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I was with my ex and I had just started some new tablets that made me sleepy. I tell my ex that I’m going to sleep and he continues to play his video game. I wake in a daze around an hour later and he is raping me and enjoying it. I react by making noises out of fear and wait for him to finish up the act , I just froze in fear. Once it was over I was mad he never got consent but he told me that he thought I wanted it. It’s been nearly a year and I’m still not over it

It started as sexual harassment. And I let it happen. Do not let it happen to you! I was a college intern working on my supply-chain management major. In business school you know you don’t just get a degree and POOF! A job is magically waiting for you. Unless you already have connections. I was a single woman on financial aid and had squat for family connections. I needed to make some connections while still in school that I could use to climb the ladder. It is a very competitive world. A time when we don’t care so much where we work as long as it has prospects of advancement and making money. I was interning at the corporate offices for a rental car company. I got my first choice for a class in which we had to intern at a real company. My group of four was in their logistics offices and we had no clear job at the time but my school had sent students for a while so we had a contact person and some loose idea of a project that my group of four had to put together and execute for our grade. Well that was kind of of dud and I went along with the bad idea of planning more efficient distribution routes for their cars entering the fleet. It was naive because the company had real pros who designed the system. But, because of my feminine wiles, I got invited to come in and help in my free time by a top manager. Just me. I jumped at the opportunity and on my available days I showed up early in the morning and tried to be like part of the team. It was a very masculine environment. I tried to hang in spite of the pretenses for my special treatment. “You’re not one of those feminist types who go crying to HR if a man gives you a compliment or a pat on the backside, are you?” The man who first invited me had asked. We’ll call him XX. I assured him I was not, anticipating his expected answer. “Work hard, play hard,” was something I said in my denial of values he was obviously opposed to. So the couple times XX introduced me as his mistress I went along with the joke. Another stupid mistake. As an example of my environment, after a male Y in the department first showed me how to use part of a program that calculates stock outages, he had me sit and try it and gave me a massage I did not ask for early in the morning. Well XX came up and made a joke about Y getting his hands of his girl. They had some bro moment where the male Y asked him if he was serious, saying something about XX’s wife, to which XX backed down and said something like “It’s just a joke. I’d love to in my fantasies, but she’s company property, brother.” Company property??! I was sitting right there! I tensed up but tried to pretend I was so absorbed in the computer training as XX left and male Y went back to massaging me, but this time more boldly. He got down my lower back and upper buttock then went down the arms to my thighs, stopping me from doing any work as he blatantly brushed his forearms and hands against my chest. I felt so weak and almost paralyzed by the time I forced myself to stand up to go use the restroom, stopping it. I could have just done that at the beginning but did not. Later hat same day, XX had me go to lunch with him and have a beer at a bar and grill with a pool table. I was 20 but they did not ask for my ID because I was with XX. I hardly ever played pool and while we waited for our food he “showed” me how to play. He made fun of the cliché on movies and television where a man has a woman bend over the pool table to shoot just so he can push his crotch against her backside in a suggestive manger and lean over her with his arms on each side of her to show her how to slide the stick. But while he joked about it he actually did those things to me! That was a good day for my two main molesters and an awful day for me. XX hugged me as we stood up giggling and apparently his hands now had a license to molest my body whenever he wanted. I got numb to it in some ways, but emotionally more on edge. My butt was grabbed or spanked playfully in the department, even by male Y. A few other men were very flirtatious. My shoulders were rubbed, hugs on even minor greetings with XX and finally I was supposed to get used to little pecks on the lips too. I felt like I was in a constant state of mental anguish and defensiveness. My body could be attacked anytime. But I did not defend myself! I would say clearly to XX and some others that I wanted to be respected and considered one of the guys and have a job there when I graduated and they affirmed it. Both main abusers encouraged me, but still sexually harassed me. With my moronic blessing! The semester ended and I kept going in daily during summer break. It was my only lifeline to a possible job after I graduated in a year. I was so groomed that it was not a big leap at all when XX pressured me to give him head in his office. I refused with a smile and head shake and he came back with some rationalization about how I owed him and he really needed it just then. He would not take no for an answer. The first time I lowered myself to kneeling before his desk and took him in my mouth my hands were shaking and I teared up and had to sniffle snot back up. I was the one who was embarrassed! It was like an out of body experience and my mouth dried up to where I had to ask him to drink some of his energy drink. Internally there was a huge change immediately. I was gutted of all pride and self-worth. I was like a zombie. Hardly eating. Lots of coffee. Showing up and doing the reports that had become my responsibility and mechanically giving XX his daily BJ in the afternoon in his small stale office with a small window. I started to have migraines during that summer. I drove home for 4th of July and got so inebriated I ended up sleeping with my much older sister’s ex-husband in the back of his truck. That was a terrible wake up call. I knew I couldn’t pretend much longer without a breakdown so I put my two week in at the rental car place where I was working for free. To secure my future I made sure to keep it all friendly and “you know I’ll be back working here next year”. The idea of all the time and humiliation I had put in being lost to nothing was a major fear. I put myself through two last weeks of it. I had quickie sex with XX twice on and over his desk. I gave into extreme pressure and gave male Y a BJ too when he explicitly made it about a letter of recommendation. He knew about me doing it for XX. He did not even have his own office and we had to use the stairwell. During my final year of school I became aware that I was too traumatized to ever go back there anyway. The extent to which I had been used and abused became obvious to me, where before it had not. As if I had been living in a denial haze. It was a painful time. I was a bit reckless. I got a C in the high level economics elective I took. I said yes to several dates to avoid being alone and either slept with them or freaked out in anger at them. Seeing that I needed the car rental faux-internship on my resume I did email both abusers for letters of recommendation and got a good one from Male Y, but a very impersonal, generic one from XX. I was so dejected and angry. Finally, I told my sister, the one who confronted me about her ex-husband. I TOLD HER EVERYTHING AND THAT WAS MY FIRST STEP TO RECOVERY. To letting out the pain, screaming at myself in the mirror, punching the heavy bag at a boxing gym I joined, and to seeing my first psychologist and psychiatrist. The therapy helped more than the Celexa and antipsych. The support group helped even more. I met two friends for life who have my back in times of sorrow. I have to repeat that it is not my fault that I was abused, even though it kind of was. Don’t let it happen to you! They will take as much as they can from you. Plan your boundaries now and be assertive! Report harassment immediately. Doing so you are being a hero and protecting other women and yourself. If you have already been abused, GET OUT of the situation and talk to someone about it ASAP. There is nothing to be gained by letting the abuse continue! Talking to someone makes it real and lets you start the process of hating less and starting on the path to learning to love yourself again. You deserve real love.

