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The first time it happened I just turned 14. Two days after, to be exact. I’ve finally convinced my parents to let me go on an unsupervised trip out of the city with two other girls and a few older boys from school. We got really drunk and high. One of them let me in to the bathroom. We were really good friends at the point and I didn’t think he would have it in him to have done that. I trusted him. He rammed his cock down my throat and told me that no one needed to know. The next morning I kept quiet. I didn’t know what to do. That night we went swimming. Another much older boy was there. He was a senior in college and he told me I was beautiful. He kept giving me drinks. The next thing I knew he was on top of me. I couldn’t move. I tried to scream. He had his hands over my mouth. The two girls walked in on us, but the other boys told them they didn’t need to be there and that I wanted it. When we got back from the trip, the whole school knew about. The girls actually told them. If anything positive came out of this was that I realized what I needed to do. I retreated and kept my head down. I worked hard at school and made friends with a group of girls who weren’t so judging. They told me whatever people are saying didn’t bother them, because they knew who I am and they love me for that.
I thought that would’ve been the last time I would’ve encountered such an experience until 8 years later. My ex fling’s friend was in town and he asked if he could stay at my place for a night. I said it was fine, but that we will have to share my bed. I trusted him as well. He tried really hard. He finally had my panties down. I begged him to stop. I said why are you doing this. You’re Michael’s friend. He told me I know you want it. You don’t deserve Michael anyways. He called Michael the next morning and told him we’ve slept together.
I cried for a very long time.
I don’t think I’ve moved on yet. I haven’t been able to commit to a long-term relationship since. I’ve slept with a lot of boys, because I feel like that’s the only way I can get closed to them. Because I know they want it.
He won’t leave me alone. He haunts my nightmares. I still feel his breath blowing against my neck. It’s been over a year, but I’ll still get text messages sent to me every few weeks. “Hey, you remember me, right?” How can I forget? He stole something from me that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get back. My trust… my sense of security… my mind… I’m tired of shaking while alone with men. I’m tired of wanting to scream so loud that my lungs collapse. I’m tired of feeling this hopeless rush come over my body. I’m tired of being tired.
I’m not quit sure if this experience was my own fault, I feel like it is/was… I’ve been in many situations where a guy has tried to take advantage if me, or even in some cases touched me when I didn’t want them to, always stopping when I’d asked them to… Just as everyone in this world has, I’ve made mistakes I’m not proud of, like sending pictures of myself to men I’ve never met, and one even being a step cousin through marriage…. I can’t bring myself to forgive myself, I used to be really bad at sending pictures, but I’ve stopped, because I’m trying to he a better person…. But back to my cousin, after we had exchanged pictures and things were said, I did my best to act like it never happened, one night, I got this idea that we should go to the movies because I hadn’t been in a while, we went, while I went to sit down he grabbed my behind, while I was eating popcorn he put some down my shirt and reached down in my shirt and then ate it, I thought this us nothing, just ignore it…. When we got to my aunts house, I cleaned my face, changed, and layed down on the bed in the back room, he layed on the floor. When I asked him to turn the tv off because I can’t sleep with it in, he turned it off, but then I felt his presence behind me, to close, I then felt his hand move up my back and over and under my shirt, I was laying on my side, my back towards him, he then began to squeeze my breast and play with it, I was in complete shock and didnt know what to say, he started to love his hand down towards my pants but I told him I didn’t want to do that, and he then placed his mouth in my breast, sucking and biting on it… I layed there disgusted with myself for letting him continue to do what he was doing, when he stopped he told me to till over I knew I had to say something, I asked him if he could please stop, and he did…. I cried quietly once he left me alone, I was afraid to go to sleep thinking he might try something else… This happened a week ago, and it’s been eating away at me, I blame myself for the pictures long before this and im ashamed and sushi step because I think about this all day everyday…. I’m not sure if that would be considered sexual assult, but it’s affecting me deeply, I’m not the happy person I used to be
i was 15 and a small gathering with my friend and some boys and there was one boy in particular i thought was cute. as the night carried on he tried to kiss me and i finally gave in, before i was about to leave he asked me to come upstairs with him and i said okay and we started kissing on this other boys bed,I was shaking from anxiety but blamed it on being cold, he then tried to put his hand down my pants but i just pulled his hand back up. He tried this 6 times and i carried on saying no and pulling his hand up until i used the excuse ‘i haven’t shaved’ but he said he didn’t care so i just let him do it. It hurt but i made noises as i didn’t want to come across in the wrong way and when i thought it had finally finished i tried to get up but he forced my hand down his pants and thats when i panicked and tried to walk away but he kept trying to kiss me and i just walked out the room. when we got downstairs he didn’t talk to me but said he was sorry and we were friends for a short while after that.
I still don’t think this counts but i wish i knew.
