Harper’s Story: The Letter I Sent to my Rapist
I want you to know how helpless, frightened, and violated I felt both of the times you raped me.
I want you to know how helpless, frightened, and violated I felt both of the times you raped me.
Back in June of 2015, I entered a relationship with someone over the internet. This wasn’t my first long-distance relationship, so I was very aware of what I was getting into distance-wise. This person came off as really funny, charming,
You taught me that the world is not a safe place, that people are not to be trusted. You violated my most basic human right to choose who touches me and when.
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
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.
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
I was in the end of an abusive relationship and I’m not sure if I can consider this rape so I’m curious. I feel like I need to know. I don’t even remember what started this particular fight but we
If this becomes long, sorry! So April/May 2016, thanks to a newspaper article I get back in touch with an old friend. He asks me if I’m happy in the relationship I am currently in with my partner, I admit
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
The most important thing I have learned is that sex doesn’t need to be scary or forced or painful or hurtful or upsetting, and those are the only words I could have used to describe it when I was with A. I want other women to know that someone being your boyfriend does not give them a free pass to do whatever they want. It might seem like an obvious thing to lots of people, but I think when you’re in the middle of something like that, it feels very complicated.
Then, while I was dancing with my back turned toward the male student, he reached around me without warning and put his hand down the front of my pants and inside my underwear. I immediately pushed his arm away to get his hand out of my pants and continued dancing as if nothing was wrong. I was so embarrassed but felt utterly dirty and helpless.
If I was placed in a room with him, I wouldn't be scared. I can deal with him, I can put up with him. The thing that would scare me, would be myself. I don't think that I could sit there, while he is blissfully unaware of the immense pain he has released inside me, like a drug, however with the opposite effect; a drug that hasn't left my body since that night.
For a whole year thereafter, I beat myself up over my stupidity for allowing our relationship to escalate that night in New York. The depression and anxiety from that experience followed me around like a dark shadow. Eventually, I began to realize that I had done nothing wrong. I didn't mislead him; he didn't care about what I was saying or doing. I didn't allow it; I felt threatened having a man nearly twice my body weight on top of me. Most importantly, I never consented.
i only really tried to stop him for a solid 3 minutes and then just laid there and waited for him to be done so i can leave.
Editor’s note: All names have been removed in order to not identify the attacker. Unfortunately my story sounds a lot like like a million others. It happened four years ago when I was eighteen. It was a Saturday night during
At that moment in time I didn't even care about what had just happened to me because I was just so focused on trying to help my friend, trying all I could to wake her up but I couldn't move. It was like I was in a room full of people and I was screaming but no one could hear me.
And I barely slept that night I couldn't stop replaying what happen I did the whole way on the trip never said anything to my boyfriend. I wanted to have a good weekend with him. Later that night the guy called me and asked if I was ok and apologized for being so forceful. So I didn't want to believe he raped me I just said ok
I know now that I am no longer alone. Yes, this is still very much an uphill battle, but I don’t want to hide anymore. I shouldn't be ashamed of what happened to me because it wasn't my fault. There is this idea about a grey area when it comes to consent and alcohol. There is no grey area, if someone is unconscious, or not in there right state of mind this is NOT consent. Unless someone gives you full consent to proceed, you don’t.
I have been manipulated, lied too and I was lonely. I was expressing my feelings all over social media, hoping they would realise what they have done. Instead he made himself the victum in the situation…and this was only the
I dont like the label 'survivor of domestic abuse'. I dont think that just because i didnt die that i survived at all. Parts of me that once were great are now gone. The person that i was no longer exists. The person i could of been will never exist. They say that you wouldnt be who you are today without the things that happen to you, good or bad. The saddest part of that is that i agree, i just know im not the person i was supposed to be anymore.
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.
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
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
It’s been a rough year to say the least. I’ve been experiencing some major life changes, and although I’ve rekindled and began many great, fulfilling friendships and prayed as hard as I could to the Heavenly Father to alleviate this
My name is Joanne. For five years I have been victim of domestic violence. He tried many times to choke me. He said hurtful things like after him noone would ever want to be with me. But for five years
I’ve seen all the controversy towards rape & just wanted to share my story. Mine wasn’t horrific, but it made me think. Heading for a night out, and I had been ‘pre-drinking’ with friends but wasn’t too drunk, just a
the kid who at the time would be my best friend, later my boyfriend, and soon after my abuser. Freshman year, After a breakup with his first girlfriend I found myself talking to him alot more than i had in
We talk in English class about the concept of “Perception vs. Reality” and how literature demonstrates this universal truth. I wonder if anybody knows anyone at all as I think back to the word “Ethical” printed in the yearbook
I was 14, going into Sophomore year. He was 17 and a senior with a cool car, a perfect transcript, and a sports and voice state title. He was smooth talking and charming and sweet and cute and polite and
I thought- he reduced me to thinking- that I was nothing more than a used person, and no one will want me again. I was willing to do anything to get back together, because I knew that I will be alone for the rest of my life. I felt like a broken piece of trash no one will even look at.
My mind went crazy with ideas on how to escape …he came at me …i had no where to go …he pushed me into the floor …i screamed for [C] so much that i didn't recognize my own voice
My story. 14 months later.
I think every rape victim at some point tells themselves "maybe I asked for this", "maybe I did deserve this", "I could've fought harder", "did I lead him on?"
Well, I do at least…
I guess I'm still confused on if it was rape or not. I don't want to say this was rape because there are people out there who raped by others who physically hurt them and forced themselves on them. I don't consider myself a true victim of rape because I'm not a survivor.. there were moments I was scared of what the guy would do but I didn't cry out fear or have to scream for help.
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.
You have to fight to find yourself again, or you get pulled under by the grief, the fear, the guilt and all the rest of it. You have to find some kind of silver lining, however small, and pull yourself back up. As long as you pick yourself back up each time it overwhelms you, you are winning. It's ok to be overwhelmed sometimes, to need help; just keep getting back up!
The only thing colder than the temperature outside was the look in his eyes as he saw through who I was into what I was going to be for him. I knew what he had planned when our path skewed away from the gate to the tables. I tried to tell him I needed to go home and that it was too cold "maybe another time". Without a word I was bent over, facing away from him. With a fist full of my hair in one hand he brought his other down on me as if I had committed a crime worth being punished for.
He was my boyfriend. We had a lot of sex—but usually at his parents’ because mine forbade us to in their house. I’d invited him over and since we weren’t allowed in my bedroom, we decided to watch a movie
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.
The emotions I felt were so great I had no idea how to digest them. I had just been raped but I don’t remember any of it. What the fuck !?!? My sister was about an hour and a bit away on the train, my friends were scattered across London and my mum and dad were living in Spain. For the first time in my adult life I felt well and truly alone.
I keep blaming myself because I think I asked for it.. Asked for it with my clothes.. Asked for it by drinking too much.. Asked for it by going to his room..
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