Jill E Waz’s Story: Didn’t want him to think I owed him anything

Jill E Waz’s Story: Didn’t want him to think I owed him anything

Wore plain jeans, bulky sweater, hiking boots, drove myself, payed for my own meal because I didn't want him to feel like I owed him anything.

Julia’s Story: Family Abuse

Julia’s Story: Family Abuse

I don’t want to have to tell people and feel their judging eyes stare at me while I talk, and I feel guilty that I wasn’t held at gun point against my will. I feel like I could have stopped it at any time and I didn’t so that makes me just as wrong. I know thats not true I really do and if someone else told me their story and it matched mine word for word I would tell them over and over it wasn't their fault and that should have never happened to you, you have no reason to feel ashamed and I would truly believe it.

Wife’s Story: My Husband, My Rapist

Wife’s Story: My Husband, My Rapist

It happen with my kids in the next room; he grabbed me and pulled me by my arms .My head hitting the floor I was dragged into the closet.He then pulled his pants down put his penis in my mouth

M’s Story: 16 Times

M’s Story: 16 Times

I am sitting here, and a perpetrator is being inaugurated into the presidency, in the United States. I can not function today. I needed to tell my story somewhere because starting last night I kept waking up with these numbers repeating over and over again, my own thoughts and my own story jolting me throughout the night. And today, a day where I can not move. I am frozen.

Kerri’s Story: You Took the Best Part of Me

Kerri’s Story: You Took the Best Part of Me

When I was 14 I used to like going to my cousin’s house on the weekend because of the other kids there. Little did I know I was being watched stared at and completely taken advantage of. I remember that

Anonymous Story: My Brother

Anonymous Story: My Brother

I am a man, this has haunted my thoughts my entire life. When I was young my older brother use to have sex with me by having me rub his penis or he use to have sex with me why

Kelsey’s Story: Fifteen Months

Kelsey’s Story: Fifteen Months

Fifteen months have come and gone, But memories still burn Everyone has told their story, but I’ve yet to have my turn. On websites, strangers cry for help And others tell their story To be a victim is to have

Tara’s Story: Support

Tara’s Story: Support

I am the third generation of childhood sexual abuse in my family. Three generations of girls who were treated like their purpose was to please men who held power over them. I was the first to tell and be believed.

Catherine’s Story: I was only 7

Catherine’s Story: I was only 7

I am 14 now, and i have severve PTSD, i can hardly sleep at night and im disgusted with myself. I'm constantly terrified he'll come back, he knows where I live, and hes a family member. My mother trusts him more than my older brother and would make me go places with him if he came back

Anonymous Story: She’s Sleeping Soundly

Anonymous Story: She’s Sleeping Soundly

If I'm entirely honest, it started on a field trip. We were friends, I suppose. I'll refer to her as "friend" for convenience sake. I only ever had one friend before that, I was a bit of a loner, but I loathed, and still loathe, being alone. So I went everywhere with this friend and then she started telling me things like: "You'd be so sexy if you were a guy" and "If you take off those glasses you'd look stunning".

Chywayita’s Story: The Year was 2004

Chywayita’s Story: The Year was 2004

12years later,i cry. I cry for 12 year old me,she deserved better,she did not deserve what happened to her. I marvel at how strong that 12year old girl was,how beautiful she was,how beautiful she still is & i hope that one day,she finds healing.

Rebecca’s Story: My story of abuse and aftermath

Rebecca’s Story: My story of abuse and aftermath

I have a lot of problems, trust is the biggest one, I am always scared of being hurt again, but I am slowly working my way back to the person I used to be, the one who was stolen and locked away but is slowly reemerging, I will make it.

Wildebeest’s Story: 30 Years

Wildebeest’s Story: 30 Years

I again sat alone in a waiting room– this time waiting for the "advocate" who was assigned to my case. She came in and was angry. She kept asking me questions I didn't want to answer. She asked me how he undressed me and I didn't want to tell her that I took off my own clothes, so I told her that he did it. She said that proved I was lying. She said that I should still be playing with dolls. She complained that she had been sleeping when the hospital called her in . She sent me to get an exam.

Anonymous Story: My freshman nightmare

Anonymous Story: My freshman nightmare

Later, I would think I should have fought him harder. I should have said no repeatedly until he got the message. I should have told him to leave. But in the moment, I just wanted it to be done already.

Michelle is no longer the victim: Stopping the Cycle

Michelle is no longer the victim: Stopping the Cycle

Assault 1. My cousin took me to “see the bunnies” when I was 4. He showed me his penis and instructed me to touch and lick it. I cried no, and have no memory after. The family kept it a

Anonymous Story: I Don’t Understand, Sometimes I wonder if I was put on Earth just to be used

Anonymous Story: I Don’t Understand, Sometimes I wonder if I was put on Earth just to be used

When people talk about rape, they often think rape steals your innocence. For me, rape and sexual abuse atole everything! It stole my entire childhood. It stole my friends and my family. It stole my dreams. It ultimately made me drop out of school. Ive destroyed my body and have scars all over both thighs and from my wrist to my forearm on one arm.

Anonymous Story: Coercion?

Anonymous Story: Coercion?

For a long time this experience has bothered me. I'm ashamed of myself. I saw myself as the most culpable–I got wasted in public and in such a condition left my sober friend, I willingly got in his car when I should have known better, I decided of my own free will that I would rather have sex with him than stay indefinitely at his house, I tried to act like I wanted to be with him during the act, I tried to perform. It still makes me feel incredibly dirty.

