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In my story, IT STARTED WITH MY BROTHER, I briefly mentioned 3 instances of avoiding being raped by letting men just have me when it seemed like they were going to do me whether or not I consented. I do think I avoided emotional and physical trauma at the time, but the anger, self resentment, and feelings of being wronged and about it did snowball after. I never shared or released those stories. Please read my original story for context. In this instance the sex was already happening when I awoke, and my reflex was to take the non-confrontational path. The easy way, not the right way. I had gotten home from work as a server at my bar and grill restaurant and my female roommate had her father staying with us for the weekend. I had already met him since they drove straight from the airport to the sports bar I worked at. That’s were he told me, “Just call me, ‘Dad’”. They sat in my section, ate, and left. No issues. Then, back at our 2 bedroom apartment there was a small party for his benefit with a couple of our friends. I had a couple hard ciders and chatted about college and my roommate and heard stores of when she was a kid from. I flirted and humored “Dad”’s sexual innuendos directed at me, and ignored his eyes all up and down me. I was used to it. I played the good hostess and waited until it was all dying down probably around 2 or 3 am, before I showered and went to bed. It had been a long day with both class and work. I was stirred out of my sleep a few hours later with "Dad" already inside of me, thrusting in and out between my legs! By the light streaming in through my dark blinds I could tell it was day. But WTF was happening?! My panties were off but my T-shirt was on. Underneath it the dark figure who I quickly was able to identify as "Dad" was caressing my breasts with one hand while holding me down with the other. Still dazed and confused, I guess I put my arms around him and responded like a willing partner. He soon finished and then it got awkward.  He told me "That really hit the spot". He started to make conversation! The longer I had to think, the more I realized what happened. That he had just helped himself as I lay sleeping. I was 19 and dating a hot university baseball player at the time and would not have gone for this fifty or so year old guy on purpose. He was sure drinking that night but I had only had a few ciders. So there I was, realizing I had been kind of raped but held hostage by a sense of politeness! Not to mention as I was 5'3'' 110 pounds, so there was the physical intimidation from a much taller man with a dad bod.  I always pee right after sex but felt captive by "Dad"'s ramblings as he propped himself up on one elbow hovering over me while he ran his fingers over me and stroked my hair sporadically.  I shared his cold can of beer with him that he must have opened right before he came in to rape me because I remember drinking deeply the cold liquid soothing my dry throat. I suffered through some dad jokes and stories I did not care about, as well as answering some personal questions about myself and my sexuality. I was looking for momentary pause to get up and away from “Dad” when he said, "I'm ready to go again, baby." NO! He moved on top of me! Instead of fighting him off me or even saying "no", I spread my legs to accommodate him! WTF! The second time did not have the desperate eagerness of the first, unfortunately. As he even said, he wanted to teach me a lesson this time. I guess about how good he was is bed. A definite case of ‘whiskey dick’. So I let this man I had never wanted or considered sex with jostle me into several positions. He was large man and so much stronger than me it was a joke. After the missionary he picked me up to prove some point and did me against the wall right next to my window. I remember seeing through cracks in the blinds and knowing it was early because the parking lot was full and nothing was moving. Then SLAM onto the bed. We did 69 with me lying on him where I sucked him with all my might wanting to END IT while he was licking me. I failed! He had me being on top riding him at one point. I was on my hands and knees with him ramming behind me when I collapsed under his weight to flat on my face. He enjoyed never letting up on the thrusts as I was completely pinned down by him. I let him give me two or more orgasms in hopes he would just finish. I was so loud I was embarrassed my roommate would come rushing in my room any second. She was passed out drunk. He finally left as soon as he finished. I am sure his ego was massively inflated and the terrible man still thinks of me today! I lie there in my bed catching my breath and getting more anxious. I got up, pulled on some sweats, and B-lined straight out the door to my gym. I wanted to get away so bad. I drank water like I had just walked out of a desert. I showered for so long at the empty Saturday morning gym without any products but hand soap. Then I started to work out like crazy, on three hours sleep and exhaustion. I was trying to sweat him out of my system, to scream and thrash through my exercise. I showered again then went out and fell asleep in my car in the back of the lot. The rest of the weekend I only went to my apartment for minutes at a time to pick up things I needed. I sure as Hell did not sleep there! When he was gone I answered my roommates questions that I had been blowing off with lies and short answers. I told her the truth. She shrugged and looked at me skeptically, like it was just one of those things. I was promiscuous in college and she knew it. We sort of made a joke out of it and moved on. The easy way, not the right way. I still have big time guilt at how I was back then. At the time my things was not that "I wish I had fought him." What I wished was that I had been too drunk to remember!!! So that was that. Something I kept inside, festering. Other things added to it and it got swept under the rug of my damaged psyche. Not one of the worst skeletons in my closet but what I was willing to share for now. I am working up to the others. My first story I shared helped a lot. I hope it helped somebody else too. I thank all of you and I empathize. I will read your stories and support you in my thoughts and prayers.

