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When I was 17 years old and pregnant, I was trapped in a relationship with a boyfriend I had been with since the age of 15. My life at the time was an impossible choice between two toxic environments. My home life was incredibly unstable; my father was abusive, my mother did nothing to intervene, and both of my parents were fully aware that my boyfriend was abusive to me as well. Throughout our relationship, my ex subjected me to severe control and sexual assault. Once, during an argument, he locked me inside his car and refused to let me out. Another time, when I was only 15 and completely unaware of what it even was, he forced me into a van late at night with his mother and stepfather. Instead of taking me home, they drove me to an unfamiliar city hour away and forced me to take the morning-after pill. Later, while I was pregnant, I was riding in a car with him and his older brother to a distant city I had never been to. When I asked to stop because I needed to use the bathroom, my ex told me I simply had to hold it until we arrived. His own family life was chaotic. His mother was dating a man who was actively fleeing the police to avoid paying child support, meaning they were frequently gone. Eventually, my ex moved out to a run-down, abandoned house that had belonged to his late father. He was so consumed by jealousy that he forbade either of us from going to school. He constantly threatened to hurt himself if I ever left him, and the overwhelming stress eventually forced me to drop out. Although he lived with me at my parents' house for a short time, he ultimately forced me to move into that dilapidated property with him. The house had no running water or electricity; we had to use a bucket as a toilet and wash ourselves outside with a cold-water hose. I went along with it only because I desperately wanted to escape the abuse at my own home, not realizing I was stepping into another trap. To make matters worse, his parents eventually moved in with us, even though we already had barely any food to survive.During my pregnancy, I suffered from severe complications, including blood sugar spikes that required me to eat specific foods like jelly, but there was almost nothing else available. Shortly after his parents moved in, my ex told me we would have to wait two weeks for food stamps before we could get anything to eat. He isolated me entirely, refusing to let my family visit and forbidding me from leaving. He even began cruelly claiming that the baby wasn’t his.Terrified, starved, and exhausted, I found a corner of the house that had just enough cell signal to call my mother. I asked her if I would be a "baby" if I came back home, and she told me no. Realizing I had to escape, I lied to my ex and told him there was an item at my parents' house that we needed for the baby. He resisted, but because he had errands to run in town anyway, he finally agreed to drive me.When we stopped at a bank along the way, I sneaked into the bathroom to call my mom and confirm we were coming. Once we arrived at my parents' house, I refused to get back in the car. My ex flew into a rage, grabbed me by the hair, and told me he should have locked me in a room. The absolute terror of the moment threw me into preterm labor. My mother managed to get him to leave by convincing him she needed to take me straight to the hospital. Believing I would still return to him afterward, he left to go rent movies. Fortunately, the hospital managed to stop the labor, and I was able to return to my parents' house. My ex showed up again and tried to confront me, but this time my father intervened and forced him to leave. Though he continued to harass me for a long time afterward, I was finally free. Looking back, I realize that at just 17 years old, I was essentially surviving a kidnapping and a hostage situation ( I do go by he/him)

I could never remember my childhood well, even as a kid. But I started to be hypersexual at 3, and so thats when I believe me and my brother started touching (hes 3 and a half years older). When I was 12 I remembered and told my parents, my mom freaked out and screamed at me. She said it was my fault and that it wasn't too bad if I didn't tell anyone. I fear thats she's right. When I was 14 and in deep psychosis, I felt like there was more to remember. I started to feel my brother's hands over my body and mouth. I remembered us having sex 3 times. The first time when I was 6 and the last when I was 8. One of those times he was hitting me and pinning me. I dont know how real those memories are because I recovered them in psychosis. I started doing really bad cus all I could think about was me and my brother fucking. A couple of months ago I remembered my brother fucking me with his hands around my neck (which was painful). Im so scared that really happened because I see my brother daily and hes my best friend. Im worried ill remember more.

