My friends and I were hanging out in a dorm room drinking and playing cards. He heard noise and walked in without knocking. It was the first week of college, we were all trying to get to know people, and
So, I posted on here once before; back then, my post was titled “Three Days They Probably Won’t Remember, And That I Wish I Could Forget.” Now, I have a fourth story to add. To recap what the last three
When I was in college in the late 1970s, for a year I shared a house with 3 other girls off-campus. There was a houseful of boys next door. One night I came home about 10pm to a roaring party
I was 22 at the time, I went out to a party with a couple friends of mine. After a couple rounds of drinks I realized I was a little too drunk to drive home and the host of party,
I was gang raped by six University of Kansas football players in November 1998. When I was leaving my friend’s apartment on the sixth floor, I exited the elevator, and there was D, from Austin, TX. D was someone I
Thank you for this invitation to share my story. I have been so ripped apart by the Kavanaugh “inquiry” and so grateful for Christine Blasey Ford’s bravery to bear the virulent assaults she predicted in sharing her story of his
I met him in college. I always liked to try to be a friend for everyone, especially to people who may not have a lot of friends because I believe everyone needs someone. This was the case with him. He
“Perfect hindsight” is the best discription I can offer at 65 yo about past sexual abuse, assault & mental oppression suffered at the whim of men who apparently target girls, women that carry a lifelong supressed psycological humiliation even if
I was out with my friend, we went to a University corridor party. I didn’t know anyone there and the next day I had to work, we didn’t want to drink much, only three beers we said. I don’t know
It was February 4th, 2007, Superbowl Sunday. I was working at Papa Murphy’s, a job that I had only had a month. We were so slammed that my boss asked me to work two hours of overtime. I called up
This is my first step into accepting I was raped. I’ve waited 3 years to say that and I feel like now is my time to share. I am a male and I was raped by a female. Many people
My world was full of life and curiosity during my freshman year of high school. I was social, outgoing, and ready to achieve my biggest dreams. During the first few months of school, I made a whole new group of
October 24th, 2015 sits heavy in my soul and forever will. It was the first night I had more than one drink in college. It was the first night I went to a house party. It was the night I
I remember why we hit it off. He was wearing a Redskins hat. My mom loves the redskins. Somewhere in my subconscious I must have made him the kind of guy I might some day bring home to meet my
“I was 19, just walking home from a friends, it was only 11 o’clock at night. It happened so suddenly, I didn’t fight, I just froze. For a long time, I did not know if it was ‘really’ rape, I
Coming to terms with being transgender/nonbinary, taking both high school and college classes, and struggling with mental illness is hard enough as it is, but only gets harder when three different people on three different days cause what little self
The night was March 12th, 2017. I was 18 years old and in the home stretch of my high school career. I was studying a couple classes at the University of M. I had become close to the Teaching Assistant
I was raped by a Fraternity man who I was actually very close friends with. I knew the majority of the men in the Frat and had spent every day with them for months. I considered them to be some of my closest friends. I had told this one particular man that I did not ever plan on hooking up with him.
When I was 8 a boy that was 10 touched my butt almost everyday.When I was 9 that same boy in my class shoved me into a corner and shoved his hand into my shirt.Right now I am still scared of anything potentially happening.
She found me in my unclothed, paralyzed state and pulled me to ‘safety’ in a muddled manner. No questions asked we just left the party. The next day I reflected on that night and saw it as a personal failure.
I tried collecting myself to text a friend to let them know where I was and what had happened, but I couldn't focus or coordinate myself. I have no idea how long I was in the washroom for. It couldn't have been for long, but what I can remember about that part of the night is that two people escorted me out the club through the back door away from my friends.
But when I woke up at 6AM him fingering me and trying to cram his dick inside me, I don’t think I consented to that. When I tried to roll over to the other side, to cross my legs, to avoid it as much as possible, I don’t think I consented to that. When he said “oh you don’t like that, huh” and continued, I really don’t think I consented to that.