Richard Matheson’s Story: Groomed by older man

Richard Matheson’s Story: Groomed by older man

I sat down and he walked over to the television and put on a porn video and asked if I was ok with it and I said yes so he left me there while he went to fix us a drink.as I sat there watching his TV he came in and sat next to me and handed me a glass of gin which I soon gulped down then he started talking about sex and by this time I was real drunk and that's when it all changed as he pinned me down on the sofa and started kissing me

Kristin’s Story: Imagine

Kristin’s Story: Imagine

I recently spoke at a high school graduation and for the first time went public about my experience with Childhood Sexual Abuse & domestic violence. Imagine being 7 years old, walking into your bedroom after taking your nightly bath, and

Elizabeth’s Story: My Worst Nightmare

Elizabeth’s Story: My Worst Nightmare

Nobody really knows my whole, true story. I don’t like to talk about it; however, I think people need to quit assuming they know everything and gossiping, slut shaming me, and making it seem as though I was never a

Anonymous Story: Letter To My Rapist

Anonymous Story: Letter To My Rapist

I don’t even know where to begin…where does one start to tell the details of the night that changed everything. The night that made me question everything I had ever thought about people, about the world, about myself. The night

Amelia’s Story: Trust

Amelia’s Story: Trust

I grew up in a family that talked about sexual abuse. My father was a pastor. My mother worked with children often. I knew all the signs, or so I thought. The only thing they really didn’t mention to me

Anonymous Story: Can’t Forget

Anonymous Story: Can’t Forget

I don’t remember it happening. Shit. Now that I’m thinking hard of enough I do. Shit. Now that I’m thinking hard enough. I can remember his body pressed on mine. Stop. Shame. I don’t remember how many times it happened.

Valerie’s Story

Valerie’s Story

I have been raped twice, over a decade apart. I have struggled with this. I’ve heard it cited often in the media that a person who has been the victim of sexual violence are likely to be raped for a

Kara G’s Story: Taking my Power Back

Kara G’s Story: Taking my Power Back

Here I am at 2 in the morning struggling to find rest. Tears escaping my eyes and making their way down my cheeks. All the while I am thinking I bet he is sleeping soundly like a child. This irritates me to no end. I decide to get up and write this because I cant think of any other way to get this pain and feeling of violation out of my head and entire being.

A 17 year old high school student’s story: September 1997

A 17 year old high school student’s story: September 1997

September 1997 “Man, she’s through!” “I can’t get my d*ck in her for sh*t!” “We doing this jungle style!” “I don’t need my d*ck sucked tonight.” “Hold her leg!” Dialogue of the rapists – I was extremely intoxicated with some

Kate’s Story: I’m Tired of Not Speaking Up

Kate’s Story: I’m Tired of Not Speaking Up

Telling anyone is sometimes the hardest thing imaginable. Let alone going through with the process to seek this person out and doing something about it.

Jean-Paul Bédard’s Story: A Culture of Silence

You’re dirty. You’re disgusting. No one is going to want you now. It’s your fault. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You’re an idiot. Why didn’t you fight back? Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you think. Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone what happened.

Angela’s Story: Here I Am

Angela’s Story: Here I Am

I was closest to my Grandmother. We didn’t talk much, but I never felt the need to always talk with her. I was comfortable with her, and thinking back now I think she was the only person I was truly comfortable with. I trusted her. It was my Grandmother who realized something else was going on. I was pregnant. I may, or may not have fallen down the stairs, but one thing is for sure. I was raped. We didn’t discuss it.

JKL’s Story: Naive and Hormonal

JKL’s Story: Naive and Hormonal

I still find it hard to not think it was my fault, to not think I was leading him on, to not think I was stupid to be there alone and perhaps I was but a normal person would not have date raped me…..they may have taken advantage in a "normal" fashion but I would have been coherent and able to fight it off, call for help, run away…whatever.

Anonymous Story: Scared Little Girl in the Basement

Anonymous Story: Scared Little Girl in the Basement

Turning off the lights and putting on the movie Speed, she retreated to the living room where she completely forgot about us. How the event came about is a mystery to me, but the four boys eventually ran out of things to occupy them and decided to experiment with me. Some older and some younger than me, they pinned me down, removed their and my underwear and simulated a gang rape.

Joy Ward’s Story: Broken Bottles

Joy Ward’s Story: Broken Bottles

This is my story –of a 13-year-old victim who reported to the police in 1956. Ancient history? Perhaps, but it may give some insight into why victims don't report and the surreal experience of doing so. That said, I firmly believe that victims should speak out and identify themselves. It is not their shame! Not publishing names "in order to protect the victim" implies that somehow it is the victim's shame. Rapists are the ones who deserve to be identified and shamed.

Dawn’s Story: Knowing No Childhood

Dawn’s Story: Knowing No Childhood

Life went on as normal, everyone pretended that everything was fine and that nothing had happened. No one but a few close friends that I had finally confided in knew what had happened. But that kind of secret, festers and boils below the surface until one day the cracks start to appear.

A. DuPont’s Story: He was in a boy band

A. DuPont’s Story: He was in a boy band

After a little bit of time has passed, his friends pin you down as they lift up your shirt, lift up your bra. They draw a “smiley” face on your breasts and stomach. Your nipples are circled— the eyes, your bellybutton— the nose. And just above your pubic hair—the smile. You wiggle and scream, but they are bigger and stronger than you, not to mention they outnumber you five to one. You cry and they laugh. You feel both embarrassed and ashamed.