Please don’t be sorry, there’s no need! It’s completely understandable, some of the submissions can be quite graphic but I wouldn’t be comfortable attempting to censor someone’s story.
I still feel affected every so often by what happened to me. I came from quite a dysfunctional familiy. My mum and dad got divorced when I was 5 years old and my sister was 2. My mothers mental health suffered as a result as she had really bad depression. I was neglected but my sister loved by my mother and I experienced a lot of emotional abuse. When I was 9 my mother met someone else and they got married. The sexual abuse started soon after. First it was holding him but it got to the point where it was full intercourse. This continued until I was nearly 16. I felt I lived two seperate lives one at school where I was bullied and one at home where this happened and I suffered from and still do terrable anxiety as a result. I never really felt goos about my self because of being dyslexic as well. My mother seemed totally oblivious to what was happening. At first I didnt know what I was doing and it was painful but as I got older I did and I tried to cause arguements so it didnt happen. My mum would come up stairs sometimes and she would never question why we were together. I decided to tell her once my step father started abusing my sister. It affected her badly again but I put on a brave face. I didnt take my GCSEs but I went on to 6th form to do them and then my A levels and I turned myself into a bright student. I worked long hours to do the work which was a lot harder because of my dsylexia. I only was diagnosed with it in my 20s so no one know I was dyslexic at the time. My step father was given 14 years for what he did but he got out in 8 years. At this point in time I still lived at home and supported my mum because she wasnt well I was at university but I left because my step father was released from prision and lived in the same town and was around. I left my degree course because I couldnt cope with it and got three part time jobs to pay off my student loan. I worked for a while and eventually left the town where I lived and my home and started studying again to be a nurse in mental health. I never had a boy friend and people thought I was gay but I wasnt I just was scared of a relationship. This all changed before I went to university for the second time as I met my first boyfriend. When my step father was released from prision I struggled with my own mental health and tried to take my own life a couple of times but I found having friends around me and eventually leaving home and starting my course helped me over come things. I have worked for years as a nurse and I am now married to boyfriend number 2 and I have a 6 year old daughter. I still struggle sometimes with thoughts about what happened but I feel that I have over come my bad early start in life. At the moment I am training to be a health visitor and recently I have struggled with this because of what has happened and because of my dyslexia but I am determined to pass the course and to carry on suceeding in life by putting things behind me the best I can.
Of course, I’ve taken the e-mail address down as I’ve lost access to it, I’m sorry for any trouble.
I was five years old when it first happened to me. Every night I wore a night gown the guy my parents took in would come up to my bedroom and start touching me. I always tried to trick him by telling him I had to go to the bathroom but he would just follow me, Then we would go downstairs and he would have me do stuff to him. When he was finished he would tell me that If I told anybody, he would ground me and it wouldn’t be the kind of grounded where I go to my room, he would make me drink cough syrup, load up a bowl with cereal and toss it outside before letting me go back to sleep. I had tried once to tell my dad what was going on while “J” was out running an errand but he always seemed to show up in the middle of my telling and I would change the story. I even tried telling all the neighborhood kids that “J” would play house with me but they didn’t understand. Finally when I was 9 years old, I went to school and told the school counselor. One night I didn’t wear a night gown but I was woken up by the bright blues….turns out this man had done the same thing to his niece. He never got in trouble for what he did to me.
The second time was by my father. I had only met him when I was just 9 years old. I spent the night along with my sister and nothing happened but the second time I spent the night I had tried to back out of it when he hugged me and squeezed my backside forcing my front up against him. I knew it wasn’t good and I tried to tell my mother I had changed my mind but she wouldn’t listen. She came back to NH and left me at his house. I was 9 I believe. I remember pretending to sleep because I didn’t know my way around his area well enough and my mother had always told me horror stories about talking to people even security guards. At one point he looked at me and said, “I am so sorry I am doing this to you but I can’t help it, I am just so horny” I didn’t know what to say I didn’t know what if anything he would do to me and I had no way of escaping so I simply lay there and said, “It’s OK daddy, I won’t tell” When he brought me back to my parents house I couldn’t wait until he left. My step dad and mother had to show him the way back to get on the highway and that is when I told my god mother. She screamed so loud and I heard something drop and that is when I began crying. I remember being so angry when he tried to tell the judge he did it to me because I took off all my clothes and showed him where another man had touched me, then he blamed it on the drugs…He got five years because of his age and his heart condition. I have a life sentence.
The third time didn’t go as far. After the first two times I began to see all men for what they were, sick perverted jerks. (I have sensed changed that thought). I was on my way to the store to get a gallon of milk. I was 13 years old and one of the guys was talking to a friend of the families. I stopped to quickly say hi to him and the other guy piped in that he had a bag of clothes that no longer fit his daughter and sense I was so small they might fit me. I knew this guy too and he had never done anything to me before and was always nice and he had two kids of his own so I went to his place with him. His daughter was on the living room floor watching a floor model television. He did have a bag of clothes but when we got into the bedroom he wrapped his arms around me and told me I was wicked skinny. He brushed his hands along the inside of my pants squeezed my arms and asked me to promise him he wouldn’t tell. I knew right then what was going to happen and that I had to get out of there. I stomped on his foot and ran screaming until I got to a friends apartment. I told her what had happened and she comforted me telling me it wasn’t my fault and told me he had done something similar to her and her friend. She picked up the phone to call 9-1-1 and then her boyfriend made her hang up telling her it was none of his business. 9-1-1 had called her back and she told them what was going on. That guy got away with it because the CPD was under the impression that I had a vendetta against men for what my father had done to me.
