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I was raped when I was 15 years old by two boys from another high school. They roofied me. They not only vaginally raped me but anally, too. They bragged to all their friends that it was consensual.
I was unconscious. I remember waking up naked with my clothes thrown everywhere, feeling weird but not knowing what happened. When I got to school on the following Monday, I was "slut" shamed by everyone at my school. When asked, I denied everything. I continued to be "slut" shamed. I had no friends. I ate lunch by myself every day. I never reported the rape because that would have been admitting that I had sex. There was no sex education in my school to teach us what consent was. I didn’t realize what happened to me until I was 20 and learned about consent. Then I started having flashbacks to that night. My life has never been the same since I was raped. I have serious rage issues and I dream of murdering the men who did this to me. I went on to be abused by other men. I have a hard time trusting anyone. I have hardly ever made a female friend. "Slut" shaming ruins lives and sets rapists free. -- Anonymous When I was 15, I lied to my parents and told them I was going to a party. At said party, I got extremely intoxicated and also had been smoking weed. I eventually blacked out and my best friend, for my safety, locked me in a bedroom in the basement to sleep since I was completely incoherent. A guy, who I was friends with, managed to pick the lock to that bedroom and began to rape me. I was too out of it to remember what was going on and to even try to stop it. I still don't remember a lot from that night, but I do remember the pain I felt from him forcing himself on me. It became extremely rough at one point as well, and I remember my head being slammed into the wall and another time slamming into the nightstand. Because everyone knew that I was sexually active at that point in my life, what came after that night was worse than the rape itself. Many people said that "she must've wanted it" and "a slut can't get raped, she'll always enjoy it." Some of this came from the people that I thought were my friends. I internalized a lot of what happened to me due to sexual bullying throughout high school and began to view myself as others were viewing me, a "slut." It has taken a major toll on my mental health and has led me into an emotionally abusive and manipulative relationship from 17 until I was 19. I also was never able to report anything that happened that night because my parents never knew I was there and I didn't want them to find out; I also just always believed that it was my fault for being too 'promiscuous' and getting too intoxicated. Thankfully, I have found a good relationship with a man that truly respects me for who I am and who I was. I am doing so much better now and have come to terms that, yes I do regret some things that I did, but there is no way to change it, so I choose to just accept it and keep it in the past. My sexuality does not define me as a person, and I will never let it define me again. -- Anonymous in Maryland
After holding on to my virginity for so long I finally felt university is the perfect time to have a serious relationship (involving sex). I met this guy named Ahmed (fictitious name) to whom I entrusted my heart and my virginity. Was it worth it? NO. He turned into a monster with none of the Prince Charming fantasies he promised to be to me.
I dated this Muslim guy named Ashraf (fictitious name) and though he was everything I ever wanted, his family kept calling me "kaffir" and all sorts of racist comments were constantly thrown at me by his parents and his siblings. I was so tormented by his family because of my race and my religion, I finally said enough is enough and rejected his marriage proposal. He kept saying he wanted to leave his family and everything behind. He wanted us to relocate to another country and start a life together, he emphasized how much he doesn't want to shatter my dreams and wanted to pay my tuition fees so I can pursue my Law studies at the country we'll relocate to (any country of my choice). I loved Ashraf, but his definition of what's right was different from mine. To me, anal sex isn't normal culturally and religiously, but he kept insisting we should do that while claiming he was ready to risk it all for me but I couldn't do something so small for him. Well, I moved on to Ahmed who cheated countless times and when I confronted him, he kept "slut" shaming me. It really broke me big time. My head had these questions clicking constantly, "Why did he call me a slut while I'm only sleeping with him?", "Why is he cheating?", "Isn't being a virgin good enough?". My break up with him left me feeling like trash. I forgave him but I never forgave myself. I resorted to over drinking, intense alcoholism and a lot of times after that incident, I cried myself to sleep and tried to kill myself countless times. I kept calling my mom telling her to pray for me but I couldn't say what was eating me inside. I was a walking corpse for a long time after the break up. But I learnt to move on. I look at myself right now and I still can't believe I survived that. Imagine how breaking it was. I moved on to Bruno (fictitious name), and if I was a judge of a Monster Award