I am a child sexual abuse survivor living in Canada with an NDA for childhood sexual abuse for the past 28 years. When I sought to lift my NDA in 2018 after my abuser had died, the British Columbia court denied me and refused to lift the NDA. So, for the past seven years, I have been advocating both provincial and federal politicians in Canada to ban the misuse of NDAs for childhood sexual abuse survivors. With the passage of Trey's Law in both Texas and Missouri (and more states soon, I hope!), this will place pressure on the Canadian government and the provinces to pass similar legislation. I'm very heartened (and healed too!) by all of the survivors sharing their stories in the Missouri and Texas legislatures. All of this testimony is very important as evidence to prove the long-term extensive damage of an NDA on a childhood abuse victim for ensuing court cases. (This kind of evidence of long-term damage was missing in my BC court case; as a result, my application to lift the NDA was denied). We all need to keep speaking out to change the future for children. We might not be able to change the past, but we can certainly change the present and make the world safer for others. After a great deal of suffering for many years, I can see now that the suffering has had a meaning. As a result, I have become a stronger person. I am not thankful for the abuse, but it seems to me that a greater force in the universe is helping all victims to completely change the world right now. It is an unprecedented moment in human history and we all need to keep moving this incredible change forward. Thank you to Trey's Law and to all the survivors who have spoken in support of Trey's Law.

I was conditioned to think catcalling was a compliment, that if someone held your waist a little too long at work it was just cause "ahh they're just a bit touchy", that it's easier to just "go with it" than to say no and risk their response. It took me years to identify that no matter the degree of your experiences it still is never ok. We often get told sexual violence is one way but it isn't, it comes in many forms and sometimes you can't identify it at first - and that's ok. I am only recently coming to terms with the varying degrees of experiences I've had. I didn't want to say anything because I was made to believe I'd "rock the boat". Well some boats are meant to sink. Let's rebuild the boat so everyone can stay afloat, included and safe.

They say that the people you love are supposed to protect and care for you. I believed that for a very long time, until January 26th, 2021. That day changed my life forever. I had been talking to this boy on and off for over a year, and I loved him very much. Looking back, I was very naive and oblivious to the fact that he was manipulative, spiteful, and all around just a horrible person. He would control every aspect of my life. What I wore, who I hung out with, what I did everyday, what I ate. I was a prisoner. I had him over to watch a movie, and told him before hand I didn’t want to do anything. He came over, snuggled up with me, and we began watching a movie. You know that feeling you get when something wrong but you just don’t know what, I had that feeling, but ignored it. He kissed me, which was okay with me. Then he started groping me and pinning me down so I couldn’t move. I froze up, I had no idea what was happening and I was so scared that if I tried to stop him, he would get angry and just do whatever he wanted to me. So he kept going and I was in such shock I couldn’t move or speak. I finally got him off of me before he could, you know. But he left after he realized what had happened. I have been traumatized in my own mental prison and I didn’t tell anyone. His parent is a cop and I didn’t think anyone would believe me over him. I feel so trapped. Over the course of two months, I’ve developed an eating disorder, insomnia, and I have at least four panic attacks a day. It’s actual hell. Only one person knows what happened, my best friend. She’s been my rock through this. I’m starting to not blame myself as much and point the blame where it’s due. I don’t want him to control me anymore than he used to.