I was first abused by my stepfather in my early 20s, he took the opportunity while my Mom, sister and niece were away in theme park and molested me. I was taken aback, and had no idea what to do or how to process it. I was scared to tell my Mom and anybody else for fear I wouldn't be believed. I eventually admitted it to my Mom, and went to stay with friends, as I didn't want to be around him at all, and did not feel safe. I was afraid it would go further and that he would rape me. I was very clear with my Mom, I told her that I would not return to the house if he was there, she let him back, so I moved to stay with another relative and subsequently moved out altogether, I had very little contact and refused to return home while he was still there. My Mom found me a counsellor to help me talk about what had happened. I went to her for a number of years. I had issues with family members and friends believing me when I disclosed what happened to me, they insinuated that as it was only assault, it was not that serious. I found this very difficult to take, and it probably made me more reticent about talking about what had happened. About period of time later, the divorce referendum was successfully enacted and my Mom and stepfather were going to marry. My counsellor told me that if I didn't attend that day, I would never forgive myself. I attended, but felt uncomfortable and upset all day long. A number of years later I returned home as I needed somewhere to be as I changed jobs etc. I wasn't fully comfortable with this decision, however I thought I would be okay as my Mom was there too along with my stepfather and my sisters. My Mom got sick shortly after that, she was sick for period of time, and passed away in year. After that, I was living in the house with my stepfather alone. Over a period of time, he deliberately isolated me from my sisters and other family members. So much so, that I had very little support available to me. And then the molesting/assaults started up again, I really didn't know what to do or how to react. It got gradually worse, and for a period of period of time or longer, I was being assaulted/raped on a weekly and sometimes more regular basis. Towards the end of this period he was even talking about marrying me, which was very creepy and inappropriate. This was an excruciating and very difficult time, as I had zero support, and nobody to reach out to or help. Due to health reasons, my stepfather had to move and live with relations in another part of the country, and this finally ended this period of physical and emotional abuse. However I had suppressed and blocked it for so long, that I found it difficult to face or come to terms with. Now period of time later, I am finally seeking help to give me healing and help me come to terms with all that has happened to me. I am grateful that I am at last able to admit how bad things were, and also that I can try and rebuild my own life after years of sidelining myself to look after others. I hope my story will help others in similar situations reach out and seek help and support in the future, even though I cannot take legal action against my abuser, I still want to be able to heal and try and come to terms with all I endured.

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.

10/10/18 My Daughter, These Things I Know Do not go to bed angry Make eye contact Offer a firm handshake Smile at people—stranger and friend alike No one will remember in one month Exercise your mind Go outside Studying does not count without a pen Focus on your lifestyle over your waistline Say yes to travel Say yes to long car rides Say yes to sharing one on one moments Pick up a book—the closest we have to time travel Take pictures Please and Thank you matter Raise your argument rather than your voice Time heals Your body is yours—to explore, to protect, to celebrate There is strength in vulnerability Know when you do not know Parents are just people too Never turn your back on the ocean You will make mistakes Forgive yourself—now try again It is alright to not be alright Write it down Practice loyalty A habit forms in seven days—stick with it Sing in the car—blame the voice on your mother Do not get on a motorcycle Be kind—stranger and friend alike Stay humble Stay curious Do not walk alone at night Do not pretend that is fair Stand your ground Know when to not stand your ground Find your people—love them fiercely and fully Trust your gut You are not alone

For me, my story entailed a male friend getting into my bed when i told him not to and forcing me to ‘cuddle’ with him, while he grabbed at me. He had been telling me all night how he missed his girlfriend, particularly her body & “that” part of their relationship. I felt horrible, i was uncomfortable and scared that he might do more. He didnt. But still even years later i feel uneasy when i think about it & how creepy he really was. He ignored me when i said no. He took away my autonomy that night. So dont feel like your story isnt worthy just because it “could have been worse”. Every experience is valid ❤️

It gets better. It might never go away, but it gets better. His memory, grip on me gets looser and looser every passing day. It gets better. Little by little, it gets better. When it happened, I couldn’t imagine the life after. That I will always be tormented by him. But. It got better. It’s still there, but. There is less of it now