Ceremony I would have given him the trophy. I endured his drama, his fists, him violently pulling my hair, him pushing me towards walls, his uncontrollable anger and jealousy, his cheating... I could go on and on with a list of more brutal things he did to me. One night he so violently pushed me to his bed that I banged my head and almost died. That very night I wanted to leave and he came to me crying and apologizing for mistakenly thinking I didn't answer his texts while I did, but the network was bad. He was a lawyer and yes he taught me a lot about being a better law student, and taught me personally whatever I didn't understand. His intelligence attracted me but no thanks, there's no room for intelligent monsters in my heart. I'm glad I'm in the hands of an amazing man who despite our misunderstandings, sees the good in me, respects the wounds I've endured and is trying his best every single day not to salt the wounds of my past. He's a brown skinned angel, always well-scented, kind, smart, supportive and most of all understanding. -- Maria Silvanus in Tanzania My estranged husband, who I have been running family business with, has started an intense campaign of slut shaming at our work place telling employees, friends and relatives, even my teenage and adult children we work with about my sexual activities and is specifically telling people that he left me because I "cheated on him and I continue to sleep with other men". He repeatedly threatens me with "telling" my relatives and parents about my sexual activities he assumes or imagines I have, or past intimacy-related issues. He is entirely focused not only on ruining my reputation but also isolating me and demeaning my value professionally. He barges into my office, demands that I give him my complete sexual fidelity, and if I don't respond favorably, he becomes threatening, belligerent and verbally and emotionally abusive. I feel entrapped in the situation as it is a smaller company, no Human Resources, and the corporate lawyer is of no help as my estranged husband is the president of the company and in full control of all company issues. - Irina in Mission Viejo, California
Whenever anyone innocently asks, “When was your first kiss?” I make up a story or deflect and change the subject. I will forever remember my first kiss as being non-consensual, humiliating, and traumatizing. It was an experience that shaped how I would view men and relationships for a long time. I didn't realize what had happened until I graduated high school. I thought it was normal and that it didn't count because I wasn’t raped, no one who watched protested it, he was a friend, and I was wearing a Halloween costume with heels. I was only 14 and it was my first Halloween party at a friend's house. Unknown to me, she invited my recent ex-boyfriend who I had broken up with after he cheated on me because I would not be intimate with him in any way. The night was over and I went into her room to change into comfortable clothes. While changing, he banged on the door commanding it be opened so he can see me while I changed. I locked myself in the closet as my girlfriends held the door closed. He backed off after being unsuccessful and I proceeded to lay on her bed and relax since I was sleeping over. Some people who hadn't left came in, some were older and smoking or drinking. We all just sat around talking and relaxing. My ex came in and decided to sit on the bed next to me. I gave a concerned look at my friend as I moved to the opposite side of the bed and backed myself into the corner against the wall, getting as far away as I could. He moved closer and closer despite me telling him to stay away. He then started touching me and asking for me to kiss him. I denied him verbally and physically pushed him away. He became very aggressive and threw himself on top of me before I could get up and walk out. He pinned me down and started kissing me while ripping my jacket off and touching me all over. I quickly fought him off and got up to leave, but to my surprise some people in the room were just staring and others continued on in their conversations as if nothing happened. I glanced at my friend who was smiling while some even giggled at the incident. I then doubted myself and questioned whether or not this was okay after all. I ended up staying and just moving far away from him. Once again he aggressively pinned me down and did the same thing, successfully tearing my jacket buttons open and grabbing my breasts. I fought harder and ran out angry without my bag or shoes, frantically calling my mom to come pick me up. Of course I did not tell her the truth and just made up a reason for cancelling the sleep over. My friend ran outside after me begging me not to leave. He came after her, I don't remember what he said, only that I instinctively slapped him across the face and then stormed off into the street as I waited for my mom. After getting picked up, that night was never spoken of again with my friend or anyone else. It wasn't rape or a violent assault as I know many girls and women experience. It did however shape my view on what sexuality and intimacy looks like, which led to many relational complications later on in life. It also caused me to mistrust other women as I did not feel they would believe me, stand up for me, or have my back.