I’m sharing here because I hope I can reach out to other women who may have gone through marital rape or may still be going through it and I want you to know you are not alone. For years I felt as if I was asleep as I couldn’t face up to what was happening to me, why I was losing weight and why I so depressed. I minimised everything, even to him. I would try and make him feel better afterwards. Most of the time it was as simple as me saying no to sex and him doing it anyway while I was completely disconnected, and it was so often, I would lie there and wait til he was done most of the time, but each thing built up to him pushing the boundaries further, sometimes when we were out in public, always after I went out with my friends, it was part of the deal. I always told myself he’d be in better form if I just went along with it. He was always so stressed and so angry. And I loved him and sometimes I enjoyed sex with him. It made things very confusing in my head. And I was eating barely anything, which he encouraged, he was constantly buying me exercise equipment and sexy outfits. I kept getting sick, I was tired and low all the time. My family and friends were saying I wasn’t myself. There were 3 incidents that I play over and over in my head that I couldn’t minimise (although I tried). And they led to me telling him our marriage was over. That was a year ago. I thought it might help me to write one of them down and maybe someone will identify with me and it might help them. It was at his best friends wedding and as usual, he wanted us to do something exciting sexually. So we went to the men’s toilets. We were kissing and we started to have sex. I was quite drunk. All of a sudden he turned me around and bent me over the toilet, my hands on the window sill. I started to say no. It came out in what sounded like a little girls voice. I don’t know why I remember that so well. I don’t know why I didn’t shout. He raped me anally in the men’s cubicle and I was crying looking at a dirty window sill and I could hear strange men outside commenting. Afterwards I kept asking why did you do that, I didn’t want that, it hurt me, you were too rough, I said no. But he he didn’t want to talk about it. He left me sitting with one of his male friends that I didn’t know to go outside with his best friend and have cigars. He saw I was in pain and bleeding for days after. I stayed with him for years after that. Other things happened after that too. I ended up feeling like his stress ball, a rag doll, good for nothing else. I was with him since I was 18 years old and we have children together. He was all I knew. He was my husband and I loved him. No one knew what was happening. Everyone thought we were a couple in love. It wasn’t until I told him I couldn’t share a bed with him anymore and I was starting ti have panic attacks that we went to a marriage counsellor and it all came out. I woke up. It was her face. Her reaction. I felt so stupid and embarrassed. And he tried to explain it away to her shouting at her that he was a man. I was sitting there thinking how did I let this happen to me? I always saw myself as quite a strong, intelligent, bubbly person. I’m in my 40s, I should know better. I was looking at the counsellors face and it somehow didn’t feel as if it was happening. I realised I was shaking and she was worried about me and he was shouting at her. I felt so embarrassed and helpless. And stupid in front of another grown woman. I was thinking what if this was someone I loved telling me this happened to them? But still in my head I kept thinking its not really rape because he was my husband, and I loved him and so many times I wanted to have sex with him so how could it be rape. But why did he want to hurt me? I kept thinking this couldn’t be happening to me. Anyway thanks for reading. I hope it helps someone. I feel it helped me to write it down.

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

Not 100% sure if COCSA, still healing and navigating. I am currently 21, turning 22 later this year. I’ve spent years trying to fully grasp this ever since I was 7 and have only spoken about this with a counsellor from my high school and two other people. I’ve constantly pondered whether it was a case of playing doctor gone wrong or COCSA along with these events having a big bearing on me, I’m in a far better headspace mentally but I still ponder this and still feel I haven’t fully healed so I’m just simply going to share my story from here. So me and my older brother(3 years older) had a pretty standard dynamic of him being “cool” and good at everything per se whilst I was essentially second fiddle and felt like I was in his shadow, very up and down relationship due to me being neurodivergent which neither of us really understood at the time. It started when I was around 6 in which he’d(Age 9-10) randomly start masturbating or rubbing his penis in front of me, I didn’t think much of it at the time as obviously I was 6 and didn’t understand what was going on, we did share showers a few times but that was primarily innocent, eventually in 2009(8 years old now, him 11) as we were moving into a new house, as we were preparing everything, and on the bottom bunk of a newly put together bunk bed, he “invited” me to masturbate him(The words masturbate, etc weren’t used, I don’t remember the exact terminology used but it was about making it “grow bigger”), I remember being complacent which I don’t know why I was, perhaps it was because it was someone I genuinely loved and looked up to, I remember even saying that we’d pretend to talk about something else if we heard anyone come towards the room, I don’t know how long it lasted but I ended up stroking him after the aforementioned stuff of him talking about “making it grow”, etc. I remember at the time enjoying it and it didn’t feel weird, I remember him moaning and telling me not to go too fast, etc, I don’t know how long it was but he didn’t ejaculate from it. After that, nothing really ever happened apart from a few occasions from 2010-2011 in which I’d either see him casually pull out his penis and wiggle it around while lying down and on one occasion rubbing it on my legs when I was 8-9 and he was 11-12. The events in 2009 led to a whole spiel of me discovering and becoming addicted to masturbating myself, I remember feeling increasingly socially awkward as time went by, wondering if this was something normal for siblings, etc. I remember in 2012-2013 masturbating over the handjob from 2009 which in hindsight was a means for me to cope with what had happened and try and have some degree of control over that situation, I would have breakdowns over it and feel disgusted with myself every time I thought about it in retrospect. I had also felt conflicted as I was increasingly breaking down due to my depression developing at this time from various other circumstances as well and an existential crisis essentially, well at least for an 11-12 year old. I remember in my head blaming him for being the reason why I “wasn’t cool”, etc. After primary school and by the time of high school in 2014 I’d come to stuff it in the back of my head, at this time I got into porn and masturbating continued to be a habit from then and many years to come, I remember coming out as asexual and believing I really was at the time from 2014-2016 which part of the reason I’d attribute to all that had happened with me and my brother. I’d have further breakdowns about it in 2015 with my depression escalating and me and my brother arguing much more(I did not bring up anything about all that had happened apart from a “throwaway” remark in which I told him that he “traumatised” me around 2014, our arguments were seperate from this). 2014 was around the time I began to hold bitterness towards him and felt that he was the catalyst for me being who I was, and I hated everything about myself, by 2016 our relationship would begin to improve though. From this point it’d be very on and off until 2019 in which I finally opened up to my high school counsellor(Though in not as much detail as I am sharing here, mostly emphasising the handjob), she said that I had been sexually abused and we’d have sessions in which I’d navigate through it albeit at this time it was very difficult for me to talk about, it was the first time a label was put on it per se and the first time I had a firmer grasp on what had happened, eventually I opened up to my brother about it who had also brought up that he had a bad circle of friends through primary school though never went into any further detail than that and was exposed to a lot of things. So right now, I’m at a point now having done my own extensive research on sexual abuse, CSA, etc, etc where I’m doing far better now but still healing and still navigating everything. So I’m just gonna leave it at that, I know this is extremely long but thanks for listening.

