Anonymous Story: I think it may have been the same guy.

Anonymous Story: I think it may have been the same guy.

I had a similar experience before leaving [that town] and think it may have been the same guy. I was called all sorts of horrible names over the next days, weeks, and beyond because he bragged to the rest of the guys and even his female friends about it.

My Story: He was given ‘permission’ to rape me

My Story: He was given ‘permission’ to rape me

I'm less afraid of talking about these ones than the first one. I have no idea what became of either of those guys, and I don't care. I've lost touch with all of the "friends" we had in common back then, the ones who knew and didn't stop it, the boyfriend who gave permission for his friend to rape me…it's a part of my life I've put past me.

My Story: The summer I became a slut

My Story: The summer I became a slut

The first time I was raped I was 16 years old. The night exists in a series of flash-bulb images that I can neither piece together nor erase from my memory, despite years of trying. I’m still not sure if it was my fault, even though I know it wasn’t.

I don’t think about it very often anymore, but every few years I revisit the spiral of shame, and guilt.