On December 26, 2014, I met this guy who I reconnected with from grade 8 and we had feelings for each other back then and gained them back. We kissed for the first time and it was like magic, like any first kiss would be like.. Over a month later, I noticed some changes in his personality. He started getting really controlling... when I wasn't with him he would text me 24/7 and ask where I was. If I didn't answer, he lost control and got really angry. Did I mention he had anger issues? Him: "Where are you? Who are you with? Why are you out? How did you get there? Why aren't you texting me back?" Like, I got that he was protecting me, but OVER protecting in a bad way. Weeks passed and he was at my house for a bit longer than normal... that's when he raped me and he got to the point where he was verbal abusing me. I was scared to continue this relationship, yet I was so attached to him and his charms. Later on in February of this year, I attempted to commit suicide because I felt there was nothing here for me anymore and nothing good was happening. I was broken and hurting inside and out. My parents found me and took me to ER. I spent the weekend there. Blood work, gross food, and sleeping all day... I loved that part. Weeks passed and I finally came out to my family, telling them what I was hiding: I was pregnant and had lost the child. I was afraid to get close to a guy again. I stopped dating and focused on ME. Months passed and it was April. I was doing better. Self-harm free for weeks and I was starting to slightly smile again. I met someone online that changed my life. We shared stories with each other and gained feelings. She was understanding. YES, SHE! We started dating on April 24th. We made each other happy as can be. She made me feel better as a person and that I am no longer attached to men, period... end of story. We are currently still together as of today, September 16, 2015. We are both in different countries, but we have made this long distance relationship work! I am so happy, I can be who I want and my family accepts me for who I am... no more hiding.
Yes I trusted the wrong person and I felt guilt when people found out, but I learned to not care.10/28/2019
It all started in middle school. 6 years ago I'll never forget. I was an antisocial nerd that just enjoyed video games and wrestling. I wasn't even sexually active. I only had one boyfriend but that relationship wasn't even serious. I was 13. I was in 7th grade. My story is probably one of the worst, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. So let's start off, shall we? I was bullied in the beginning of my 7th grade year for something completely unrelated to sex. I was bullied in my class because I was different. My uniform was nicely pressed and not trendy like the girls around me. They teased me because of how wide my pant legs were. They said I looked cheap. I was so depressed, everyday I had to brace myself for some more foolishness. Then another girl joined their little group. She went right along with them and she didn't even know me! Why am I saying this you ask? Because those same people "slut" shamed me and got the whole class to do the same. There was a kid in my class named Bobby (not his real name). He was mischievous. He always got in trouble at school. He thought that he was cool. One day I was in class and I bent over to pick up a book. He was gyrating behind me and I had no knowledge of it. The whole class called me a slut because they thought that I wanted him to do it but I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT HE WAS DOING IT! So the girl that I talked about earlier in the story, Alexia, was the first to shout out "Hoe" and the rest of the class followed through. It was a ritual for them to tease me daily. I didn't seem bothered but I was. Then my reputation was so tarnished that in April of 2010, a boy forced me to perform oral sex on him. His name was Johnathan. I didn't want to do it so he grabbed my hair and forced me. I struggled. He was then unsuccessful and threatened to tell everyone that I did it just because I didn't want to. On that day my life changed forever. Everybody including my big brother called me a slut. I tried to kill myself twice. Why you may ask? Because I told the guidance counselor and the teachers and they took no action! That was sexual harassment and it happened on school grounds. I was still a virgin. I wasn't promiscuous. I had no one to turn to. I looked in the mirror and said to myself that I can make it through it all. I went to school everyday. Slut was basically stamped on my forehead. So I wrote 4 books. These books were over