Danielle Tansino’s Story: Jurors don’t like girls that drink

On the night of April 28, 2011, Red My Lips founder, Danielle Tansino (then 29), was out with friends. She was later isolated and raped by a childhood friend of her then housemate. After filing a police report, and following a traumatic experience with the court system, she was told by a female district attorney that they would not prosecute because, "Jurors don't like girls that drink."

P.W.’s Story: I should have known he was a predator

P.W.’s Story: I should have known he was a predator

The little voice in the back of my head nagged at me. You don’t know this guy, your friends don’t know where you are, and this is a bad idea. Before I had a chance to change my mind the door opened and I was engulfed by his good looks and charming smile. I think he sensed my inexperience as I stood there awkwardly in the doorway.

Shaindel Beers’s Story: Hundreds of Dollars

Dear Younger Sister,
This happened in 2004 when I was twenty-seven, which is probably older than you are now, but that’s part of why this is so important for me to tell you—because a lot of times people act like this only happens in high school or college. Or you feel especially dumb about what happened if you were older than high school or college age.

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.