I was 18. In college I was part of a ladies team on in college sports team. There were also male teams. There was a inter college tournament that our college was hosting for other male college teams within Ireland. We all had nights out planned and a 'play hard, play hard' attitude. It was great to be part of something - I genuinely loved playing and being part of the club. On one of the nights I was drinking and got to talking with a guy from another college mens team. It was fun and we ended up back at his hotel room, where we had consensual sex. After, I remember feeling groggy and then being suddenly awoken to all these lads barging in. They ripped the bed cover off us and I remember phone flashes going off. It was year so, not exactly amazing phones back them. Slagging of various types ensued but then I remember being held down. At least 2 different men. I remember saying no, please stop. Flashes in and out while I just stared at the corner of the bedside table, thinking how similar it was to the one in my parents room. Weird. I must have slept at some point because I woke up. I got dressed. I remembered nothing. Nothing but the sex with the lad I kissed. Naturally, the next morning is always awkward so I wanted to get out of there. Just as the hotel room door clicked shut I realised I had left my shoes. I knocked back and had to do so loudly as everyone was deep asleep. As I was doing that one of the other team members opened a door across the hall, he stared at me. I said sorry for waking him but I needed my shoes. He just said he was so sorry. I was confused, having no memory of what he was actually talking about, so I said I'm sorry I left my shoes. Eventually someone opened the door and I got my shoes. Leaving the hotel and walking to the nearest bus stop, I felt appropriately hung over but sore. Down there. I'd never been sore before. Guess we must have really gone for it, I thought. Fast forward to lockdown 3 during Covid, I began experiencing severe nightmares that weren't nightmares. The missing memories came back over 2/3 months and I realised that I had been rated multiple times. That my brain had protected me until now. My SA, unknowingly, had a huge impact on my formative years - I came out as bisexual just 2 years ago. I feel I would have had a very different 20's but I met a decent guy, stuck with him like glue and am now married with a child. Due to the memory block, I have no recourse. No sense of justice so I just hope those boys, now grown men, are better than they were.

I’m a 27 year old female now but when I was about the age of 6-7 my sister would kiss me on the lips. I vividly remember laying down on my bathroom floor (which she told me to do) and would just tell me to relax. She is 4 years older than me. I also remember one time I really wanted to kiss her and she said yes. I think it was a game to me at that point. She had left for a moment and I got naked. I remember she came back and said to put my clothes on because our dad was going to take us out to eat. Those are the only moments I remember but my mind might be pushing down other similar moments I had with her. I’m struggling now to have a relationship with her. She has never talked about it, but I feel like she remembers. It’s so hard to speak to her without getting annoyed or frustrated. She is annoying to me and never communicates well, she tends to always ask a question when asked a question. She’s never wrong and is hard headed. At this point I feel like I need to speak to her about this and distance myself to heal. I don’t even know what I want but I just don’t want to feel this way.

I was inappropriately touched and groped by an older uncle. I have only disclosed this with 2 people. The uncle is my moms brother and our family (particularly his immediate family) have suffered horrible losses and deaths over the years and I just don’t want to add fuel to the fire. I feel like I don’t want to tell anyone and make it public so I am so so happy to have found this space. I know my mom would be fully supportive, my whole family would but I just can’t bring myself to say it. I’m 30 now and although the abuse never got far, it still happened. There are 2 occasions. This uncle in question also has been charged I am healing myself every day through mindful breathing, exercise and yoga but it is tough some days.

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,

Hello! I don't know how to go about this at all, but I know I need to put it out there. I am a lesbian over 21 years of age, and I experienced rape and sexual assault by my last lesbian partner. I apologize if this is long, but if anyone reads this, it's greatly appreciated! I met my ex last January, and we texted for about a month before we had our first date. the first date went well, nothing concerning. The second date, which was 2-3 days after our first one, was where it all started. I didn't mind that she kissed me first, but I got nervous when she told me she wanted to take it to the backseat. She started to grope me and to palm me through my clothing before eventually trying to get her hand in my jeans. I stopped her and told her I wasn't comfortable doing any of that yet. Her response was "Oh, but eventually you will want to, right?" and to that I said "yes, but not right now." She continued anyway. That's the moment I look back on and wish I had left. I stayed. Maybe a date or two pass without her doing anything concerning again before there's another incident. We are in her car outside her workplace for an event we chose to go to. There are people on the street. She starts making out with me, to which I feel icky about bc people can probably see us and it's not appropriate. This time she starts to palm me through my skirt again, and at this point I kind of don't remember much other than me saying that I was scared and nervous, and it doesn't seem safe, and her coercing me. Before I know it, she has her hand down my underwear and is raping me. we didn't go to the event. we left and she told me next time she could find a secluded place. she never did. and that's where it all started. over the next 5 months she would rape me in her car every single chance she could. every single time I told her I wasn't comfortable. I would wear tight underwear, but she would still do everything to do it. if she didn't, she would get mad and stonewall me. but there was never once where it wasn't attempted. the worst night was maybe a month after it all started. again, in her backseat. it was in a fairly public parking lot, she tried to cover the windows with clothes, but it was still obviously visible. she made me lay down and take off all my bottoms and completely spread open. it was so humiliating. she then proceeded to violently rape me so bad and painful I was crying and holding on my screams bc I didn't want to bring attention to the situation or possibly get in trouble. I told her I was comfortable and that I wanted to scream but she just threw a cloth over my face so I wouldn't focus on it. after I had to put my clothes back on and I ruined them. I was in pain for maybe up to a weel after or a bit more. now I wish I had gotten evidence of that night, but I have none. In total I think it happened around 14 times. the same care situations in public that I hated. during the relationship I was blinded to an extent, and I didn't realize it counted as rape until after we broke up. At first, I had accepted what happened but now I have a new partner. my new partner coincidentally works with my rapist ex. ever since finding that out I feel completely distraught and suffocated by what she did to me. Not only that. before finding out they worked together they sat next to each other and were becoming friends. so my ex told my current gf how I am a terrible person and that she's afraid of me. they don't speak anymore. I don't know I just feel suffocated by it all. she also has a new gf. I wish I could tell her new gf to be careful, but I'm scared. in my community there's so much stigma around rape and homosexuality. I don't think I could ever safely publicly come out with my story as much as I want to. she completely changed my life. it's like I don't know how to be myself anymore and I feel like I'm going insane.