exaggerated stories of how slutty I was. I made up fake sexual experiences since people wanted to believe it. I said that I fucked this guy and he didn't even exist (joke's on whoever believed it). I was entertaining the rumors basically because they wouldn't believe me if I denied it. In 8th grade those rumors stopped. Almost everyone that bullied me no longer went to that school. It was like a new life. I dated my long time friend (we lasted 3 1/2 years). Life got better. Until high school... In my senior year I broke up with my boyfriend that I dated since 8th grade. It was my choice actually. So since I was single I wanted to mess around so I slept with a long time friend that went to my school. He lied to me and told me that I could've trusted him and he wouldn't expose my business to everyone so I had sex with him. He told all of my ex's friends including my ex. My got into a new relationship and his girlfriend was spreading these rumors too, but she kind of added more to it. She said that I slept with all of his friends but it was only that one guy. I got into a fight with her over the rumors and ever since then, they ceased but I learned to never be ashamed of being sexual. Yes I trusted the wrong person and I felt guilt when people found out, including my ex, but I learned to not care. I am me. I am not really promiscuous but I love sex. We as women shouldn't feel shame for wanting sex. I was even shamed before having sex! When I actually had sex I was in my mid teens (16, 17, 18) and it wasn't with a lot of people and even if it was, I still wouldn't feel shame. I don't feel guilty that I slept with him because it felt great. I just wish that I could've trusted him. Please don't kill yourself. Please don't feel ashamed! Sex is a part of nature and both sexes are welcome to engage in that activity! Unfortunately for me and where I live I couldn't freely fuck guys without being shamed. It's my vagina, I don't need permission from society to use it. I don't need permission from society about how many people I can use it with. As for my ex, I am not sure if he actually "slut" shamed me but he was disrespectful for even telling his new girlfriend about a lie and allowing her to shame me. He changed as a person. He was such a gentleman when we were dating. Now he's just a horrible person. Never allow your ex or anyone to shame you! - Lynn Joseph
Wow, is this embarrassing. I would like to stay anonymous. My story starts roughly two or three years ago. I was in a relationship at the time, I was 16. I had befriended a young man in my class, we'll call him J, and we clicked instantly. He was the one I went to for everything, he was my rock. Things got a little shaky between my boyfriend and I, so I turned to my friend J for help. Along with friendly advice, J began giving me countless compliments, building my self confidence. The compliments turned into innocent flirting, and that turned into me developing a huge crush on J. I knew my feelings for J did not outweigh those for my boyfriend, but he was giving me attention that I wasn't receiving in my relationship, and I liked it. J made me feel absolutely beautiful. Weeks passed and J had convinced me to send nude pictures of myself to him. I did, and I loved the attention he gave me for it. We flirted and talked back and forth for a while until I became incredibly sick with myself. I wanted to build the courage to tell my boyfriend about my unloyal actions. I cut things off with J, which led him to telling my boyfriend everything before I had the chance to. I was devastated. My boyfriend left, as expected. After my relationship had ended, almost everyone knew about my situation. My pictures were sent around school, and they spread like wildfire to adjoining cities. I lost all my friends, my boyfriend, and my ability to trust. Months later, I was at track practice after school when a teammate approached me with her phone. My pictures had been posted to Twitter. I couldn't believe it at first, but it was there, online, for everyone to see. I couldn't deny it, my face was in the pictures. Everyone at school mocked me. Anti-bullying rallies were scheduled, and I could not sit through them without having every students' eyes pinned on me. I went home and tried to kill myself. I attempted to overdose on any type of pill we had in the medicine cabinet. I ended up throwing everything up. I hated myself. I was so stupid, I couldn't even succeed at taking my own life. I am still mocked. People still whisper when I walk by. My name is slathered on bathroom walls, and every now and then, my nude pictures pop up on social media. When will it end?