I do not entirely understand if this would be considered cocsa or not. Please help me understand. Around the age of 6 i had been exposed to explicit adult content, and further on it had been a daily thing of watching it as to where it became an obsession. So i was aware of what sexual intimacy and how it happens but nothing more than that. When my cousins, and their step siblings came over the older ones would all hang out away from us, while us younger ones played together. somewhere along time us younger ones came up with a “game” in which basically consisted of rubbing against each other while clothed but basically ended up with me being the only one being humped and them taking turns in the act of sexual intimacy which i think we were all sort of aware of what it was. When my cousins would leave, and it was just me and my younger sister alone i would do what they did to me to her. Even though she did come off as uncomfortable now that i remember, which makes me feel even more guilty to this day. Also the same cousin that participated in that “game” had kissed me directly and expressed that she liked me in a not friends type of way when we were out of view that could’ve almost lead to something else but hadn’t due to being caught the second time by my older sibling when we kissed again. it made me more confused growing up knowing someone of the same gender liked me in that type of way not considering that we were family which really messed with my head and i have became hyper-sexual with a bad obsession with porn to this day. Im sorry if this is too graphic i dont know how else to explain. I don’t think this would be considered cocsa but i’d still appreciate knowing if i’m overthinking it all.

How can I forgive my father, now deceased, for molesting me? I understand how people feel, and it is okay to feel anger towards that person who had stolen your childhood. I never forgave my father, and you also don't have to. I have been happy that my father, the molester, is dead, and now he can't abuse any more children. Look around at the innocent faces of my siblings, nephew, and nieces whose childhood has been saved and rejoice in it. The past we dream of is lost, but we still hold the key to our bright and happy future. A Good Friend sent this quote about how to forgive, "Forgiveness is taking the knife out of your back and not using it to hurt anyone else, no matter how they hurt you." Emotionally, the hurt never goes away; however, through the healing journey, what changes are the pain's control over the survivor's life. Survivors of sexual abuse have many losses to grieve, such as the loss of innocence and the loss of protection from someone they trusted. The pain of the memories, for most survivors, is initially likened to the destruction from a bomb blast. Still, the pain can take a back seat in the overall perspective of, and functioning in, life. Remembering opens the door to the future and the possibility of forgiveness. A significant hurdle for most victims is placing guilt where it belongs, not on the victim’s shoulders. When that milestone is passed, the Holy Spirit can begin to work in their heart regarding the possibility of forgiveness. God wants to heal the deep hurts of your sexual past. Healing is available, but it has to be individually applied to each wounding of the human spirit. The first step in the healing of sexual abuse is gaining the courage to face your pain. This process may be time-consuming and may require the help of others. Because broken trust is always involved at some level, you must deal with that fear which you fear most: recalling the trauma and becoming vulnerable again. Sometimes it's better to forgive; don't do it for the abuser; do it for yourself. Once you forgive the abuser, you'll take a bunch of weight off-of yourself. Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could be any more different and accepting past as it is. - Oprah Winfrey. Forgiveness can be proposed as a tool to help and heal the pain and suffering of victims of many sexual abuse cases. Many states that “Everyone can heal and have a great life,” but along with living that great life, one must also acknowledge what is really happening inside - not push it away. When feelings and memories are acknowledged, they are eventually released, and survivors heal. At that point, if they wish to forgive their perpetrators, fine. If not, that is also fine. But the goal is for the survivor to release the past and focus on their future. And, most importantly, acknowledge how awesome they really are. Please visit my social media page at link

I have recently decided to write a book on surviving abuse I spent four years in a various sexual physical and mental abusive relationship i've already wrote in that memoir on my experience itself and I'm willing to let anyone read it I would like to write a book that should help everybody I would be putting in my own experience and would appreciate if there's anybody here that would like to help me share their experience with me to add to my book to reach those people that don't understand what they're going through yet I promise your name will never be used Just your experience

cocsa I’m barely 18 and I recently realized that i was sexually abused and assaulted well over 20+ times. (this story is just abt the cocsa) It’s hard. Really hard. I don’t necessarily feel dirty. I just feel used and mourn for my younger self. The first time it happened i was 4/5, i had just moved to a new village and befriended the neighbors kid. She was a little over a year older than me. Stronger and more dominant than me. But we were good friends. Untill she told me to play doctor with her. At first i thought it was cool, fun, exciting, but something about it felt wrong. And soon it went wrong. She started to have me undress more and more. Would reach into my underwear. Would put toys like balls and pencils in my underwear, eventually she pushed a plastic playtoy knife into me. I can still remember the pressure of it. It didnt go in far but i was horrified. She would force me to touch her in the same ways too but i cried when she tried to get me to put something in any of her. I think my mom caught us at some point. That part is a bit blurry. I can still see the window of my old room and her parents room from my new house. The second time i was 8 and the guy, a cousin of one of my friends, who was 14, kissed and grabbed me and pushed me under the bed to make out with me. I didn’t know it was wrong. The friend just encourageed us. The third time I was assaulted i was 10/11. This girl from my class got me to touch her boobs, showed me porn and forced me to make out with her closet door as she pushed from behind against me. She made it into this secret game we had and would basically introduce me to new sex things on the internet constantly. I think it made me addicted to porn and a young age (+that i had free internet acces). I was also in an abusive relationship with a guy from my class around the same time. And i can hear people say but “that isn’t serious at that age” and you may or may not be right but it did have a big impact on me. He would shove, slap, hit, kick me in every way possible at school and then kiss me when we were alone, tell me he loved me. At summer church camp he tied me up and had me follow him for hours.

