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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.

My name is Survivor and when I was around age 3, my father started raping me. My mother helped hold me down. He was raping her, and she offered me up in her place. This continued until age 23, maybe 24, shortly before my wedding. By the time I was 6, he was raping other members of my family too. He’d come into my room at night and would throw my nightgown up into the headboard and then I’d have to wait my turn in fear and naked shame while others were raped. We had a large waterbed and I still remember the bed rolling up and down, up, and down, up, and down like on a boat. Once done, he wiped me down roughly with a red shop rag he used in cleaning the garage. It allowed him to keep the rag around to smell it and hold it close with no one questioning why it was so dirty with red stains. Most of the time, my dad was friendly and polite. But once he turned into the monster no one did anything to stop him. He never did these things when he was nice. Only when he was the monster. But he used the nice times to make it easier to attack. He would lull you into a false sense of safety and peace which really made you question your intuition and gut instincts that this was a bad man. This made it easier for him to sexually assault other children and adults. As I got older, my parents controlled the narrative of our lives, every aspect was carefully controlled. Like my mom knowing how to force miscarriages. The first abortion forced on me was when I was 15. I don’t know how I managed to make it to adulthood. I continue to remember more and more of the abuse by other family and church members. And other things my dad did within the church where he was pastor and then later deacon. But I still can’t talk about those memories. I think my dad felt like anything he did was inevitable, therefore, never his fault because he couldn’t control himself and when it happened God would forgive him, so it was all right. I know this because I overheard him grooming another family member to do the same things when he was 11 years old. Males in our family were groomed to be abusers too. I was groomed too. To always be the abused. Forced to keep silent, I learned quickly what happens to people who stand up to my dad. They die or get assaulted. As you can imagine, I had terrible anxiety growing up about being sexually assaulted and worked hard to fade into the background. I thought that might help. I thought it mattered what I wore, color of my hair, how much I weighed. It’s taken years and it will probably continue to take years to unlearn the lies I was taught. The worry made me constantly ill with one thing after another-- I got cancer when I was 32 and before that incapacitating vertigo and motion sickness. My parents met while working down in Texas for an independent fundamental Baptist preacher. Lester Roloff—an Independent Fundamental Baptist preacher who opened homes across the country for “troubled” children, teens, and adults. He liked to say he was saving dope fiends, whores, and hippies. I believe many of the children in the homes had already experienced abuse growing up and Lester Roloff homes should have been a safe place to heal. Instead, the kids met caretakers like my parents. My mom was in a charge of the 16 and older home and my dad flew around the country raising money and preaching the party line: men were akin to gods and women were lower than dirt—their only worth was in being a virgin and then baby factories once married. Very masochistic and minimizing of abuse of any kind, my parents ate up the evil rhetoric being preached from the pulpit My parents eventually took their brand of abuse from Lester Roloff’s out into the churches and communities where we lived-from Texas to Washington and eventually into Alaska. He disappeared in a plane over the waters near Anchorage in 2006. The events surrounding his disappearance were always very suspect but intense pressure from my family kept me quiet. Every day for almost three years straight, a family member called and reminded me talking about “our family issues” was causing generational sin to 4 generations. The pressure to keep quiet and do what my family told me to do was so significant I would have rather died than disappoint them. It wasn’t until I set out to heal from all the trauma, that I found out my dad faked his death. I had always been told since he was gone, there was nothing to be done for what I experienced growing up. But let me tell you, knowing he’s still out there perpetrating on other children and men and women really compelled me to come forward. I finally felt free to start talking. Getting past the pressure to stay silent was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Harder, even, than fighting cancer. I have spent many years in intensive CBT, EMDR and Polyvagal therapy learning how to process my wounds in a healthy way. I had pushed for criminal and civil suits against my perpetrators but the Texas statute of limitations don’t allow for justice to be done. So now, I spend my time now speaking on panels, podcasts, and community platforms about the intersections of trauma, faith, and advocacy. One of the biggest honors of my life has been sharing my story and advocating for Trey’s Law on the Texas Senate floor in Spring 2025. Forcing a sexual assault victim to keep quiet is what allowed people like my parents to continue their mistreatment for so many years. I will do what I can to make sure justice isn’t minimized by NDAs and Statute of Limitations. My efforts connect me with survivors, true crime audiences, mental health communities, and faith groups seeking to understand and confront abuse. I invest my time in mentoring survivors, creating resources for healing, and building digital tools to expand access to supportive materials. Because living a life whole and healthy is what I really want for me, all the victims and their families. We make our own opportunities to heal.