I don't know how to start, it's just I am having pms rn and I can't help but feel disgusted. It was my cousin brother. We have been close since childhood. We used to do all kinds of things that you would usually do with your brother. I used to live far, I with my fam used to visit their fam. I still remember the last conversation we had when I last visited him before covid, we were talking about him getting a gf and Me getting a bf just normal conversation. After covid, in 2022 I moved. It was near where he lived. He came to stay naturally, just like we would hang out daily and eat out and had fun. One day, I was laying down with him. All the days, he stayed with us. I used to sleep with him in the same bed. But that it was a nightmare. Out of nowhere he started putting his hand on my stomach. He started touching me over my underwear and in between my thighs. I froze on place. I couldn't think anything I was begging God please don't let him go further. He was trying to open my underwear and touching around it. I pulled away his hand. He still brought it again in between my thighs. Then after sometime he stopped. I continued sleeping there..ik it was the dumbest thing but yk how it is, you freeze in a place, you can't think right. I didn't shout or anything. I was just stunned and didn't know anything that I could do then. Next day, I woke up I literally felt it was a dream but I had a clear memory. Very clear memory Long time, it felt like I was at fault.. for sleeping in bed with him, for not shouting, for not reacting enough, for never speaking up about it to me. I was just disgusted and decided to talk to my friends. They made me understand it's not me, it was him. It was not something he could do without any intention. Its been 3 years, only my closest friends know, my parents don't know. I don't know whether he remembers it or not. It doesn't matter. It was something so disgusting and it stays with till today. It doesn't matter what he thinks. I stay away from him and made sure to never have a good connection with him ever after that. He once blackmailed me with something I didn't know. He just randomly started telling me he knows what I did. And called one of his friend saying that I will give 500 rupees and you give me that thing. I don't even know what it was about. But he is the most disgusting person to ever exist. His idea about woman disgusts me and how he keeps his gf too. I wish the old me would have done something then But I am so glad I understand myself more than anything and bring that up will only cause harm in my slowly healing life

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

When I came forward about my sexual assault I was 18 and still in high school. It’s been almost 7 years now since I first came forward. I was assaulted multiple times for almost a year by a person of authority, a teacher of mine and he was also a member of the local fire department that I was in a program for. This person took my virginity and for months this person abused me. I will never ever forget how scared I felt when this man who was so much older and so much bigger then me forced himself onto me. I will never forget the look on his face. I will never forget the fight I put up. I will never forget the tears that rolled down my face. I will never forget going to the bathroom with blood running down my legs. I will ever forget when I got back home sitting in the scolding hot water in the shower looking down at myself who was now so damaged. I will never ever forget hoping that each time would be the last time. This was a person that I was supposed to have trust in and felt safe around but he used his power to abuse me and control me. He often made remarks saying no one would ever believe me and threatened things that meant a lot to me, my family, future career, and worst of all my life. For almost a year I did what I had to to stay alive and safe. When he first raped me I fought so hard. I screamed but he silenced me, I would bite him but he would bite me harder, I hit him he held me down tighter and hit me back. Eventually with each time that he raped me I just laid there thinking of being somewhere else. Hoping he would just stop. I felt like a zombie stuck there most times. When I came forward I thought things would finally stop and I’d be free. That was not the case even though I wasnt being raped, beat up, and verbally abused and threatend a new pain came from coming forward. When a survivor comes forward their world often comes crashing down with having to give statements, having doctors appointments, people bullying and judging, and in some cases having to go through the legal system for justice which can oftentimes be very traumatic. I had to continually relive my worst days over and over again. I had to encounter years of threats, bullying, and accusations that he was a “good guy” and would never do something like that. I was having to give multiple statements to the police and the school board and was oftentimes questioned on if I had my story correct. This made me feel so terrible knowing they were trying to protect him and doubting me. This was a pain no person should ever endure. Going through almost a year of being sexually assaulted and fighting for my life and then having remarks and actions made like this made me feel so small, weak, and hopeless. For so long I felt so alone and I wish I had known then that sadly I wasn’t and many others have endured similar pain. I share my story today because for so long I was silenced and lonely. Tackling this battle alone was scary and painful. I often regretted coming forward and often times thought of the life I had before. I share my story and my voice for those who are scared, alone, and confused because those feelings I felt I don’t want others to feel. I share my story in hopes to help maybe just one person know that there not alone, know that I see them, I hear them, and I believe them. I will never ever understand why I was raped but I do believe I fought so hard and was strong enough to overcome it because my purpose is to speak out and help others and help change the way rape is viewed when a victim comes forward. I share my story because I want others to see that they too can make it out and that things do get better.

