This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.
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Original story
I believe that one day, the world will wake up to survivors and will allow us to feel heard and respected. Rape will not be tolerated. We will create a culture where survivors can easily report, without fear, and feel supported.
Healing means getting back to some form of yourself that you are comfortable with and having the ability to come forward and speak your truth.
The first time it happened to me, I was in high school. I was alone with two men I knew. They were my best friend’s brother’s friends, a few years older than me. I was drinking. I didn’t have much experience with alcohol at this time, and I trusted these men. After a few drinks, I was laying on the floor. One of the men picked me up off the floor and carried me to a room. He then proceeded to rape me. The second time, I was at a University. I was watching tv and drinking with this man I knew in his dorm room. I was still in high school at this time. I remember waking up in a bed, naked, laying on my side as he was penetrating me. At first, I did not know what was happening, and in a panic, I moved my hand behind me to feel what was happening. I was in shock. I didn’t know what to say or do. The third time, I was at my boyfriend’s house. I was around 18 years old at the time. My boyfriend had been abusive to me, not allowing me to wear skirts or makeup. He would stand in front of the door so I couldn’t get out of his room. He once kicked a swing from underneath me in rage, as I fell onto the ground. He had a history of cheating on me. This particular day, he was on top of me as I screamed “no,” but he held me down and proceeded to rape me. The fourth, fifth, and sixth times, I was with a boyfriend, between 19-25 years old. I would notice crushed up pills in my drinks. He would penetrate me when he thought I was asleep. The seventh time, I was on a work trip for an interview in a city and state I was unfamiliar with. I was 32 years old. I met the perpetrator at a bar. He proceeded to walk me to my hotel room. On the way, I had fallen backwards and hit my head. Two people had to pull me up off the ground. We ended up in the wrong hotel, but eventually arrived at my hotel. He was on top of me while the room was spinning. I woke up to him next to me. I can not yet talk about the eighth time. It’s been over 20 years since the first rape. I’m no longer able to trust or be intimate with men. I do not feel safe around men. I am numb. My outlook on the world has forever changed. A part of me is gone, and I can never get it back. I will never be the same person - the same daughter, sister, niece, aunt, student, coworker, or neighbor. I will never smile or laugh like I used to. I will never have peace like I used to. I can never visit these places without flashbacks or memories. I can’t sleep. I can’t concentrate. I can’t relax. While all of these men remain free, walking the streets.
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