I hope that this helps someone out there, because I always feel so alone in this personal struggle.10/24/2019
When I was 17 I sent nude pictures and a video of myself touching myself to a boy I was mad about. At first I had no idea that he had kept these videos, we were on good terms and still talking. It wasn't until I started saying no to his requests that he started blackmailing me. And that's when he showed the pictures/videos to all the boys and girls in my school year and below. I literally hated my life. I could feel the whispers in the halls, read the tweets and even some people said it to my face, 'What did you expect? You were a slut.' Oh I'm sorry, but what was sent, was sent in trust. And lets not forget his constant begging and all the videos and pictures I received. People don't realise how much the word 'slut' hurts. Girls harm/kill themselves over things like this! I only really realized the other day why I sent these things in the first place: he was giving me attention. And me, lacking in confidence, jumped at the chance to please him. It's over a year later, and I still think about this boy everyday, probably because its still brought up on social media and at social occasions. He has since apologized but that still doesn't help the cloud of worry that hangs over my head. I'm hoping that someday this will be a distant memory and lesson. I also hope that this helps someone out there, because I always feel so alone in this personal struggle. I try to be positive about this situation. If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't have realized how strong I am.
When I was 11, I sent my first naked picture. I can't exactly remember why I didn't it, but it wasn't that bad. I sent it to someone that I had trusted, and he kept that trust - as far as I know. The bullying didn't start until 2014, when I was 12. I sent a picture of my "ass" to someone. I sent it because he'd shown me a picture of another girl, and I wanted to impress him. He respected me, but deep down I knew it would get into the wrong hands. I should've known not to trust somebody who sent me someone else's pictures. He sent it to someone who disliked me, and they posted it on my social media, which luckily wasn't linked to any of my family or school friends as it was just for "online friends." You'd think after that I would learn, right? I didn't. I met this guy online, we'll call him B, it was August 2014 and he was 18. I told him I was 16 because I didn't want him to judge me by my age, and I really liked him. We started to date and we really hit it off. After a month into the relationship we had a sexual conversation. I didn't mind. I told him I was turned on and masturbating, and he said "proof." I sent two pictures. Now I had sent three inappropriate pictures to strangers on the internet. B and I broke up; it was a bad break up. We had an argument and I couldn't take it anymore, so, and I quote, I told him to "go fuck a goat." This made him mad. He told me I didn't want to mess with him, but I did. He spread my pictures. Again, luckily, not getting to my family nor my school friends. I find myself repeating myself, but by now you'd think, "Ah she's learnt her lesson, she'll be fine." Oh no. God no. It hasn't even started yet. Since the pictures got spread, I started to lose respect for myself and my body everyday. Every time someone would say something insulting about the pictures, my self esteem would drop lower until I felt unwanted and unloved. People called me "easy" and "slut" and I started to believe it. By 2015, I'd sent more naked pictures than I can count. And I am not proud.