How the fuck did I get in this situation? I was working really hard not to get this fucked. I worked so hard to not be a whore. Does this act make me a whore? A slut? I am a whore. I am a slut. Why the fuck did I even talk to this guy. Why the fuck did I get myself into this situation. This situation sucks. Not knowing anything sucks. I hate this. I will never know what really happened.
I think I've been raped. I go back in my room and laugh about my sexual escapades with my roommates, not telling them what I really think happened.
I woke up in the morning sore and covered in scrapes. My friends were all discussing the night before and my best friend said she couldn’t find me for like an hour and then she saw me coming out of the forest wearing pants that were way too big on me. She said I couldn’t even speak properly and I had stripes of blood on my cheeks. She immediately took me to take a morning after pill.
Then he was done.He told me I couldn’t tell anybody about this and I said I wouldn’t.I wasn’t very smiley anymore.I tried to fit in as much as I could and act normal.But let me tell you it was hard and it is hard to keep things like that a secret.
He started backing me up against the wall.I new what he was doing.He was not just playing a game.He started tugging at my shirt.I kept shouting no and kept pushing him away.Then he threw me the ground and started undressing me.I kept telling him no and kept smacking him.
You knew what you were doing, you said it yourself that I didn't want you. Never you. But I said nothing. I didn't scream, I didn't run, it wasn't rape. The way you looked at me made me squirm.
Clothes were taken off and kisses were exchanged as we moved to her bed. Once naked, I realized it was too much for me and told her I wanted to stop and sleep. She initially agreed but soon resumed her touching and groping.
I began to panic that I wasn't going to get out. He wasn't going to let me leave. I asked if I could go to the toilet. I had the crazy idea that I would just run. But he came with me. He sat outside the toilet door. I started to cry in the toilet. There was literally no escape. I didn't even have my shoes. He started banging on the door and told me to hurry up. When I opened the door, he walked me back to his bedroom.
In sixth grade, I was walking to my desk, right in front of a teacher, and a guy slapped my ass and called me his bitch. The teacher looked away and pretended she never saw. I asked her why she didn't do anything, and she said "boys will be boys".
Eventually he asked for sex. I said no. He kept trying to convince me. I said no. He gave up and went back to kissing. Later i got ready to go to bed and put on a pair of shorts. He kept touching my ass and fooling around but I kept saying no sex. I felt a sharp pain inside me and i cried out. He had forced himself inside me.
I felt I had no choice but to let him, because I felt if I said no, I wouldn't have been living. He always threatened that he'd tell others if I didn't obey.
But at this point it wasn’t really even my body anymore. It was his. He had control of it, and that’s all it I was to him. A body. A limp lifeless body. It felt as if he had taken my humanity away from me, as if I wasn't even a person anymore, as if I was just a thing.
I just sat in my friend’s room naked crying until he came back. He came in and asked where my clothes were and I explained I didn’t know what happened but that someone was in the room with me and left as soon as I figured out what was going on.
Have you ever walked into a room and had every single person stare at you? Have you ever had to walk past them with your eyes glued to the floor because the stares were so intense? Have you ever had
I keep seeing him around college and around town and every time I see him I get tight in my chest and want to throw up, even though I'm not sure if it was even rape or assault or if it was just two teens under a bridge.
It takes a long time to deal with the feelings of shame and hurt inside your mind. I have spent the last few years working on myself, and I’ve become closer to my 16 year old self. Despite what happened to her, she was positive, curious and creative. I wasn’t always as kind as I should have been. My first instinct was to fight back, and push away others, something I couldn’t do to my abuser. I was not a bad person, I was hurt. I needed help, not hate.
I washed my hands furiously to try to rid myself of this overwhelming feeling of being dirty.
At age fifteen, I didn’t know this was a crime. I didn’t know what sexual assault was. I just knew that what happened was not okay.
I didn't really know that it "counted" as rape. He cuddled up to me after raping me, and that hurts so much when I remember that. How dare he? It hurt me for so long. It is hard to tell people, especially when they tell me to move on, or be stronger.