I was assaulted by a man, who was an acquaintance, in my apartment. We had hooked up once before, and it had been quick but fine. Things started consensually, but at one point it began to hurt me and I asked him if we could stop. At that point, he pushed down on my upper back, high enough that my mouth was half pushed into the pillow. I froze, and couldn't move at all. I just waited for him to finish whatever it was he wanted to do. The aftermath was extremely confusing. I first thought that it was just a bad experience. But as the months went on, I realised it was playing on my mind too much to be dismissed as that. Six months after the assault, I sought some medical tests. It was a year after, amid a particular run of sexual assault stories in the media, that I contacted rape crisis centre to get help. I also reported to the Gardai several years after my assault, and while they handled it well they also warned that if I was to pursue an investigation that the process could be very exposing and I chose not to take it further. My assault took place only six months after I had come out as queer, and so it felt like much of what I had worked hard to accept about myself and to go through as part of coming out was impacted -- the freedom to be who I was and to enjoy my sexuality was taken away for a long time. My assault was not the first time nor the last time I experienced non-consensual behaviour, although was by far the most serious and impactful occurrence.

I never thought I’d end up in a relationship where love turned into control. It started small checking where I was, who I talked to, and what I spent. Before long, I was isolated from my family, my finances were no longer my own, and I felt trapped in a version of life that revolved around keeping the peace. The control eventually became financial and emotional. I was pressured to leave my job, told what I could or couldn’t buy, and made to feel guilty for needing independence. Every dollar spent was questioned. My self-worth slowly disappeared until I didn’t recognize myself anymore. Then came the night everything changed. During an argument, he introduced a firearm not in defense, but as intimidation. In that moment, I realized how easily fear can silence someone. That silence almost became my prison. But deep down, something in me refused to die there. I decided to leave, even if it meant starting from nothing. Leaving was terrifying, but it was also the beginning of freedom. I had to rebuild from the ground up my confidence, my finances, and my sense of safety. There were nights I questioned if I made the right choice, but every morning I woke up without fear, I knew I did. Today, I’m learning that healing isn’t about forgetting—it’s about reclaiming power piece by piece. I still flinch at loud noises and double-check locks, but I also laugh again. I make choices for myself. I’m learning to trust that I’m safe now. To anyone who’s living in silence, afraid to leave: your story matters. Fear doesn’t define you, and control is not love. You deserve safety, freedom, and peace. You are not alone and you can survive this too.

Deep Breath Betty was a background character in her own life So Tired of seeking the answers, so tired of living in strife Her mother taught her many things, but mostly just how to stay “Let him rage and let him scream, sometimes that’s just a man’s way” It didn’t used to be like this, otherwise she could have known But it isn’t like the first kiss, tells you how it’s gonna go And many years since then, rings exchanged and baby on the way, The man she knew before then, is not the man he is today She dreams of being free Of something just her own, She dreams of what she’d achieve If nobody here could tell her no She dreams of a real life Not just running to horizons new Where she can finally take a deep breath And have it be better than she’s used to. But when she’s finally made a plan And packed herself a little case There’s nowhere she can run to, not when he’s about to chase That’s the thing about a small town, everyone knows everything But when you’re just a blow in, no one’s gonna let you in And Lord, she needs some money, yeah, can’t rent a place without enough But ever since the baby, that’s been eating all her money up And he said it would be better, if she stayed at home all the time So the baby has a mother, so the big man feels he’s got the wife. She dreams of being free Of something just her own, She dreams of what she’d achieve If nobody here could tell her no She dreams of a real life Not just running to horizons new Where she can finally take a deep breath And have it be better than she’s used to. And when it all goes south and the doors are being slammed When the neighbours just pretend they didn’t see a thing again When the makeup on her eyes is cried off and shows the truth When only in hindsight did they see what he did to you But did she have a place to go? Was there a place to stay? And her dreams are just for sleeping and now we are all awake She won’t ever get the chance to run away. She won’t ever get the chance to be okay… She dreams of being free Of something just her own, She dreams of what she’d achieve If nobody here could tell her no She dreams of a real life Not just running to horizons new Where she can finally take a deep breath And have it be better than she’s used to. Where she can finally take a deep breath and be safe.