My 13th birthday was January 5th 2015, and my granddad had died 4 days before. I was going through a very hard time. I met another guy online, this time he was 20. We'll call him L. L helped me get through this time, but it was not long before he started asking for more than an innocent relationship. He started asking for pictures, he'd also ask for "Skype sex," which is when he masturbates on webcam, and so do I. I did it. Little did I know, L recorded it. He also saved every picture and video I sent him. He used it against me. I gave him my password to my Facebook account, and it was the same password for all of my other accounts. I was so stupid. He found a chat I'd had with a guy while we were dating and he overreacted. I can remember having to shower that night but I couldn't because L was threatening me. He wouldn't let me go and by then I was in tears. He told me to call him so I did. L told me he had my parents' contact details and that he would tell them all about their "precious little daughter." I knew these were empty threats but they still upset me. I couldn't stop crying and I begged L to stop. "I'll do anything, please." I remembering crying into my phone. He finally calmed down and I remember him saying something about loving him and I agreed. I was now in a long distance relationship I couldn't get out of. He had my passwords, he had my family (which I later found out to be not true, but I still was scared in case he really did), and he had naked pictures and videos of me. I broke up with him finally in the middle of February, and I met M. M helped me get away from L, but L warned me about M, telling me M was worse than him. I didn't listen. But I should've listened. M and I had a long distance relationship on and off for 3 months. He cheated on me and I broke up with him. He begged for me back and I forgave him, stupidly. A few weeks later I broke up with him again because we argued too much. He attempted being nice to me to get me back, and I think he realised this didn't work. He became really nasty. He had a picture of my boobs that he could use against me. He also had my sister's Twitter username. He told me I had to cut "M" into my wrist and take a picture of it and send it to him, otherwise he would send the nude to my sister. I did the self harm. M wanted more. He attempted to force me into having a relationship and I wasn't going to do that again. I decided I would rather die. So that's what I did. The next morning, after M had messaged my sister, I read the messages. She didn't believe the picture was me. I felt relieved. Yet I still couldn't face her and I still wanted to die. I overdosed on painkillers that day, 14th April 2015, the day I could've died. My sister found me when she came home from her study group. My mum was also home and I don't know what happened because I was unconscious and it's all a blur really. I had to spend 3 days in hospital, I had to be assessed without them asking for my consent, and I had to see a psychiatric doctor (who is lovely and I still see today), to discuss my treatment and also why I did it. I now am on the waiting list for therapy, I have a family that understands, I have really supportive friends that know a bit of what happened, and I can honestly say I'm becoming happier. I need to work on some things but I'm getting better. And I can also honestly say, no more nudes to random strangers online!!! Your diary entries really helped me, knowing that your younger brain worked the same way as mine once did, and still does at times. Thank you. - Holly I'm from the wonderful state of Wisconsin. I grew up in a town of around 2,000 people, and everybody knew everybody. Secrets were not kept very well here. I grew up around parents that were very accepting, and that was all I knew. Until I hit middle school. I went through puberty at a very early age, and I looked different. I had large breasts and I didn't understand why people would stare. To me they were just normal and nothing to look at. Upon entering 7th grade I began to get harassed and guys would ask me for sexual favors. When I would say no, they would spread rumors about how I was a whore and how I had STDs. This was really hard for me to cope with, so I began to cut myself to try to handle the pain. I would carve words such as 'slut', 'ugly' and 'useless' into my skin to try and survive the bullying. When it was the summer of 8th grade, I had found a boy who seemed interested in me. Much to my dismay, he was only interested in my body. The first day we hung out, he touched me in very inappropriate ways and talked me into having unprotected sex. I was too scared to say no so all I did was let him do what he wanted. The next day he told me I was a useless bitch and how I would never be loved. He then proceeded to tell all his friends what he did and I lost all my friends. His friends would contact me on social media and call me terrible names and tell me to kill myself. I went through a terrible patch of suicidal thought and began wondering what I did to be hated so much. Luckily, my parents found out and helped me pull myself together. Please, if you're ever feeling suicidal remember that somebody always loves you. There's always help and hope. - Liz Noeske
My story doesn't start in school. It doesn't start anywhere physical in fact. This was a form of cyber-bullying. Extreme cyber-bullying. Most say that cyber-bullying is easy to stop and it doesn't exist. Not this, because believe me, I tried. I was 12 when it started. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I became part of an online community and everyone was older than me. I lied about my age and said I was 15, I didn't want to be treated as a minority because of my age. As I kept the lie going I figured I'd have to act like a 15 year old girl would do, and I had a 15 year old sister, so I started watching her closely to see how she acts. I went to the extreme of going through her phone chats. I saw that she'd sent nude pictures of herself to her ex-boyfriend, and I was only trying to be like her. Someone asked me for a nude picture, and because I didn't want to be different, I sent it. I thought it'd be okay, I thought it would never come up again. Oh how wrong I was. The guy I had sent it to spread it, and someone that got hold of it had a very big grudge against me. He posted it for everyone to see. I wasn't bothered because it was only my butt, and you see them everyday, but I was labelled as "easy." I started to believe it. I started to believe I was easy.