I've experienced sexual assault numerous times, but that's another story. I was sexually assaulted during my first year at college by two students. On April 2022, my first attacker started to message me. Everything was platonic. We never even flirted. When we met up, everything was fine until he asked to hang out again. I wanted to be nice, so I agreed, not thinking anything of it. We hung out on April 12th, 2022, and everything was fine. Until we were both in his car, he asked if I "wanted to hook up?" I was caught off guard, but I declined. Still, he was persistent. I got uncomfortable and didn't know what to do. Then he started to kiss and touch me. He took my clothes off within seconds. I couldn't push him off. And he assaulted me without a condom. I just laid there frozen and paralyzed while he laughed. Afterward, he acted as if nothing had happened. At first, I didn't think it was sexual assault. I didn't process or comprehend it. I tried to convince myself that "I wanted it. I'm being dramatic. I liked it." I tried to self-gaslight and normalize the incident. I kept blaming myself, "This is my fault. I was the one who got in his car. I should've known better." So I acted like I was okay and tried to move on. Until the next day, I was sexually assaulted AGAIN twice, the second day in a row by HIS FRIEND/ TEAMMATE. In August 2021, my second attacker saw me and thought I was "pretty" and "wanted a relationship with me," but I made it very clear to him that I was not interested. Still, he would flirt and try to talk to me, but I kept rejecting him. He stopped trying, and we eventually became cool and slowly started to become friends. On April 13th, 2022, he invited me "to go eat." He lied and instead took me to an empty public parking garage. As soon as he parked, he grabbed my face and kissed and touched me from inside my shirt and pants. HE DID NOT once ask for my consent. I tried to pull away from him, but he still forced himself on me and kept asking me more than twice, "why are you pulling away?" I told him, "I don't want to do anything." He tried to convince me. I said, "NO." Then he had the audacity to ask me, "why?" All I said was, "I'm tired." Even though my second attacker stopped, he still violated my boundaries. After rejecting him multiple times, lying to me, and pulling away. He claimed that "he knew this was unwanted but did it anyway because he had nothing better to do." Afterward, he dropped me off at school. I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. I went to the bathroom so I could call my cousin. I started to cry and told her everything. My cousin attended the same college as me. She was the first person I told. Since she left, I needed to talk to someone on campus. I walked around campus, crying. I didn't know who to go to. People kept looking at me weirdly. That's when I ran into my friend. She took me to her dorm lobby. I told her everything as she comforted me through my panic attack. After 2 hours, I calmed down and went home. Once I got home, I went to bed and slept the entire day. The next morning, I had to tell my mom. I told her everything. There is so much more to the story. I wish I could say justice will be served, but this story ends differently. They got to walk free and still attend my old college, which left me no choice but to transfer. I couldn't stay without fearing that I would run into my attackers. None of this hasn't been easy. The legal process, being hospitalized, switching schools, and the pregnancy scare. My screaming as I held my advocate's hand during the medical examination will always haunt me. Every day after that was harder. I had to cut my long hair because of the flashbacks. I get nightmares. The panic feeling whenever I'm around a man. Feeling used and disgusting all the time. Not knowing how to be or have connections with people anymore. Some friendships not being the same because they rather keep their distance. My cousin not believing me. The reactions I received from people have really affected me. I have friends and many people who believe me and have been there for me. But some reactions from my own family shocked and surprised me. Their response was almost as bad as the assault itself. I'm not the same person I used to be. I could never explain what I go through every day. 8 months later, my anxiety and depression have worsened, and now I have PTSD. I take it day by day. Some days are harder than other days. But I'm trying and working on myself. I'm in therapy, taking medication, and still going to school. I sometimes still feel like it was my fault. Sometimes I feel embarrassed that I was assaulted. What happened is such a huge burden to me. I've debated numerous times about sharing this because of the fear of being judged, but here I am.

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

A few years ago when I was a sophomore in high school I sort of remembered that I was touched by my brother (I was about 3 or 4 and he was about 12 or 13) and my mom had caught him and the only thing she did was force us to switch rooms. But I ignored it because I thought I was making it up for some reason. But I’m a junior in college and it’s finally hit me that, that I didn’t make it up. And I finally had the courage to ask my mom if he did anything and she said yes. And it really hurt and sucked because she was supposed to protect. She asked me if he had done anything else and I said no but after I said no it kind of hit me that I don’t really know if he did or not. We continued talking about it more but then she said she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. And now it’s really getting the way of our relationship because I see his daughter every Thursday at his place and I’m trying to tell my mom I don’t want to. Like I love my niece but idk. I feel almost jealous of her? Idk what I’m feeling. But I don’t really know what to do? I can’t afford therapy and I want to tell my sister but I don’t really know how to bring it up. So I could use some help?

I was SA'd multiple times by my now ex boyfriend. He was 18 M and I 19 F. He also made some comment about how "no one will believe you because I'm the one who's younger/closer to the age of consent". I will be pursuing legal action once I go back to the state of where the crime happened. I will be traveling back for Thanksgiving. Trying to figure out if it technically counted as insertion as it was through clothes but that was obviously the intent. He also lied about being over his porn addiction which had allegedly been solved 2 years ago. He manipulated me into not telling my and his parents about said addition because he said that he hadn't told his parents. Later, he said that he'd told a mutual teacher (who is misogynistic and legitimately horrible). He'd force himself on me- he had about 50 pounds on me and about 6 in (15-16cm) on me. So the only way to remove him was to cobra wrap him with my legs and twist him off. I knew that this was my only way of escape because it was the only muscle region in which I was stronger than him (my max lift on adductors is 205 lbs/93 kgs). Just realised what it was- I broke up with him this past April and only realised the past few weeks. And now I'm having flashbacks and other PTSD seeming problems. And he thinks we're still friends even though I told him that I'd block him. He has no idea what he did or the damage he instilled. There's also some religious trauma because he said that I needed to "pray my anxiety away" when it's physically just a lack of serotonin. So I can't even go to a church because I'm so bitter. I know I can solve this for myself, but I don't want any other girl to get trapped by him. I felt asexual a little before all of this happened and now that feeling is stronger- am I still validated in that?