**Excerpt from my book, Book Title** DEAR RELATIVE: YOU WERE THE REASON You lived among us. My intimate, small, family unit was just what you were looking for to infiltrate. To murder hopes and dreams. All you had to do was look up, and all your dreams and aspirations would come true. All you had to do was to stand in any room below and look up towards the heavens and your dream come true was there sleeping. You looked up and right above your head slept an innocent child that you knew could fulfill your lusts and no one would ever say a word; because no one would believe her. You knew the type of mother I had and how I was being treated. You knew that I was devoid of love and you used that to make me do things to and with you and you did things that should have never been done to me or anyone aged seven and eight. You lived among us. You sought out and retrieved the purity and innocence of an impressionable child, a child who loved unconditionally and dreamed of becoming her world’s savior and patron saint. You see when love was as unconditional as mine, my multifaceted dreams of invincibility and the shiny nightingale syndrome were all doable realities, untouched by human peers with their inordinate, insensitive and mindless babble. Until you! You were a part of my family, living and breathing and growing fifteen steps away from my humble abode. Yes, there were fifteen stairs that separated my home from yours. You came to live with your family. You were welcomed into our home and you truly made yourself at home by siphoning this child’s pure spirit, innocence, and child-like, simplistic, and unconditional nature, which you replaced with hurtful, ugly, filthy, vile, demonic, unnatural impurities of epic proportions. You took advantage of my unfortunate lack of parental love and betrayed me. Did you pray that my mom would send me to that dark place so you could have me? Did you? Don’t lie. It’s way past time to own up to what you did so many years ago. It is way past time for the truth to be told. You STOLE my childhood. You STOLE from me what I should have been able to freely give to my husband, the man given to me by God. You KILLED my womb. You are the reason why I lost a child. You are the reason why I was gang raped. You are the reason why a police officer and a teacher were able to sexually abuse me. You were the reason why men thought they could mistreat me because that was all I knew. You groomed me to be a sex slave and an addict to hurt. You were the reason why love came and never stayed. It wasn’t love. I was a servant to those who lied to me and shamed me into submission. And when they tired of me, they threw me away. You were the reason why I couldn’t care for my children. You were the reason why I couldn’t care for myself. You were the reason why I wanted to die and the reason why I tried. *************************** We continue to harm ourselves by remaining silent. Our silence allows for our lives to remain stagnant and stifled. Your silence prohibits you from living your destiny. We who are abused not only suffer, but our families suffer as well. Even if no one knows what has happened, we do not act the same. We are not the same. Abused men and women may have attitude changes. Sometimes our actions are totally out of character. The people closest to us may receive foul words or we may act irrationally without anyone knowing or understanding why. We know something is wrong, but we have no idea what it could be. Hurt people, hurt people. We wonder why we accept mistreatment from others and we pass off the disrespect from them as something we deserve. Some who are abused gravitate towards their abusers, creating toxic bonds that seem unbreakable and loving but can be debilitating and at times deadly. I did. Those on the receiving end of our hurt don’t deserve the disrespect and or mistreatment either, but it won’t stop if we feel our actions are justified. We use our past as a crutch. Admittedly, just because they won’t do what we tell them doesn’t mean they should be hit on or cussed at unmercifully. Here’s the thing: if you have an issue and a problem and until you see it, and understand it, you won’t get help for it. You are such a wonderful person. That is the way God made you. Those things that may have happened to you were hurtful and degrading and were meant to kill your spirit and your soul. But you proved you are stronger than that. You have beaten the odds and although you may not be completely healed, you are on the right road towards your desired outcome in life, Restoration. Remember, you are not alone. There is no one standing in the way of you achieving your goals except yourself. We can be our own worst enemy. We are truly our own worst critic. Sometimes we even second guess ourselves because someone may have told us a lie that we wholeheartedly believed. They may compare your problems to what they may have experienced in their life in an attempt to belittle your own experience. Do not let anyone keep you from your promise. Not even yourself. You may have been through all of this and possibly more and you may feel like there is no hope for you or that you can’t take it anymore. Yet, you are still here! We are here. Perhaps you can relate to everything you just read because you’ve been through it, or you know someone who has shared their secret with you. Encourage them to speak up and tell someone. Search out those resources, together. Pray. God will send help to you. They will be there for you no matter what. You may have to scream and cry and they’ll have a shoulder and an ear for you. You may need prayer and they’ll pray for and with you. You may not know what you need, and they’ll be there to help you figure it out. Remember, help is on the way. Restoration is on the way. Hope, love, and peace are on the way. Talk to a person who won’t criticize you or try to make you feel like you are the blame for what happened to you. It’s not your fault. Do it for yourself. Do it for your children. Do it for the rest of your life. Keeping silent is like having a closed fist- nothing in and nothing out. You’re locked into your feelings and there’s no one there to help you get out or at least help you to resolve some of the issues and emotions that you may be feeling. Seek professional help. Be open to understanding that there’s hope and that you are not alone. I have faith that is unshakable. I have a love that’s unconditional. I believe that a relationship with Jesus will help you get through those things that are trying to keep you from your journey and from being the person you’re destined to be. He’s available to you. I’m learning that He truly is enough! This is NOT how my story ends; it’s only just begun. We will no longer co-sign the silence.