Having YOUR voice is the most important thing that you can have as an abuse victim. After going through abuse for multiple years at Location, I felt like everything was stripped away from me. My dignity, self respect, confidence, happiness, and strength felt like were taken by the age of 9. Summer after summer i went to this dark place that was supposed to be a positive experience. My parents thought they were dropping me off at a place to help grow my walk with the Lord. What they didnt know is that Name 2 told me that if I did the sexual acts he wanted me to do, he promised that I would become closer to God. He was a sick individual that constantly broke Location's guidelines and the law. The worst part is that Location had insight and knew these events were happening but did nothing. Leaving camp and going back home I remember feeling empty and depressed. You are not at a maturity level at this age to be able to grasp what has happened and how to process it. I went to child advocacy centers to get professional help and struggled to even talk about what happened because it did not make sense in my head and could not verbalize the events or the impact it had on me. As i moved into my teen years I became more depressed. Every night I would have a dream of Name 2 abusing me and I felt like every night I went to sleep, I was going to be abused again. The fear, anger and depression I went through weighed so heavy on me that I was close to not wanting to make it to the next day. After years of this cycle, I decided I needed change to be able to live a full life. I started to to work on my physical, spiritual and mental health. The biggest part of this is having your voice. You have to be able to share your experience so that you can get the help you need and to express the pain you have been through. That is why I am thankful for Trey's Law. This removes the ability for organizations like Location to silence victims after they put them through horrendous experiences. It gives the power back to the Survivor. Treys Law will save lives. It will allow for someone to stick up for themselves. It will allow for less criminals/organizations to get away with what is the worst crime someone can commit. If anyone is reading this and needs help, I am always happy to listen to your voice! Name

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.

Hearing other people's stories make em feel not alone

Being in a relationship with the person who took advantage of you does not invalidate what happened. I'm still learning to come to terms with this but it's the fact that's helping me to heal. I was in a relationship with an emotionally and physically manipulative partner for over a year and could not have told anyone how toxic it was for me until looking back on it afterwards. I still think about that one night that made the difference, the one that I like to think woke me up. It certainly wasn't the first time I had been pressured into rough sex I didn't want or enjoy, and it certainly wasn't the worst situation he had put me in to have it, but it was the very first time I found the courage to say "no, stop", and yet it still didn't make a difference. I remember having to lay next to him the rest of the night, crying silently while he was there smiling like nothing had happened. I went through a lot of personal changes after finally getting out of that relationship. I still have trouble with trust, in romantic relationships and within myself. But I want to share my story because I wish I could've heard then that I was not as alone as I felt. I wish someone had told me that just because I cared so much about him didn't mean that I was the one at fault, that I wasn't crazy or weak for thinking things might change, and that I needed to put myself and my well-being first for a change. I'm here to say, to anyone facing something similar, you are not alone. You are worth so much and are loved by so many. You are so much stronger than you realize.

being a COCSA survivor. It has been very confusing. It happened almost everytime i saw my cousin. He was only 1 year older than me. He would show me porn and would explain it to me. All in detail. Then he would tell me to do sexual acts infront of him or he do sexual acts infront of me. He would always say he liked my moans and my body... Always wanting to take a peak of me undressed. "I love you, it's our little secret". He would always say. I didn't really realise it was SA until i learned about COCSA. I was only 7-10 when these things happened. He made me dirty like him

At the tender age of 9 I was molested by a family member. This went on for 3 years. When I did mention it to my immediate family I broke down and was admitted to the hospital for a period of 48 hours. I was truly saddened and really felt alone. I carried this burden on for over 20 something years where afterwards I befriended someone that physically abused me. I ignored the red flags and in order to keep my children safe I told the perpetrator that I will stay. He would hit me in the back of my head many times to this day I have a small protruding disc in the back of my skull. The last incident when I knew that I couldn't take anymore and that my children would be safe is when he tried to throw me down my stairs after straddling me while choking me. I prayed and I asked God for strength. This was in Date. I found the strength to heal, seek therapy and start my own nonprofit (Nonprofit name) which serves Women and Children of domestic violence with temporary shelter, counseling, and 10-week trauma sessions. I now know my Worth and I know that I am a Woman that matters.