When I was 20 I was in college and I agreed to live with someone I knew name name for the summer while I worked a summer job. name had a number of disquieting habits that always kind of bothered me. He would tend to get into my personal bubble not my personal space too often. He also had a habit of seeming to get lost in the middle of the night going back to his bedroom from the bathroom. One night name opened my door and was standing in my room when I woke up and I said what's going on name? He said oh I must've gotten lost or confused getting back to my room from the bathroom, sorry. After that I started locking my door at night and there were a number of times when I woke up and noticed that name was trying my door knob in the middle of the night. And I thought what's up with that? But I didn't worry about it too much. One Friday I came home from my summer job and name was sitting out by the pool in front of the apartment with a pitcher of what he described as piña coladas. He invited me to sit down and have a drink. He poured a glass of piña colada's for me and said this is my special piña colada mix. I want you to try it. So we sat there and I was sipping on his piña colada and I got about halfway through and he asked me how I was feeling. I thought it for a little bit strong and I told him so. But name just said drink it up, drink it up, I want you to have another. I said I don't know name. This feels awfully strong and I'm feeling kind of funny. name said come on, this is my special piña colada mix. I made it just for you. You have finish it. You have to have another. I'll feel insulted if you don't. I don't know name, I said. I'm feeling kind of funny. But name got up in my face pouring me another glass and said you have to have another one. These are my special piña coladas. I made them just for you. You have to have another. So name poured me another glass of piña coladas, and took my empty glass away, and said drink it up drink it up. So I tried to drink some more. I got about halfway through the second glass of piña coladas and told name I just don't feel right. I need to get up to my room. I tried to stand up but was having trouble. name offered to help me get up and put an arm around me and helped get me up the stairs to the apartment. When we got inside, I told name I thought I needed to get to bed, I just didn't feel right at all. name got me into my room and set me on my bed and said here I'll help you get your clothes off. So he started taking off my clothes and then he pulled my underwear off. Then he pulled his pants down and had a big erection. I said name what's going on? He just started masturbating. My head was swimming, I was completely out of it, and I started masturbating too. Then he shoved me over on the bed. I said name, what's going on? I tried to push myself off the bed and turn around and he was trying to anally penetrate me with his penis. I shouted name stop, stop. I'm not a girl, I shouted. Stop! But I couldn't keep my eyes open and I just collapsed on the bed. The next thing that I knew I was struggling to breathe and it was pitch dark. I was on my back and something was in my mouth. I didn't know whether it was rubber, a piece of meat, or skin. But it was thrusting up and down in my mouth and hitting the back of my throat and I was gagging. And hair was brushing up against my lips. I was starting to come to rapidly. Suddenly I realized that name was on top of me and his penis was in my mouth. I started screaming. I may have bit him. I started thrashing and pushed him off me. I jumped up and realized I was in his bedroom and I didn't know how I got there. I was screaming and I ran to my room. I locked my door and started fumbling around looking for my clothes and my car keys. name was trying my door knob again. I screamed at him to stop, to get away from my door, to leave me alone. He's sad he was trying to check on me to make sure I was OK. I screamed what do you mean OK? What do you think just happened? What do you think just happened? This is not OK, I yelled. And then I yelled get away from my door I'm coming through! You stand back! I threw the door open and name was standing there. I shouted get back and brushed past him and headed to the front door. I ran down the steps past the pool and out to my car. I jumped in my car and started it as quickly as I could. I gunned the engine and raced out of the parking lot and onto the street. I was going too fast and I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know what to do. But I was heading in the direction of the campus. So I just kept driving. And then I turned on the street that my old dorm was on. There was an athletic field at the end of the street and I thought maybe I would park there and try to think. But as I was driving down the street I noticed the light on at this townhouse apartment where a woman I knew was staying. So I parked in front of her place and went up to her door and started ringing the doorbell and knocking on the door. She came to the door in a bathrobe and asked name 2 what's going on? I told her name just attacked me. She told me to come in and tell her what happened. I was standing in her living room just shaking and crying and probably not making a lot of sense. So she told me to come into her bedroom and she had me lay down on her bed where I just laid and cried and sobbed. She tried to ask me what happened. Between sobs I tried to tell her name attacked me. name sexually attacked me. She said she didn't think name was gay. name had a girlfriend. She asked me if I thought I might be gay. I said I didn't think so and I didn't understand what had happened. I told her I thought he drugged me. I just sobbed and cried and cried, and I wasn't making a lot of sense. So at one point she just pulled a blanket over me and laid down herself and turned off the light. I cried myself to sleep. I started stirring when it was getting light outside. I didn't know where I was. I was trying to understand what was going on. Had I had a terrible dream? Was it a nightmare? But when I opened my eyes I saw that I wasn't in my room and I was on this woman's bed. She was asleep, but it was clear this had been no nightmare, this was real. I tried nudging her and told her I have to get up and go get my things. I have to find someplace new to stay. Then she stirred groggily and said I'm sorry I have to go back to sleep, I can't help right now. So I got up and went out to my car. I sat out in my car trying to think of what to do. I didn't feel safe going back to the apartment by myself. I thought maybe I needed some kind of weapon to protect myself. The first thought in my mind was I've got to figure out how to buy a gun. I don't know how to do that. I've got to figure this out. But then I thought if I get a gun, I'll probably end up shooting him and end up in a jail cell and my life will be over, or I'll shoot myself and my life will be over. Then I thought maybe a knife, maybe I should get a knife. But then I thought I might turn it on him, kill him, and end up in a jail cell. So I settled on the idea of getting a baseball bat. I had to go find a sporting goods store or a store that would sell a baseball bat. I drove to the local mall and waited outside of a department store that I knew had a sporting goods department. I had to wait until they opened up at 9 o'clock. Then when they opened I went inside and bought a heavy wooden baseball bat. This is what I would use to go back to the apartment to pick up my things and protect myself. So I drove to the apartment parked my car and walked up to the apartment door holding onto my baseball bat in my right hand the whole time and I turned my key in the lock and name was standing there in the living room. I held up the baseball back and said name you stand back! You stand back! I need to get my things! name motioned with his hands that it's all right, and said everything's OK. I yelled it's not OK! You stand back and let me get my things. I'm not staying here anymore. So I went to my room and I locked the door and put the bat down so I could pack my things. I had a simple college trunk and a knapsack and I just filled them with all of my things. At some point name was fumbling with my door knob again. I yelled for him to get away. He said he just wanted to make sure that I was OK. I yelled I'm not OK what you did last night was not OK! I'm not living here anymore! name said it's OK, you don't have to live here anymore. I guess I'll find somebody else. I yelled what do you mean you guess you'll find somebody else? What do you think happened last night? Then I yelled you get back, you get away from my door! I'm coming through! I tried to pick up my things and my baseball bat and opened my door. I held up the baseball bat again and said name you get back! He was motioning with his hands like everything's OK, everything's OK. But I just yelled at him to get back and let me past. So I pulled my things to the door holding that bat the whole time and keeping an eye over my shoulder to make sure that he didn't come near me. Then I pulled the door open and pulled my things out and closed the door behind me. I picked up my things and headed down the steps looking back over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being followed. I headed past the pool, and out to my car. I loaded up the car got inside and started driving. I wasn't sure where to go or what to do. I needed to find someplace to stay. So I drove to the campus to go find a copy of the student newspaper, which often had listings for apartments for rent. I think there was an ad for one of the fraternities which was renting out rooms for the summer. I wasn't excited about that prospect, but I needed some place to stay. I needed to keep working my summer job and making money so I could come back and finish school the next year. So I drove over to the fraternity and spoke to the student manager and he said they could rent me a room. It wasn't clear if I would have the room to myself the entire summer, but they could rent me a room. So I got my things and I moved in. I wasn't comfortable that night. I couldn't lock the door and I kept thinking about name and worrying about somebody coming through my door in the middle of the night. Also there were people in the fraternity that were goofing off half the night going up and down the stairs, making noise, and it was hard to sleep. And I also laid in bed every single night thinking about what happened to me and wondering what does it mean? How did this happen? Am I gay? Does this mean I'm gay? I didn't feel like I could tell anybody anything. I spent the next few months socially shutting down. I didn't really see any friends. And I didn't talk to people. I couldn't tell anybody what happened to me. I tried to pretend that nothing happened to me. I kept repeating to myself over and over again. This didn't happen. This didn't happen. I felt like if I kept repeating this didn't happen over and over again then maybe I wouldn't feel like it happened. Maybe I could pretend it didn't happen. Maybe I could erase it from my mind. And I kept thinking that was the only way I could get through this, just pretend it didn't happen. If I kept telling myself over and over and over again that it didn't happen, then maybe I wouldn't feel like it happened and maybe everything would be OK. And that's how I got through. I eventually started socially opening up again. A couple of months later one of my friends told me that he was gay. He also told me that he was interested in me. I was still asking questions about my own sexuality. I didn't know what the sexual attack had meant about me. I didn't know what it meant about my sexuality. I ended up fooling around one time with the gay friend. But it didn't feel right for me. Slowly, I got on with things. I eventually got my own apartment. I met my college girlfriend my senior year. I finished up school and I went on with living. A couple of years later, when I had moved across the country, my phone rang one morning. It was name. And he just kept repeating I want to do that thing with you again. I want to do that thing with you again, he sad. I was in shock. I hung up the phone. How did he get my phone number? How did he track me down? I spent a couple of days reliving in my head what happened to me, but then I started to snap out of it. I still hadn't told anybody anything about what happened to me and I wasn't going to. I was going to ignore this. A year later, I was seeing a dermatologist about venereal warts. He asked me if I engaged in homosexual practices. He said he'd only seen venereal warts in people who engaged in homosexual practices. This is so triggering and brought back uncomfortable memories. But I just told him no, I'm not gay. Well I had to endure a series of painful chemical skin peeling treatments that went on for months. Every time I saw this doctor he asked me if I was gay. He said the question was nonjudgmental, he wasn't judging me. But I just told him no I'm not gay. I could not tell this man what happened to me. And I put it out of my mind, I tried to put it out of my mind. I tried to go on with my life. But I've endured plenty of triggering events, and suffered flashbacks ever since, During periodic physicals, things like prostate exams--the doctor poking around through the anus sets me off and leaves me depressed and miserable. I have avoided things that I like, like swimming, because I can't stand to use locker rooms where other males are in a state of undress. When I see naked men, my anxiety goes through the roof. I'm now working with a therapist trying to process what happened to me. I was sexually assaulted 45 years ago. Try as I might to forget, I've never gotten over it.