Learning about the different forms and signs of abuse saved me. I never thought I would end up a victim of domestic abuse. My lack of knowledge on what abuse looks like resulted in me falling right into my abusers trap. The five year long relationship began normally, I quickly fell in love with a partner that showered me in compliments and exciting experiences. About 6 months in, the warning signs began to show, and my family expressed concern, but I brushed it off, as I was overall happy with them at the time. Things quickly got worse, and I was isolated from my friends and family. I was subject to frequent criticism and belittling, name calling and being mocked while I cried, fully believing that I was the problem. I was comforted by calm talks from my partner after explosive outbursts, agreeing that things will be better once I learn to do better. Despite my efforts, this never stopped. I was constantly walking on eggshells around them. God forbid I upset them while they were driving, or they would speed and weave through heavy traffic, screaming and slamming their fists on the steering wheel. Then they began throwing things during outbursts. Screaming at me so close to my face I could feel spit landing on it. They angrily grabbed my wrist once, and looking back I see now the progression that was being made toward more physical violence. Resources online and finally reaching out to my family opened my eyes to what was happening. I felt brainwashed, and it took time to fully accept it for what it was. When I left, at one point my abuser stood in front of the door so I couldn’t leave. They yelled and knocked things over. Another form of physical abuse. I am in therapy now, and working through PTSD. I am so grateful for my family and friends, and the support online that gave me the strength and knowledge I needed to get out. I now know that what I went through was not my fault. My abuser was a master manipulator, as most are. Everyone can benefit from being knowledgeable on the many forms of abuse that exist.

I... I... I... Feel stuck trying to make sense after what happened. Why did this have to happen again? Why did he continue on? I never gave him a yes, I never gave him a no. I couldn't say anything at all. I was high and blacked out on the floor. I... Thought I was his friend. I thought he cared for my family. Both of them, I thought they were someone I could trust. I didn't say yes or no as a kid. I didn't say yes or no as an adult. But, I still felt as if it was my fault.