Hello, My name is Name & I would like to share one of my poems to (hopefully) be read at Event😊 This poem is called "He Didn't Hit Me" and it is based on my own personal experience with an abusive relationship. I hope that anyone reading this poem & it resonates with them will take comfort in knowing that they are not alone ❤️ He Didn't Hit Me He didn't hit me, but his words cut like a knife, He didn't hit me, but he upended my life. He didn't hit me, but he made false accusations, He didn't hit me, but he had unreasonable expectations. He didn't hit me, but destroyed my hopes & dreams, He didn't hit me but ripped my confidence at the seams. He didn't hit me, but I always had to take the blame, For his shortcomings, moods & his manipulative game. Abuse isn't just physical, this I know to be true, Gaslighting & manipulation are powerful tools, Knowing I deserve better, I am finally free, For I am much more than what he tried to make of me.

my brother SA'd me multiple times. he never raped me, though. he once forced me to kiss him on the mouth as a "game" of some sorts. he would also smack my ass, call me a slut, and shame me for everything. before he got on medication, he would beat me up. he's on medication now, but he's still terrible. he got mad at me and said he would gangrape me. he never did, but it was still scary. i hate him, and he says i'm a bad person for hating him. he also denied ever SAing me. sometimes i feel like i'm delusional or something. i don't know, i'm just tired of living with him. i can't wait for him to move out.

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

I am trying to leave this DV relationship, but it's complicated. He lives with me; he uses my phone and car because he doesn't have neither. I don't want to get the police involved nor do I want to kick him out, 1. he will just be outside my apartment unit and 2. defamation of my character - for some reason everyone believes him and don't see any wrong by him but he sure can make someone look terrible. He is leeching on me. I feel like I'm being suffocated by a hurt boy who have been wounded and traumatized all his life and he is using me as an energy bank to cure his wounds and to cater to his needs. I currently have a cold and he hasn't taken care of me or even asked how I am doing. From the many times I haven't felt well, he would argue with me. I feel so alone and feel like I can't make any plans until he can get a phone and car. Friends say call the police, but I really don't want to, I don't want him to destroy my reputation. My therapist said that if my reputation is the only reason I am putting up with him then I shouldn't worry about my reputation. I understand where my friends and therapist are coming from, but I really don't want that to happen to me, I have seen what he did to his baby mother and it just been a shit show. Am I wrong to want a calm and safest way out?

At the age of four, my mom used to take me out to the trunk of her Jeep and beat me for 20-30 minutes at a time. She would hit me, pull my hair, and scream profanity at me. The physical abuse lasted until I was 11-years-old, and she only stopped once CPS got involved. My dad knew; he did nothing. At the age of 6, I got sexually molested at school by another female. My mother told me it was not molestation, and that I was just "playing around." At the age of 11, I was sexually abused by the neighborhood boys. They were in their mid-teens, and would touch me inappropriately, rub their penises against me, and tell me inappropriate jokes. At that same age, I was also dry humped on the face by multiple boys who I considered friends. At the age of 16, I was raped by a 26-year-old man. He groomed me beginning at the age of 14-years-old, and convinced me he was a safe person. At that same point in my life, I was raped by a 23-year-old that I had known for two years and considered safe. He took me to a room where we could "be alone" then proceeded to force himself on me. I was crying and telling him to stop, but he didn't stop. I dated him for three months after that, and he continued to pressure me into sex and emotionally abuse me. Starting at the age of 14-years-old, I began getting harassed online. I stupidly gave out my phone number and address to someone I had trusted, and they were posted on 4chan (a public image board). I was harassed daily: I received death threats; I received threatening phone calls; I would receive calls to my school. I then found out that the person I trusted killed a girl in his home city, and that they had proof I was going to be the next victim. At the age of 17, my step-dad physically assaulted me and almost broke my wrist. He put a cigarette out on my head, strangled me, and threatened me. My mom watched, holding the phone, and told me it was my fault for "not leaving when [she] told [me] to." The only help I got was from a neighbor who saw me run out of the house, covered in blood. That same year, I was kicked out because I refused to lift the restraining order off of my step-dad, and my mom gave me an ultimatum. I refused and went to live elsewhere. At the age of 18, I moved in with my first serious boyfriend. He was abusive and cheated on me multiple times. He would call me every name in the book and threaten to harm me and break my belongings. I did not get away until I was just turning 19. At the age of 20, I moved in with my dad. My step-mom was jealous of my dad and I's relationship and physically assaulted me and kicked me out on my 21st birthday. My dad did nothing again. At the age of 21, I developed life-threatening bulimia and anorexia and began drinking heavily to self-medicate. My fiance helped me through these disorders and saved my life. I am now 24-years-old and have many stable and healthy relationships--both in friendship and love. I am also receiving help via medication for C-PTSD, GAD, and major depressive disorder. I began therapy recently, too, and am learning to confront my traumas and move on. It's hard, and there are many things I remember each day that send me into a panic, but I want to heal and reclaim my innocence, power, and self-worth.