It has been over a year since I stopped reading emails and letters and opening packages of self help books. I have not seen my mother in four years and I will never visit again to be dismissed, invalidated and used as a prop on her stage. In order to support her narrative of how wrong, how disordered, how crazy I must be, my mother has been able to ignore her own heinous immorality towards her own daughter, and appears to believe she is the victim because I have cut her out of my life forever. She had no outrage when I told her a friend of the family had molested me. I told her when I was 27, and repeated it when I was 40, when it was clear she had done nothing to break her alliance. She continued her loyal friendship with this sexual predator for over two more decades, knowing he preyed upon not just me but many other children in our community. With great dismay and sadness, I have finally realized she is incapable of caring, and she is a monster. I raised my kids to be suspicious of inappropriate adults, and to stand up for themselves. I wish I'd had that courage but I'm proud I could break the cycle. I spent most of my life trying to be helpful, loyal and understanding to a mother who didn't know how to be a mother. I'm done now. Mother's Day is a day of mourning; I am still amazed and baffled that people have loving, protective, loyal mothers they cherish. I am fortunate however, to have many others who care about me and thus fortified, began the journey towards truth, wholeness and self-worth. Thanks to your website and many others, I have been validated and gained understanding and courage. Still plodding ahead, and gaining insight and strength.

It was my freshman year of college at a frat party. I’d only started drinking about 4 months prior. Only about 15-20 minutes after arriving at the party, I took a drink from a friend of a friend - Not knowing it had been roofied. Within about 10-15 minutes, my memory went completely. My friend reports seeing me glassy eyed, stumbling and very unwell. She did everything she could to sober me up, but made a decision to leave me at the party in a bed so I wouldn’t get in trouble with our small Christian college. I don’t blame her for this decision and never have - I probably would’ve done the same thing. The next morning I woke up, no pants on, next to a man I didn’t know. In the coming weeks, I learned he took photos of me that night and sent them to his entire frat group chat. He proceeded to stalk me around my campus, send me texts like “you look so good naked” and harass me further. My life was a living hell and to cope with it all, I dissociated from myself and developed an eating disorder to gain back some sense of control in my life. It took me a year to finally open up to my mom and sister about what I’d experienced. This was a decision sort of thrust upon me when I decided to report my rapist to my school and they told me I’d need support through the process. That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and while I was told they couldn’t do anything because it was my word against his, I am so truly glad I did. Telling my story opened up my journey to healing - One that number years later has allowed me to raise awareness for sexual assault and gow we can prevent it, as well as provide a support system for other individuals like me.

Acceptance with this dissonance. as long as I can remember I was never enough. too much phantasy and def not fitting in society´s expectations. Eventhough I had friends I always felt I don´t really fit in this group. I separated myself a lot. I drank too much, I talked shit and I used people against myself to hurt myself more. Slowly internalising the thoughts that raised in my brain. " you are not good enough" " you will never get got in art so don't do it" "you are unworthy of loving" At age nineteen the real traumas began. My sister got raped and I got raped half a year later. My already broken soul of even prior events got even more hurt and I completely lost faith in myself and in life. I hold on on those negative intrusive thoughts. " you are bad " " you are unworthy of loving" . Always. I got addicted to these thoughts. They prevented myself of living the life I am supposed to live. ( being a creative outgoing spiritual person) and I had depression and no one really realised me. Even I didn't realised it until recently. I never really opened up to people. I always got hurt. Hurt by people I loved. But I wanna open up. I already lost so much. (self-worth) I can't loose so much more. I hope that one day I am gonna be this vibrant shiny girl that I used to be at the age of five. Someone who loves themselves without any doubts. I am ready for my healing journey. I want to share my events. And I am ready to live my life to the fullest. this dissonance. I probably gotta accept in order to live the life I am supposed to live. and that's a loving one!

