done this with a woman before her, but she had realized his true nature before becoming pregnant and fled to safety. Additionally, he is currently attempting to manipulate another 22-year-old woman from Third State Name online and is making these same promises and luring her to the property. After the baby was born, he became increasingly verbally and emotionally abusive toward her and even committed these acts in front of the child at least every other day. She was living in a constant state of fear, and he manipulated this to further isolate her and take control of her life. Once she finally got the courage to leave him, he became highly combative and began using their daughter as a weapon against her. He then manipulated a judge into giving him primary residence with joint (called shared there) custody of their daughter, though she was the one who cared for the baby every day. His mother had gotten him an attorney whileName couldn’t afford one, which is another thing common to abusers using the legal system against their victims. Unfortunately, we have yet to create protections for women who are vulnerable to this form of attack. She got her own apartment, and the child lived there over 95% of the time. He did not adhere to his responsibilities, and if she said anything about it, he would take the child and hide her fromName for a week or two as “punishment”. He would not provide for his child or look after her in any way, and this made it hard for name to complete her college coursework or make money at her job as a Grub Hub delivery driver. He would have a family that had their children taken and then given back by DHS (Third State Name's version of DCS) watch her the few times he did take her, even though they are again under DHS investigation and about to lose their children permanently. The amount of abuse and neglect it took for DHS to become involved with this family is staggering, and their four children will deal with the emotional trauma they’ve suffered for the rest of their lives. This eventually caused her to lose the apartment and made her move back in with him on his mother’s property, which was obviously the goal of his behavior because her only other choice would have been to abandon her daughter with the abuser. His aggressive behavior and demands that she cooperate with his plans got so severe that he began to rape her in her sleep if she refused his advances, and she found out later that he was put in a boarding school when he was 12 after being caught molesting a prepubescent boy. The abuse they suffered eventually caused their child to begin trying to shield her mother from it and she developed severe psychological trauma, to the point where this four-year-old would say things like “I hope my dad kills you” to her mother. She finally gained the courage to seek justice for his abuse and filed an emergency restraining order, and the judge told her that the County Sheriff and DHS would investigate the issue. However, both the Sheriff of County and DHS failed to investigate anything, despite the Sheriff being informed that there are hours of recorded abuse. So, she grabbed everything she could and came to State Name where she had a support system, and then placed a new order of protection against him. Five days later Third State Name had her violently arrested in front of the child for a fugitive Criminal Restraint by a Parent (like State Name's Custodial Interference) warrant, and according to the attorney I got in Third State Namethey are refusing to accept the Order of Protection from State Name I recently reached out to the County Sheriff’s office in response to a request for information I received from the Second County Sheriff’s office as the Order of Protection has not been served in over 30 days and was told by them that they did not need help finding Abuser's Name This refusal to follow State Nameorder is against Title 18 or the United States Code and the Interstate Compact, but they will not directly admit that this is what they are doing. I have proof of all of this, including the recordings of the abuse, the restraining order in Third State Name, and the Order of Protection in State Name and am willing to discuss this with you further. Apparently, Third State Namethinks it’s okay to punish victims and protect abusers, probably to keep their abuse case numbers down. This is a grotesque miscarriage of justice, and I am reaching out to anyone I can to bring awareness to these disgusting actions.

On Date, I escaped an abusive relationship and embraced the freedom of living without my abuser’s control. Just four months later, he was sentenced to five years in prison for the abuse he inflicted upon me. Although it felt like an eternity to reach that day, I’m grateful I didn’t have to wait as long as some survivors do. Many survivors never experience justice; some victims never become survivors. Life will never be the same for either of us or our families, especially our children. What's beautiful is that I am no longer the woman who accepts abusive behavior in any form. I don’t want to be the woman who tolerates less than what I deserve because I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be the woman who dims my light so that the man I love can shine brighter. I don’t want to be the woman who hurts myself in an attempt to save a broken man. Had my abuser had his way, I wouldn’t be here today. My children’s world would be a lot different. I have an amazing circle of family, friends, and coworkers who have supported me the best way they know how during this difficult and very emotional time. I love them and thank them for loving me by showing up and being there. I am now able to fully enjoy my children and live for them every day. I show up for them, strive to be the best version of myself, lead them, and love them by loving myself. It’s easy to say that life is a gift until you face a moment when you realize it could be taken away. I still have triggers and am taking it one day at a time. I have accepted that some people don’t deserve to be in my life. I am choosing me! I am choosing real love! I am choosing healthy relationships!