I was 6 when it happened. When I told, nobody believed me. After all who who believe a 7 year old could molest a 6 year old? That's exactly what happened. He would start with a massage or singing to me. When I didn't like it he threatened me with a pocket knife and that he'd kill me if I ever told. I did. I told a babysitter, who told my parent, who told my teacher, who told the principal. The principal met with both of us together, then separate. In retaliation, he cut me on the arm with the knife. The principal didn't believe me. There was no punishment. We were to stay on separate playground equipment or be anywhere near each other. He bullied me for the next 5 years until he left the school. That's when the memories came back. It had quite an impact on me since I was 11 at the time, I looked much older. I easily attracted male attention which lead to sexual harassment and further traumatization. I was in a long term psych facility at the age of 12 because of a suicide attempt. There was a male staff member who seemed to enjoy destroying the teen girls there. When he got to me the first time, he wanted to know every detail of my abuse. When I got upset, he laughed at me and made fun of me. Later, he made comments on the way I looked and my eating habits. Telling me skinniness was unattractive on me. If we wanted out of that place, we had to admit everything he said was right. I did wahat I could to get out of that abusive place, I got out in 2 months. Many years later, I was 18, I met a man 11 years older than me. I liked him alot and he had shown some interest in me. He later convinced me to leave the country with him. My home situation has always been bad and still is. I went with him. We ended up getting married, at his insistence, after only three months of knowing each other, becoming homeless, and eventually returning to the US. We lived with his family, I started to get over his brainwashing, saw how abusive he really was. He had been taking advantage of me sexually, I started refusing him. He then started raping me. At first it was only a few times, then when we lived on our own, it became more frequent, along with other forms of daily abuse. He did it to show "dominance" because he refused to work, spent my money on drugs and alcohol, and slept/watched TV/got high all day while I was at work. He became more violent and paranoid over time. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't cry multiple times a day from the constant abuse. I tried leaving him, he would threaten to kill himself, psychologically torture me or physically threaten me until I changed my mind, or promise me things would be better. The turning point came after I possibly became pregnant, he was going to force me to have an abortion. I miscarried due to the abuse. I couldn't go to the doctor, if my parents found out, they told me they would completely disown me if I got pregnant. A month later, he raped me in my sleep and a few days later tried to strangle me. I did move out but later came back at his and his parent's insistence. I saw no other way out, I didn't want to be divorced at such a young age (be damaged goods) and I couldn't handle living with my abusive parents again so I tried to take my own life. After getting out of the psych hospital, (who had been no help whatsoever in helping me get away from him or my family), I did get the paperwork together to divorce him, of course, he convinced me to tear them up. A month later, I did file the papers and tell him it was over. We finally separated after he held me hostage in my car, for the umpteenth time and tried to take me to another city. The divorce came through a few months later. We had been married a little over a year, I was 20.