I was raised by a misogynistic narcissist so in my early 20s I thought my boyfriend's behavior was at least better than I was raised with. His behaviour spiralled over the years and there was gaslighting, financial abuse and finally rape. I didn't see the warning signs, sex would be very rough but I thought I enjoyed it. He had lost his job and had not worked for a year at 23, he used to smoke weed and stay up all night playing videogames. More than a few times I woke up to him masturbating so vigorously the bed would shake. One day I was sitting on the loo and I was in a bit of pain and I noticed semen in my knickers that I didn't know how it got there. I remember the ringing sound in my ears, but I decided to ignore it, I mean he couldn't possibly have. Then one night I woke up and he was rummaging in my pajama shorts and I realized he was penetrating me. I remember freezing in the dark and then calling his name. He said he wasn't doing anything, rolled over and went to sleep. I repressed this memory completely. I dumped him a few months later and thankfully moved on with my life. With my current partner (a wonderful man), we were having sex one night early in our relationship and the incident that happened with my ex hit me like a trolley and I had a flashback and a full body panic attack. I had to face what had happened to me then, I thought I was crazy and that no one would believe me, it's not your classic rape case. The incident tortured me mentally for about a year and thankfully I eventually sought help. I still think about revenge every day and am afraid to run into my ex in the city where I live. But we carry on. I am grateful to so many women who have shared their stories or managed to find justice when they report they were attacked in their sleep. We are a powerful bunch us ladies, and I am so thankful I could share my story here today. Bless you all xx

When I was 13 was sexually assaulted by a person I'd rather not name. I've known him for a while yet never spoke out because I like him. He never saw it as sexual assault because it was "only the fingers" Whenever I think about it, I get sick to my stomach. Knowing I had no strength to stop him. I cry everytime I think about it and I'm too scared to tell anyone. Please anyone, what should I do. What can I do.

