I went through the worst experience of my life and it took many, many things from me. It took my happiness for over a year, I lost my salaried job, I lost my apartment, I wasn't able to attend classes regularly, I didn't want to leave bed… everything reminded me of what happened and I feared running into him or his friends.
I was barely 12 At the moment and to every girls horror I was sexually abused, molestaed and raped by a foreigner (Trekker) near my home. That painful touch his horondous smile and his forceful ways is still crystal clear. I was raped by being lured for a packet of chocolates and notebooks.
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
Every time I was running/or pushing him away, we were facing his anger. It was everyday story. I remember sitting in the corner of my cousin's room, scared, closed eyes, covering my ears while he was screaming my name outside. To calm him down, my grandparents and his wife makes me sit next to him in living room. Where he was touching my thighs, trying to kiss me, rotating my face to look at him. I can't forget his scary face and laugh. No one was stopping him, he was coming to my room every other night.
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.
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
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
I was sodomized by a police officer from Botetourt County Sheriff’s Officer in Virginia. Cowards serve and protect each other, he was never charged, or punished in any way; instead they punish the real victim pressing charges for speaking out
Its just really hard and I can't belive I'm actually writing about it. Every time after it happened I would feel ashamed I hated myself for what I was forced to so and could never look at myself the same way. I lost all my innocence.
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.
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.
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
I was a rape victim for 4 years for two different people, here is my story. When I was 10 years old my mom had a good friend named P., who was like an aunt to my younger sister and
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
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
Please follow the link to view Ana’s video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cyo9eyXTir8 A Message from Ana: If you are being abused or have been abused, please seek help. Never give up hope. I love you and you matter. RAINN.ORG is a good source
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
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
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
I took a shower, wanting to get rid of the evidence of the day. I knew I should call the police, but after going through filing charges as a kid against an adult who molested me, I knew what the process was like and I didn't want to go through it again.
I want to write down this story in order to help me move on. Ever since it happened I keep going back and thinking about what happened and how I could have stopped it from happening. It was the worst
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.
I spent a good hour just standing there, not thinking about a damn thing. I remember checking myself. I felt myself down there, and I felt wrong. I was disgusted in myself. How could I let him do that to me?
So he would say again, “Nobody wants you. You don’t have friends. You don’t need friends, only me.” And it would start over and over again. Being locked all day in a dark room, naked, forced to have sex until my skin was raw, until I was bleeding and hurting, until there was only a fine line between pleasure and pain so that I could tell myself, “It’s not so bad.”
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.
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..
The commonalities I have with the other brave women who have come forward are what made me realize how wrong it all was. Reading the stories was like having my mind read. I sunk deeper with feelings of guilt and disgust. I was part of an intricate web woven by a man who was manipulative and powerful. I fell for every carefully constructed, tried and true line he fed me. He played his game with me as he played it with so many women before me. I was another woman to add to his collection.
I spent eight hours in the hospital getting evidence documented, there was an 18-month "investigation", and no charges were ever laid. I was told that because I willingly went to my attacker’s apartment, it would be too hard to prove beyond a reasonable doubt.
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.