Remember how scary the first day of high school was? New building, new classes, new faces. I have known many people in my grade since kindergarten, but now seniors are walking around, with car keys and established boyfriends. Many of them scare me. “Ok, let's just find first period.” Having gotten through every class but one, my nerves started to settle. Biology was the last period of the day, with Teacher. I walk in the door and recognize some people as she starts assigning our seats alphabetically. I find my seat near the front of the room and turn around and see the back of a guy’s head. “Nice hair.” I would soon learn that his name was Name 2 and I found him attractive. I had yet to speak to him and refused to allow myself to develop a crush. This would continue until early September when we were seated next to each other. My reservations about developing a crush quickly vanished. I was telling anyone I trusted about him. I was flirting and having a good time. At the end of one class, I asked him if he wanted to study sometime at the library. During homecoming, I direct messaged him on Instagram to see if he was there. The day after homecoming, I went into an inpatient facility for unrelated mental health issues. I was gone for about a month. During this time, I had hoped that when I returned we would still be seated together. This was not the case. After I came back, I wanted to keep my head down and get my work done. For three months this is exactly what I did. From late October to December, I had a crush but was less giddy to tell anyone. Once we returned for the spring semester, things started to quickly go downhill. I am sitting at a table in the back with one of Name 2’s best friends, Name. One day, he starts prodding me to learn who I have a crush on. I let it slip that it was Name 2 and now the floodgates have opened. Every day at the end of class, Name would call Name 2 over as he would ask me disturbing questions about his or Name 2’s genitalia. Or things about my body. I was truly appalled. When I told him who I liked, I never asked for this. I never wanted this. This went on until early February. My seat did not change for a while, but theirs did. Name 2, Name, and his two other friends were all seated at the front of the room. The desks lined the sides of the room and they were directly diagonal from me. With the four of them together, it was a gang mentality to harass and intimidate me. It felt as if every day I would hear my name and a sexual comment. This all culminated one day when we watched a Bill Nye episode on the law of attraction. I was uncomfortable during the entire thing. Name 2 and his friends must have picked up on this, as once the episode was over, I heard Name yelling my name from across the room. “Survivor Name, Survivor Name! Look at this!” To my absolute horror, I turn around to see one guy in a chair and another straddling him, pretending to be making out. It was clearly supposed to be Name 2 and I. There were a few minutes left in class, and I was trying to hold back tears. “Was this really happening? Am I a joke?” I tried to ignore it but realized it had gotten out of hand. I talked to Teacher Name after class to tell her what was happening. I break down in tears as she explains this is bullying and harassment. She brought me to the psychologist where I cried to have my dad pick me up. “I’m done!” At this moment I truly felt hopeless and saw how bad the situation had gotten. I had tied my self-worth and identity to a crush. I had direct messaged Name 2 to end the harassment. Nothing happened, but I still wanted to believe that he would tell his friends to knock it off and that deep down he was a good person. Instead, he was a bystander who let it happen, while actively seeing the pain and suffering I experienced. I was no longer allured or attracted to him. This attraction turned to anger and resentment and would remain that way until I graduated high school. Looking back, I do remember my first day of high school. I found first period and every other class. My last period of the day would cause me so much stress that I would get the shakes. I would cry to my English teacher to let me stay. While this used to be one of the worst times in my life, I have learned so much about myself that I could have never expected. I am so much stronger than I ever realized. My self-worth is not connected to someone else. I am worth it and no boy can ever take that away from me. Thank you for reading my story.