I am not even sure where to begin but I am struggling lately and have come to realize that although my main abuser might be dead, I haven't dealt with a lot of feelings. I feel like I was always a target. I had no self-confidence as a child. I was painfully shy. I had a speech impediment and was always bullied in school and moving to 10 different elementary schools didn't help me make friends. I had a critical, narcissistic mother I could never please. I was first sexually abused at age 8 by an older teenage cousin. My mother allowed me to stay the night knowing that his father, my uncle, was a pedophile and molested many children. I didn't find this out until years later. He was my favorite cousin of course. I looked up to him. Went to all his track meets. He was grooming me of course. Why else would an 18-year-old male cousin want to spend so much time with his 8-year-old cousin? Back then no one spoke much about sexual abuse. Or sex at all. At least in my household. It was dirty and you will go to Hell. That is all I was ever told. I thought it was a bad dream for many years. Except it was so vivid. I could hear the music playing. Open Arms by Journey, I could smell and almost taste the round, white, powdery almond cookies my aunt served me before sending me to bed in a room with my male cousin his friend name (also male). To this day I still cannot fathom why my aunt would put an 8 yr old little girl in a bed with 2 teenage boys. It haunts me. Was she just as sick as my uncle and my cousin? All I found out later as an adult is my uncle molested all 3 of my male cousins. One turned into pedophile, one fought those urges his whole life and lived a sad, lonely life, and other one killed himself and died alone in an alleyway at age 40. I laid in that bed that night and my whole life changed. I woke up to my cousin fumbling around with my pants. I kept moving away as much as I could. I tried to pretend I was still asleep. I knew he knew I was awake. He didn't care. He did what he wanted. I just laid there. Tears silently rolling down my face. Then I forgot about it. Pretended it didn't happen, but it kept popping up in my head. I kept telling myself it was a horrible dream and dirty. When I was almost 17 I confided in my cousin. Girl cousin. She told me the same thing had happened to her while she was watching TV with him once. I decided I should tell my mother. That was a mistake. She didn't do anything. All she did was make me feel worse. Like it was my fault and she told everyone. He was still allowed around. To every Holiday. One Thanksgiving when he was at our house, he cornered me in my room. I thought I was about to pass out from fear. He said, " I am sorry about all the times I did things to you." That messed me up more. I had thought it was just one time. So, then I realized I probably forgot or blocked out other times. I could not stop playing things over and over in my head trying to remember. I could not wait to get out of my house and away from my mother. I never dated in high school. Never even kissed a boy until age 19. Yet my mother always called me a whore. When I moved out and started working, I felt free for the first time. I was saving myself for marriage, but every boy I dated and told that to would dump me. By age 22 I started thinking I would never find anyone. Stupid. I wanted to get far away from my mom and then I met a guy who was in the military. There were a million red flags. I ignored them. He drank. I didn't. His parents were both alcoholics. But he lived in state. So I wrote to him a couple years while he was in Japan stationed. Then he suddenly got out of military early. Wouldn't tell me why. I didn't care I just wanted to move. So I packed up and moved from California to state. I almost didn't when right before I was to leave he got a DUI. He was only 20. I was 22. He had also lied about his age. As a Christian the DUI really worried me and the lying about age and an almost 3-year age difference. Long story short, I of course ended up pregnant a year later. Twins. My parents didn't meet him until the day of the marriage. They didn't like him. Once married the first strange thing was when I was pregnant with twins and about 7 months along. I woke up and he had a flashlight and was between my legs doing things to me. I was horrified. I had no idea what to say. Through our marriage the main issues was drinking. I never allowed any alcohol in the house. Well, he took a job on the railroad. He was home once a week. I thought all was fine. For seven years he was home once a week. Apparently, he was drinking daily. We had 2 more kids in those 7 years and raising 4 kids alone was hard with no family around. We moved every year or 2 also. Finally, he went into management and was home every night. Thinks took turn for worse then. He could no longer hide his drinking. He was getting abusive. Emotionally to me. He stopped wanting sex most of the time and then I found dating sites, porn sites. Then he started raping me. He would wait until I was asleep. Then I would wake up to him having sex with me. I freaked out the first time. He acted like he thought I was awake. Next time he told me I am his wife, and it isn't rape. I told him don't ever do that again he knows I have been molested in my sleep and how awful that is to do to someone! He just didn't care. I finally said I was leaving if he didn't go to rehab for his drinking. that got him into marriage counseling. They told him he was raping me. That was the end of that. He didn't like to hear it. Then he got a girlfriend. I am disabled and he blamed me. Said he was sick of extra work. He was the laziest person. He was spending money from our retirement. I had always been a stay at home mom and had recently had spinal fusion and because he was spending our money on drugs and alcohol I went and drove a schoolbus in pain! I was not extra work for him. I took care of everything including children with kidney disease, and genetic conditions and chronic health issues in and out of hospitals all their lives. I filed for divorce. The abuse was enough. I was so shocked when after 21 long years of marriage he walked away and abandoned his 4 kids. No support, no visits, nothing. Due to his alcoholism I was grateful but sad for my children. THEN 2 years after my divorce was finalized my youngest baby girl confided in me something that broke my heart. She said, "Mom I have to tell you something disgusting" my heart sank. She said her dad molested her when I had been out of state for my friends funeral. She was 8 years old. We cried. I couldn't believe this horrible thing happened again to my baby!!! The guilt. I immediately reported it. Nothing was done. That was more devastating. I had prepared her for what would happen and then they did nothing. Karma in the end took care of that evil man. He died at age 46 from abusing his drugs and alcohol. He died alone. Like he deserved. My kids are Doctors, Nurses, and a Businessman. They didn't let that evil man define them. I didn't let him take my happiness. I had a very hard life. I can't even write about most of it. I never let my hard life or an evil person steal my happiness. He didn't determine my happiness I made my own happiness. If I had let my difficult life make me unhappy my children would have had a unhappy mom and had an unhappy childhood and not have turned into successful adults probably. I have bad days. Bad weeks even. Like this week. However tomorrow is a new day and I get to try again. I feel better sharing some of what I experienced. Thank you to anyone who takes time to read it. Sorry it is babbling in places lol..