There’s some things that have happened to me a long time ago that I can’t get out of my head. Sometimes I feel like I’m making a big deal out of everything, and I shouldn’t call it sexual abuse, but I know what happened wasn’t right. When I was 6 another kid, who was 8, did things to me. First it was kissing. He showed me how to make out and he would put his hands all over me. Soon it escalated to him using his fingers inside me. I had no idea what he was doing. I told him it hurt but he just kept telling me to be quiet and it would feel good. This went on for a year until I finally told my mom but she didn’t do anything. She just told me to never talk about it again.During this time, some neighbor kids locked me in their garage and threatened to kill me if I didn’t take my clothes off. I don’t remember much about that day. I’ve never admitted to anyone I was sexually abused but I thought I would post here because it still effects me 15 years later.
my heart goes out to each person who posted on this site. I have been there too. I was molested by my birth mother’s boyfriends until I was five, when our neighbor walked in while it was happening and called the cops. I was sent to foster care where the same thing happened again! The sorry excuse for a foster dad would summon me by asking, “Want some juice?” I would be asked to go down on him and I would do so because I didn’t know any better. One time after I did, I went and told someone, and he pulled me aside and told me not to tell anyone. So I didn’t. I didn’t know it was wrong, and he took advantage of my innocence and trust! This went on until I was adopted by two wonderful people I call Mom and Dad, and my fairy tale began. The big bad past was over, right? I wasn’t expecting the emotional backlash that struck me when I was 24. All of a sudden, I was unhappy, and that was unnacceptable. I prayed, sought counseling and worked through my feelings. I primarily struggled with the lie that it was my fault. I should have run. I should have told him to stop. I should have said, “No, I don’t want to!” Thing is, I was a little child! It wasn’t my fault! It took me a while to grasp and embrace the fact that it wasn’t my fault but when I did it was so freeing! I am now married to an amazing man who loves me so much and takes such good care of me, and it is a true blessing that I have never once had a problem giving myself to him! However, I do struggle with emotions that well up whenever I recount the details of the abuse. There is a lump in my throat right now as I type. I would like to be rid of these feelings and I know I will be one day.
Thank you! It’s just little ole me right now but I appreciate the feedback.
Absolutely not, to ensure all stories are anonymous (unless otherwise requested) I copy and paste the submission into an individual text post and manually tag it.
I want to share with you this exercise, that illustrates on a sentence-structure level how the way we think, literally the way we use language, conspires to keep our attention off men.
This is about domestic violence in particular but you can plug in other analogues. This comes from the work of feminist linguist Julia Penelope. It starts with a very basic English sentence: “John beat Mary,” that’s a good English sentence. John is the subject, beat is the verb, Mary is the object. Good sentence. Now, we’re going to move on to the second sentence which says the same thing in the passive voice.
"Mary was beaten by John," and now a whole lot has happened in one sentence. We shifted our focus from John to Mary and as you can see, John is very close to the end of the sentence, close to dropping off the map of our physical plain.
In the third sentence, John is dropped and then we have “Mary was beaten,” and now it’s all about Mary. We’re not even thinking about John. It’s totally focused on Mary. Over the past generation, the term we use as synonymous with beaten is battered, so now we have: “Mary was battered.”
And the final sentence in this sequence, flowing from the others, is “Mary is a battered woman.” So now Mary’s very identity - “a battered woman” - is what was done to her by John, but we demonstrated that John has long ago left the conversation.
Those of us who work in domestic and sexual violence feel and know that victim-blaming is pervasive in this realm. Which is to say, blaming the person to whom something was done, not the person who did it. And we say things like: “Why do these women go out with these men?,” “Why is she attracted to these men?,” “Why do they keep going back?,” “What was she wearing to that party?,” “What a stupid thing to do!”, “Why was she drinking with that group of guys in that hotel room?” This is victim-blaming.
There are numerous reasons for it, but one of them is that our whole cognitive structure is set up to blame victims. It’s all unconscious. Our whole cognitive structure is set up to blame women, women’s choices, what they’re doing, thinking and wearing - I’m not going to shout down people who ask questions about women, it’s a legitimate thing to ask. But let’s be clear, asking about Mary isn’t going to get us anywhere in terms of preventing violence. We have to ask a different set of questions.
The questions are not about Mary. The questions are about John. The questions include things: “Why does John beat Mary?”, “Why is domestic violence still a big problem in the United States and all over the world?”, “Why do so many men abuse women physically, emotionally and verbally, and in other ways, the women and girls and men and boys that they claim to love?”, “What’s going on with men?”
Jackson Katz, Ph.D speaking at TedxFiDiWomen
Jackson Katz, Phd, is an anti-sexist activist and expert on violence, media and masculinities. Katz is the creator and co-founder of the Mentors in Violence Prevention (MVP) program, which advocates the ‘bystander approach’ to sexual and domestic violence prevention.