I have been sexually assaulted once more after that and I never reported it because I didn’t want the cops to say I had a vendetta against men.
I had always been open an honest about what happened to me because I was raised that honesty is the best policy and my friends didn’t understand why I wouldn’t wear v-neck shirts or shorts, dresses, bathing suits or night gowns and felt I needed to explain myself. I even told my ex husband before we got married never thinking he would use it against me until one day we got into a fight and he shouted out in front of the whole neighborhood, “The first time you got fucked was when you were 9 and it was by your daddy.” That to me was just as bad as getting violated and having no control over it. My step father too the last time I was almost violated made the statement, “What, do you have a sign on your back that says I’ve been molested, molest me some more.” Sometimes statements can hurt just as much as being violated. It is something I have struggled with my entire life and still 20 years later I am dealing with those demons that seem to never go away. My husband now knows about it. He is very supportive and tells me all the time that he doesn’t want me to do anything just because I think it’s my job as my first husband expected and I don’t but I still feel like because I cannot get intimate all the time that I am failing him as a wife. My husband has surprised me in so many ways and been so compassionate and understanding. I always expect to see his bags packed because he is tired of me not attending his need but so far he hasn’t. He spends more time reminding me that he fell in love with me because of my personality and not for what is in my pants…yes, I am still a victim only because I haven’t found a way to let go but I am progressing. I wore shorts in front of my family for the first time two years ago. I wear dresses now and I can sometimes wear a spaghetti strap t-shirt but it doesn’t happen easily and I have a great deal of anxiety over it…My Ultimate goal is to be able to wear a bathing suit. I haven’t gone for a swim in a public place in quite some time.
I was in so much pain, at the time I was only 16 and a virgin. I was bleeding, naked and humiliated. After they were done using me as much as they could, they beat me and left me in the street. I just laid there in shock until a woman driving by saw me and called an ambulance. I was taken to hospital with a broken arm, three ribs, badly bruised and had to get stitches in my head, lip and stitches down there from the brutal rape.
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I haven’t actually wanted it in years.
Every time I meet someone and try to make friends they ask me. I never say yes, but I never say no either.
I just accept that it’s who people want me to be and who I have to be if I want people to like me.
"It’s so different with gay guys. You’re so sexually liberated." "Of course you get lots of sex; you punish yourself in the gym every day; you’re built." "Look at that smile. Anyone would think you were an innocent boy."
I hate being a whore. I just want someone to like me. I don’t want to be alone.
I was sexually assulted two times in less than a month.
The first time I was a freshman in college, I had my new roommate who I met a guy friend through that was from her home town. The first three weeks we became really good friends, or so I thought. My roommate tried to warn me about him telling me he wasn’t a nice person, but at the time I was trusting toward everyone and didn’t want to hear it. On Columbus Day weekend, I returned early to school so we could hang out and watch the football game together that night. We went to dinner in the common hall and then went back to his room to drink. I was not very exposed to the party scene at that point so I didn’t really know my own limits. Seven shots later I was very intoxicated and he pulled out some weed called Pineapple Express. This was the third time I had somed and by the time we were done all I rmember is sitting on his bed barely able to move. After that all I remember is coming into a moment of conciousness and seeing him on top of me and me not being able to control my body and just being slow pushed off the bed by his thrusts. A little while later I remember him tellign me to get up and go into the bathroom to clean myself up. I stumbled into the shared dorm bathroom and pulled a condon from inside of me. When I went back I was so horrified I grabbed my stuff and stumbled back to my dorm across capus, I barely remember how I got there, and cried for the next two days. For two years after that he never once spoke to me, but spread rumors all over campus that I was a “horrible fuck” and I had people taunt me and vandalize my door. The first person i told was my roommate the day we came back to my door being vandilized and I could barely tell her the story ebcause I was so ashamed.
Not even a month later I went to Boston to spend Halloween with my best guy and girl friend from school. We drank and went to a MIT frat house to party. While I was dancing on the dance floor, someone came up behind me and stuck his hand up my skirt and into me. I didn’t know what to think but by the time I had turned around, he was turned and lost in a crowd of people. Come to find out later that three of my other friends had the same thing happen to them that night.
Ever since then I have felt like I have had to overcompensate in the bedroom. Even after three years of dating the same guy who is the love of my life, those incidents still hang over my head, and it has been a struggle to realize that I am good enough sexually. It has taken a lot of strengh to fight to overcome this, and no woman should have to be made to feel she is an object for sex alone and that her worth lies soley in those acts.