I’d like to share my sexual assault story. When I think of what happened, a rush of emotions come to mind, including anger, embarrassment, insecurity, and resentment. I've been reflecting on what feelings come to the surface, and I mostly feel anger, but deeper down I have a sense of worry that maybe I didn't remember that night right, and what if I was wrong? What if he didnt do anything and my mind is making up stories? But, I can see the night it happened vividly in my head, clear enough that I'm reliving it. I really liked him, and I'm not entirely sure why, because he wasn't my type at all. We had been “talking” for maybe two weeks, right around my birthday. He was the first boy that I really ever kissed (that was non consensual too now that I think about it), and I had been really unsure about my sexuality, and if I even liked boys at all. I think that may have been the reason I gave him the time of day. I knew that he wasn’t a good guy, but I was attracted to him, so at least he was helping me figure myself out. But, he took advantage of that. I knew he only cared about my body. We would talk for hours every night, and while I was looking for someone to connect with, all he would ever talk about was having sex with me. I made it clear to him that I didn't want that, because I wanted to wait until I was ready and preferably in a relationship. He acknowledged that, but the things he would say about me proved he didn't listen. It was always “I wanna f*ck you” or “I want your body”. He sexualized every part of me, and it was like that was the only thing he could think about. I just wanted to talk to him, but I would always find myself speechless when he said these things. How was I even supposed to respond to those sexualizaing comments? “Thank you?” And it wasnt just me he said these things to, he would talk about me with our friends when I wasn't around. Making sexual comments and talking about my body and how badly he wanted me. This isn't even the worst of it. While I was catching feelings for this obviously shitty man, he was talking to one of my other friends. He told people that he was really going for her, but just messing around with me on the side. And now they're dating. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, because I didn't want to hurt the other girl he was talking to. That didn't end up mattering to me after a while. I guess I should start from the first memorable incident. It was one of my closest friends' birthdays, which is the day after mine. I remember him saying he wanted to give me some “birthday d*ck”, even though he blew me off on my birthday to hang out with the other girl. There were a couple people over at her house, including the boy and his friend. We were all sitting on her floor, and I decided to sit next to the boy, and eventually we were cuddling on her floor. Ew. I noticed immediately that he was touchy. He started feeling up and down my body, grabbing my butt, and trying to wedge his hands in between my closed legs. All of this was out in the open with our friends in the room. The birthday girl and two other people left, and it was just me, the boy, and his friend in the room. The boy said he had to talk to his friend about something and asked me to cover my ears, so I buried my head in his shoulder and covered them. I heard him say I could come back up, and when I looked back up at him he kissed me. We started kissing more, and the boy didn't seem to be bothered at all by the fact that his friend was still in the room. I'm pretty sure we kissed again while he was there, and then he left. He was the first boy I ever really kissed, and I guess I thought it was normal for him to touch me that much. The funny thing is, the friend whos house we were at said he probably would have gone all the way and had sex with me right there on the floor if I wanted to, even though the house was FULL and we were on my best friends floor, where anyone could walk in. That was just one of the many red flags I missed. Things went on that way for a few days, and whenever we hung out he would touch me. I remember one day I knocked on my friend's door, and while we were waiting to be let in he grabbed my butt. He would do that alot. He knew I didn't want to sleep with him, yet every time I was around he got closer and closer to me, touched me more and more. He would stick his hands down my pants and up my shirt, even if there were other people nearby. He wasn't good for me. I knew he was bad. I made bad decisions when it came to him, and I knew I needed to stop. So, now I'll get into the night it happened. It was a night in march, this boy didn't have a car, so I remember I snuck out of my house to pick him up from work. We were hanging out in the front of my car, and he asked if I wanted to get in the back. I knew I had to be home soon, but I said yes. We climbed back there and started kissing. His hands were everywhere. He lifted my shirt up and started taking my boobs out of my bra, and stuck his hand in my underwear. I said I was on my period so he didn't go any further. But, that didn't stop him from getting what he wanted. While we were kissing, he took out his dick from inside his pants and placed my hand on it. I thought he was grabbing my hand to be romantic, but next thing I knew I was touching a dick for the first time in my life. He guided my hand up and down and then let go. I'm not too sure on the details now, months later, but I think I moved my hand away and he moved it back. He kept guiding me like that. He put my hand up his shirt and I had to feel his nasty chest hair. After this happened, I looked at the clock and said I had to go. We got re-assembled and I drove him home. Except this time I could tell something was off. He was very quiet on the way home, and when he got out of the car he kissed me through my driver's side window before going back inside. When I was leaving, I immediately called one of my best friends and told her what happened. Honestly at that point I didn't think it was assault, and I told her I wondered if I would have actually slept with him if we had more time that night. She didn't seem concerned about what I told her either. But she was also the one who's friends with the boy. When I got home, he sent me a message that said “I don't think we should talk anymore until I figure things out with myself. I was crushed. I felt so stupid and embarassed and violated and ashamed. I knew that he had been juggling me and this other girl for some time now, and honestly I thought he was going to choose me. The constant competition really took A toll on my mental health and confidence. Of course he would choose the skinnier, prettier girl who would actually put out. I really don't understand what got into me. I knew he was terrible. I knew he didn't care about me. So why did I stay? Why did I like him in the first place? Why why did I let him hurt me??? I still don't understand that. Now, the period after he ended things was just as embarrassing. I kept waiting for him to come back to me, when he “figured things out”. I asked my friends if there was a chance he would come back to me, and even though nobody thought it, I kept hoping. The funny thing is, after he was done with me he started preying on one of my other friends, who was not interested in him at all. He said the same things about her. “I wanna f*ck her” and “shes so hot”. He didn't “like” girls, he went after them. Finally, I started to realize I didn't need him. I stopped waiting for his snaps, and started ignoring him. I started to reflect on how he treated me, and it was clear he was using me as a side piece and he only wanted my body. He didn't care about me. As time went on, he kept telling people I was obsessed with him, and that made me angry. At this point in my life I was smoking a lot of weed, mostly just to get by because every day felt hard. This boy started treating me like a drug addict and said he was concerned by how much I smoked and the decisions I was making. But this girl he wanted smoked just as much as me, and we mostly smoked together. But he only went after me for it. I started realizing he was messed up, and had no values or morals in his life. I started to think, and I realized what he did to me was not okay. I told my trusted friends about it and they agreed. However, one of my closest friends is still close with him. Just writing about this is making me feel sick. My stomach hurts, and I have a sense of unease all over my body. The next few weeks, I started to forget about him. Until one day he texted me. He rambled on about how I smoked too much weed and that eventually I'm going to get caught. He told me that he was concerned for me because I was important to one of my friends, which means it's important to him. Not even that he cared for himself, just that he cared because someone else did. I was furious. He had no right to tell me i'm being irresponsible when the only thing he talked about when I met him was how many drugs he did on a daily basis. And about this “other friend”, I remember a specific instance where I picked her and another friend up from their houses, and we went to our spot to smoke. She told the boy we were there, and he pulled up. MY two friends got out of my car, got into his, and left. They all left me alone to go hangout with someone else (this other person they were going to hangout with also has two separate rape allegations, one of the victims attends my school). Again, I was furious. Especially after I told this friend that he assaulted me, she left me alone without even a second thought. This wasn't the first time this happened either, she blew our entire friend group off multiple times to hangout with the boy who assaulted me. Going forward, I started forgetting more and more about him. I talked to other people, and eventually found my current boyfriend. One day, me and my boyfriend had planned to meet my friends at our spot- a waterfall and park in town. The “other friend” asked me if it was okay if the boy and his friend were going there too, and I hesitantly said yes. Obviously I was a little uncomfortable with my boyfriend and assaulter being in the same place. But he was eager to meet the man, because I had already told him about it. Plus, my boyfriend was drunk. When we got there he couldn't even walk. I had to walk up to my friend who was in the car with the boy and ask them for a lighter, in which they all ignored me. We waited in the parking lot for a while for the boy and his friends to walk down to the falls, but they never did. Then, My friend comes over to me and says the boy is uncomfortable because my boyfriend was drunk and he didnt wanna see him fall off the rocks or hurt on the path down to our spot. I was furious that she came up to ME and told me that my ASSAULTER was uncomfortable?! Absolutely not. She said it right in front of my boyfriend too, and tried to pull me aside like he wasn’t there. I looked right at her and said “oh? HE’S uncomfortable???” and walked away. My other friend and my boyfriend walked down to the falls with me. We noticed no one else out of our large group followed, and the IRONY is that they went to drive to a friend's house to GET ALCOHOL! They left and never came back. I was so mad, and for good reason! The thing about me is that I HATE being mad at people, and even though I had a full right to be upset, I still felt bad. But neither my friend nor the boy were “uncomfortable” with my boyfriend being drunk. They had left us many times before to drink and drive, which is especially dangerous. He was probably uncomfortable that I even had a boyfriend, because I found someone better than him. The rest of the afternoon was awkward, because all of my friends left except for one. So she had to third wheel me and my boyfriend. We ended up going out and having fun, but it makes me so angry that that happened. When I was at prom, I kept seeing my friend go over and talk to him and his girlfriend. I tried to stay away whenever possible, but I went over and tapped her on the shoulder a few times when she was over there. I even talked to his girlfriend once or twice, but didnt say anything to him. I hate being around him, I hate him, I hate him so much. Looking back at all of this, I'm ashamed that I ever talked to this boy. But, he also took advantage of me. Even though sometimes I have doubts, I have a right to be angry at him. And even though I never thought it would be me, I'm a part of the 1 and 6 women now.