I think I may have been a victim of sexual abuse when i was a child. I still have clear memories of what happened. I'm not sure if what my brain thinks is due to it but, I constantly think of sex and need to masterbate most of the time. I also tend to find older men attractive. I'm not sure what to think of this and would like help explaining, since I've been exposed to sexual content from a young age and still constantly have the thoughts in my mind.

Almost three years ago to this day I was sexually assaulted. I was a senior in high school pursuing a relationship with a freshman frat boy at university. We’d been in a sort of relationship for about a month, including regularly hooking up. He claimed to be a “feminist” and an ally, my dream man. I was hopeful this would be THE relationship. To this day I still regret idealizing him so much. I won’t get into the details but one night i woke up to my pants off and my underwear at my knees. I had nowhere to go at 2am and didn’t want to cause a scene so there I lay, next to my rapist, for hours. I never had thought anything like that would happen to me. I had been a strong ally and activist and thought i knew exactly what a survivor is supposed to do. However i didn’t define myself as a survivor for months to come. I told a few of my friends who were immediately supportive. I even confronted my rapist the very next day, feeling extremely in charge of my own body and empowered. However, within a few days word got around to his friends and brothers that I had accused him of rape. I started getting harassed on all my social media accounts: calling me a liar, an attention whore, you get the idea. It was only then that I decided to report. Nothing happened. Like many others here I threw myself into empowerment and activism work, thinking helping others would help myself or at least distract me. I went to college thousand miles away, thinking if I don’t have to see him it won’t have happened. Except I did see him everywhere, instagram, facebooks “people you may know” and somehow every-time I went home for breaks. Even tho every time I saw him I felt like i was dying, I claimed to be healed and the role model survivor, because no one could see my struggle. However, despite all this I neglected to acknowledge and help myself in the first place. When I got involved in sexual assault programs on my campus is when I decided to empower myself in my recovery. I contacted everyone who had taken my report or was involved in my reporting process until they gave me a reason as to why nothing had came from my report. I reported almost three ago and only within the last year has he faced any repercussion by being forced to voluntarily resign from his fraternity. I am no where near the culmination of my recovery, as the case is still open but just still being active, alive, and being able to do the work I do has empowered me to put my recovery in the spotlight. I am forever thankful for a community that allowed me to empower myself.

How does one even know what happened? It’s so far locked away. What if I’m making it all up. I’m so scared that I’ve painted a negative image of these people in my mind for nothing. But then again, I remember one thing clearly. Agony. Pure agony. As I felt helpless. And in the future when I felt unable to say no to any older or larger man, because it hadn’t worked in the past. Why would it start working now? As someone who believed that everything happens for a reason, I struggle to find any sort of comfort in that statement. It’s all messed up now. I know what happened. Maybe I doubt myself because I don’t want it to be true. After my dad died, there was no one left to protect me from these people. I was all alone. Living in a household full of young females. The only solace I’m able to find is that it was only me, not them. I was the one without a say. Whether I want to acknowledge it or not, I am a victim. Genuinely. Even if what I know physically happened didn’t, I’d be in the same boat. Harassed. I shouldn’t have met up with them. I should’ve trusted my gut, what my father taught me. But fear wrecked my common sense. Almost 3 years later and I am just now remembering what my brain tried so desperately to hide from me. I always knew there was something wrong with those experiences. But shied away from any sort of label. I am no longer scared of you. It is time to speak my truth. You. Raped. Me

I’m 20 now; when I was 13 a childhood friend started to see me in a more (clearly) sexual light. I wasn’t very attractive as a child (big curly hair, acne, too tall for my age), so when he began to show interest I didn’t discourage it. I even flirted back. We met at our old middle school, once, before our freshman year of highschool. He didn’t want to look at me, he only wanted to touch me. He kissed me in a way that’s irrepetible because of how violating it was. Once we started highschool, he asked to come over to my house. I thought he was just joking because it was 9pm at the time. He took me behind my apartment complex and wouldn’t listen to me when i said stop. I told one of my sophomore friends, who reported it to the school as a sexual assault. He and I had separate meetings with the school, and our schedules were changed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about what happened, because of how popular he was. He began going around our school telling everyone he had r***d me (he hadn’t). Then he flipped the narrative that, of course i was lying. I would hear girls talking about me when I was sitting right in front of them. I wanted my story to be heard. I wanted everyone to know what he did to me. Nobody listened. Nobody cared. Nobody apologized to me. “He didnt do it to me, and he’s still my friend, sooo….” is what I heard from 80% of the girls that I told. That experience cracked me. When I was 15, I was (ACTUALLY) r***d by a 34 year old man. I felt like I was ruined goods. I felt like nobody cared about what happened to me, nobody cared that I was so traumatized that i didn’t care if i lived or died. Later that year, I met a 19 year old who got me on fentanyl. I would overdose 4 times in front of him. After the last one, he told me I had wasted money and product with my overdose. We stayed together until I was 16.5 and he was about to be 21. He ‘cheated’ on me with a 14 year old and countless of his friends. By 17, I realized my Prince Charming was never going to come save me, and I had to do it myself. I decided to start my own life. Stop living in the past, and get my shit together. I enrolled in community college hoping to get my nursing degree eventually. Realized that wasn’t the right path for me, and now I’m 2 months away from graduating from a prestigious cosmetology school & am the executive assistant at a 5 star salon. For some of us, it’s on ourselves to pick the pieces up and put everything back together. Now that I am 20 years old, I feel that i’ve lost so much time suffering in my silence, so much youth wasted as an anxious puddle who didn’t want to be perceived. Live for your future. Live for the laughter and the smiles. Every day we make it through, is a day we accomplished. Some days will be better than others, but we’re always moving forwards, never backwards.