It was 21 years ago and I have never told anyone. I lived with my first roommate, who I knew had some questionable friends. Nevertheless, I trusted her and our new, cute, little home. Until one night she had friends over. I didn't drink and wasn't into hard drugs. We had food, everyone else was drinking and having a good time. I don't remember anything after that, until I woke up in the middle of the night with a man, one of her 'friends', on top of me. He was inside of me as I laid on the middle of the floor. I could not move, I could not speak. It wasn't a flight, fight or freeze, I had been drugged and could not move a single part of my body. I couldn't even move my arms to push him away. And when my roommates MOTHER walked into our new home, into the dark room, in the middle of the night, she saw what was happening. All I could do was open my eyes wide with fear, but she turned around and walked out without a word and left him to finish what he started. He laughed when she walked away. By the time I had any control of my body, he was gone, I was alone and naked on the living room floor of my first place, where every person stepped over me as they filed out in the morning. It was the morning joke...what and who did she do. No one asked if I was ok that morning. No one ever did. It has been 21 years and I still don't know the name of the man who raped me that night, but I will always remember his face.

Hello, My name is Name & I would like to share one of my poems to (hopefully) be read at Event 😊 This poem is called "He Didn't Hit Me" and it is based on my own personal experience with an abusive relationship. I hope that anyone reading this poem & it resonates with them will take comfort in knowing that they are not alone ❤️ He Didn't Hit Me He didn't hit me, but his words cut like a knife, He didn't hit me, but he upended my life. He didn't hit me, but he made false accusations, He didn't hit me, but he had unreasonable expectations. He didn't hit me, but destroyed my hopes & dreams, He didn't hit me but ripped my confidence at the seams. He didn't hit me, but I always had to take the blame, For his shortcomings, moods & his manipulative game. Abuse isn't just physical, this I know to be true, Gaslighting & manipulation are powerful tools, Knowing I deserve better, I am finally free, For I am much more than what he tried to make of me.

Can you hear me? Can you hear me? I'm a survivor of sexual abuse. I'm here to help others break free from the silence. I know the pain of silence. I know the fear that comes with speaking out. But I also know the power of healing that comes with sharing your story. I am here to tell you that you are not alone. There are millions of us, survivors of sexual abuse, all around the world. We are all connected in our shared experience, and we are all stronger together. I am here to tell you that you are not to blame. What happened to you was not your fault. You are worthy of love and respect. I am here to tell you that you are not powerless. You have the strength to heal. You have the courage to speak out. I am here to help you break free from the silence. I am here to listen to you. I am here to believe you. Together, we can create a world where sexual abuse is not tolerated. A world where survivors are heard and supported. A world where healing is possible.