How 1 manager Ruined Me In date I started a job working as a forklift operator with Company in their export department. Little did I know, that the manager I was about to meet would change everything I ever thought about the working world. For the first couple of months everything was great, I’d show up to work every morning, freight would come in and go out, the employees were becoming friends, and my manager Manager Name was really easy to get along with. His philosophy of, I don’t care what you do as long as the work gets done, made everyday pretty simple. After about 6 months of being employed, everything changed. On or about Date I was hired full time by Company, and was no longer a temporary employee. I had been with the company now for around 6 months and was pretty comfortable with all my coworkers. But my direct supervisor was getting too comfortable, about this time is when he started to reveal his true self. Each morning he would come in and explain in detail the porn he had watched before work. He would attempt to show us on his phone, though most of us were just put off and walked away in the male dominated field of shipping, this isn’t a problem for most, but it bothered me I would go about my day and not allow it to affect my work. Jump forward about a year or so, and we hired a new Forklift operator named Operator Name. She fit right in with the group, and after about a month my supervisor, Manager Name, became very comfortable with her and began making comments on her breast’s and butt on a daily basis most of the time it was not to her, but to me as he had began to trust me because I had been with the company for so long. When thus behavior began I warned him multiple times in a friendly manner that he could not use that kind of language with other employees as it is a clear violation of Company sexual harassment policies, to which he would laugh and brush off. This behavior continued for over 2 years, and because it bothered me I continually reported it to Company in house compliance reporting system as well as their hotline. Yet when the began to “investigate” these instances, all evidence of such actions would magically disappear. Manager Name would get angry he was reported, change his behavior for a few days, then right back to it. It became so bad that at 1 point he had harassment claims against him from 3 different people, yet Company still found no evidence of wrongdoing. I contemplated moving up the chain of command to our regional director, Director Name but during a conversation between him and Manager Name I heard them both making sexual references about another female coworker and I knew my voice would not be heard. Fast forward to the spring of 2023, and this behavior has continued and intensified to the point that I could no longer stand by. I was tired of this gentleman belittling women and men, and parading his sexual exploits and the workplace. So I made a formal report about the harassment, but this time it wasn’t anonymous. I put that I made the report so that I could tell my story. I felt relieved, I was finally going to let them know what I’ve had to deal with for so long and hopefully be able to come into a workplace without being harassed every day. Boy was I wrong. In Date, about 3 months after my report, I was called into our front office to have a meeting with our regional director. But when I walk in, sitting right there is my supervisor, the one who harasses everyone. And in this meeting I’m told that instead of moving the supervisor, or reprimanding him, that I would be forcibly placed into another, much less desirable department, so that him and I would not interact.i did not really have a say in the matter because they stuck me in the same room, cornered me really, with the man who has been harassing me for years. So I move to this new position, but because of a birth defect I was born with, I inform them that this new position is dangerous to me and I can not perform it safely. I let them know I wanted my previous position back. Instead of offering this position back, they decided to retaliate and just release me as an employee. After 4 years of trying to improve the company and myself, of dealing with sexual harassment on a daily basis, they would rather not deal with the harassment claim. I couldn’t believe my ears. But I wanted to share my story so that everyone may know what happened, and know that no, you are not safe in their workplace. If you report it, they release you

After 20 years or more, I believed for so long that if i kept to myself my experience and trauma that with time I'll forget but i was wrong and the only thing i have accomplished keeping this a secret is hurt myself even more. I felt for so long that i was alone that maybe it was best for me to take this pain to the grave and never give it the attention that it deserves but again im only hurting myself if I keep it to myself.

The latch clicked quietly as the husband slunk out the front door after pulling it closed behind him. Soon he'd be in the bed of another woman across town. Only anticipating the rapturous evening awaiting him a few sultry miles away, he never once pondered who the wife he was leaving behind the closed door would be having in her bed. Nor did his selfish burning need coax him in the direction of caring. With one hand she snuffed out the glow of the Benson & Hedges in the ashtray and let it fall amongst the remnants of expired fags. With her other hand she pulled me onto her young, firm, milky white body. Like a baker kneading dough she pushed my face into a voluptuous breast whose excited nipple immediately disappeared between my trembling lips. As this was my first time, with many more sinful nights to come, I relied on her every command to guide me as she moaned "Now lick it" while exhaling an intoxicated breath. Swirling my tongue around my new found endeavor was not what I had ever imagined I'd be doing, especially with such a young beautiful wife...of another man. Like a football goalie terminating an attempted goal she cupped my head with a steely grip, and her slender fingers became entangled in my now sweaty hair as my aroused vixen slid my face down past her belly button onto a patch of hair that was as soft as cotton candy, It was a dark place under the covers, but enough light bled through the cotton veil enabling me to see my way to where she murmured more directions. "Put your tongue in it" Still not knowing what I was doing I followed her every command. As I licked where she said, I flinched as her nails dug into my scalp, and like an old hand at it I instinctively darted my tongue between the folds while massaging and prodding with my exploring fingers. I could tell she approved with each trembling moan. Soon there would more undercover escapades, but it seemed she had tired of just me, and I wasn't enough for her vile hunger. Now laying beside me was my younger brother. We did everything together, and here we were at it again. He was two years my junior, and so much more inexperienced than me, so he did like his older bro, following my lead just like I had followed hers. With each click of the front door as he left to engorge in his own delights, our threesome nights grew longer, consequently making my days harder to struggle through. Often, I'd fall asleep on my desk, twitching and knocking my box of Crayons onto the school floor. My first-grade teacher would wipe the drool from my mouth and