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

I was 17 years old and I started working at Location 1. I was estranged from my family and I was living house the house and getting a job to try to finish high school and to get my own place.So I was going to school all day and working from 3 to 11 every night. Back then the minimum wage was under two dollars an hour so you can only imagine how hard I had to work to save. The manager of the company had a disability with his hand so he wasn’t able to do much physical stuff with that particular hand. So we come to work and he would pick on just a few girls but mainly me. Yell and scream at me he called me names he called me horrible sexual names he tell me that I was no good and then I had to go clean toilets for four hours or I’ll be fired. And he would follow me into the women’s restroom and try to put his hands on me and he wouldn’t stop talking about things sexually. I felt so uncomfortable I felt scared I was 17 I didn’t know what to do. This went on repeatedly being trapped in the room in the ladies room or being trapped in the corner of the kitchen always having his hands all over me I did everything I could to pull myself away from him but he kept touching me and if I was pulling myself away he would start swearing and calling me horrendous names while he continued to threatening my job. He threaten to call the police because I was 17 he threaten to call the state if I didn’t let him touch me and kiss me. I was so scared I was so worried and I just kept pulling myself away from him as he was literally throwing himself on me and it was just horrifying he was touching me everywhere he was trying to kiss me he was pushing me down and I just despised going to work the next day because I knew it would happen all over again. I was so scared that he was going to fire me and report me to the state for being a minor. But after Seven days and my first paycheck I just couldn’t go back anymore. So I just didn’t go back I didn’t call I just didn’t show up. I am 55 years old and still affects me to this day. Then it continued my next job was a team working for Person 1 in Location 2. The Person 2 used to corner me in the copy room with your hands on me and one went as far as following me home again terrified. He sexually assaulted me and I never said anything I just never went back to work again. Then I took a job in wises supermarket and Location 3 in the meat and bakery department thinking I could be away from people. And the meat butcher used to corner me in the freezer he’s trying to kiss me constantly is putting his hands on me he’s constantly sexual comments it just never ended I managed to push through for a year of putting up with that but then eventually I quit. I went to school for nursing and then I got a job working with doctors and they did the same thing one particular doctor or dentist would body shame me make me feel like I was less of a woman but then he would make comments about my Feminine body parts continually. It just got to the point where I felt like there was just no way around this if I wanted to work I had to put up with it. I wish things were different back then like they are today. The PTSD that I suffer is tremendous. But I would love to be able to help others

He was my friend. More than a friend — he was my brother. He knew what I'd been through, and he still tried to hurt me. He played it off like it was a joke, and now he's upset that I said I would never feel safe around him again. I don't feel safe in my own skin anymore. I have to see him for one more year before I graduate, but I have to live with what he did for the rest of my life. I hope the guilt eats him alive.

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 had a date over to my house. When he had got there I had already had a bottle of wine. He brought a bottle of wine for me with him. I continued to drink until I blacked out and all I can remember is him showering my own vomit off me and eventually him raping me. I went to therapy that week and laughed off the question “can you consent after two bottles of wine?” I told everyone at the time I had had sex with him. I completely blocked it out for two years. However during this time it really impacted me. Due to a multitude of factors I attempted suicide 4 times while I was in denial about the fact that I was raped. 2 years after the rape I was getting ready to go play a sport I was well versed in with some new people which would include men. I got incredibly angry at the thought of men telling me how to play a sport I knew so much about. When I asked myself why I was so angry. It finally hit me that what had happened 2 years prior was rape. I contacted the local sexual violence centre. Who have now been able to offer me counselling. Since I admitted to myself that it was rape and it happened to me I’ve been better able to deal with the emotions that come with it. The first week after realising what happened I used to walk down the street with clenched fists terrified of every man I saw. Thankfully through talking to friends and sharing my story this is not the case anymore. I found it so bizzare that I had essentially blocked out the fact that I was raped for two years. But on reading up on trauma it made me feel more normal for my response. In terms of legal action I have no evidence the man was even in my house so unfortunately I cannot defend myself in this way. It would be my word against his. This is upsetting to me but I am ready to move on with my life. I am studying in college now and have a fantastic understanding, caring boyfriend who respects me to his core.