I got into a long distance relationship with an 18 year old, he didn't know I was 12 at the time, he thought I was 15 almost 16. He asked to see a picture of my vagina. I sent it. When we broke up, he leaked the picture, and I didn't think that would still be haunting me, but I still get people coming up to me and quoting the caption (it was sent via snapchat). It really knocked my confidence, so I sent naked pictures of myself a lot, just to feel good about myself. It was a way of coping, it helped me stop cutting. It went too far one day. A boy found my sister's twitter account. He started threatening me and blackmailing me. I couldn't take it. He sent my sister a nude of me and I didn't take it well. That day I tried to kill myself. I couldn't face the fact that I was a "slut." That I sent pictures of myself when I was 12-13. I couldn't face it anymore. Everything had built up so I did it. I overdosed on painkillers. I'm still 13, it has been 2 months since I overdosed and I am getting better. I have psychiatric sessions every month and I'm on the waiting list for therapy. I also must say that Wattpad has helped me a lot too. It made me feel less lonely in a way. It makes me happy. I no longer think badly about myself. I no longer send naked pictures of myself to strangers. I no longer believe that I'm "easy." People change. And I'm glad I did. I live in Saudi Arabia. I am an Arab with Kenyan nationality which confuses most people since they believe all Africans are 'black'. I have seven sisters and an adopted brother. We were one happy family, although dad's relatives opposed dad's marriage to my mom since they despised my late grandmother. We were, in a way, bullied by them but dad never acknowledged it. My mom was always kind to them even when they accused her of cheating on my dad. We were never treated fairly. I joined school first in 2003. My elder sisters made sure to let people know not to mess with me and I was grateful, although I could stand up for myself. I wasn't bullied but I couldn't stand seeing my classmates bully a chubby kid in my class who wasn't exactly mentally stable (I don't know what he exactly suffered from). I tried to make them stop but almost half of the class was against me so it was futile attempt. He sat alone in the corner. One day, I was left alone in class with him so I tried befriending him, but he started panicking and put his arms around himself as if shielding himself from the hit. I was too scared to move since I was only 9. I tried to tell him I wouldn't hurt him but he suddenly unzipped his pants and let it fall. I couldn't take it anymore so I left him there. I never tried being his friend again, but I never stopped trying to make the bullying stop. A year later, he died in a car accident. I always felt sad that I couldn't be of much help to him.
I was also molested by my uncle. I didn't know what he was doing that time but it always scared me too much to tell anyone. I was also molested by a worker that dad hired in my home. Then, again, I was molested when I would go to the shop. I never said a thing and I know it was a stupid move but I was always scared of the outcome. After my sixth sister was born, dad started drinking. He came home drunk and yelled all night long. I went to school the next day acting. No one knew about it, and even thought I was in one happy family. I really enjoyed school because it made me escape my home, but dad got worse and locked us home sometimes, even during exams. When people asked we always gave them an excuse. One day dad hit my second elder sister but it ended badly for him, since my eldest sister and mom stopped him. My eldest sister hit him so bad that he crawled to his room and locked the door. I don't know how she got the strength to do so but I am not complaining, since she put a stop to him. Later we decided the best way to avoid him was to leave home and return when he was asleep. So we ended up doing just that. We couldn't go to the police since it is Saudi Arabia. I gained weight and friends started to bully me, but I immediately stood up for myself, not giving them a chance to get worse. I was known to act more mature than my age and I gave the impression of not to be messed with. Although I tried not to let their words affect me, it did ruin my self confidence. After few years I went to Kenya to study there. I got a boyfriend, he was really good. But dad found out and my relatives told him more lies and by the end he called me a slut whom mom never raised right. I broke up with him because I didn't want my family to involve him in our problems. My relatives lied all about what I do, so by the end I was called a slut by dad and he put all the blame on my mom. Although all that happened I had never disrespected anyone and always smiled at people, even though I was labelled as mannerless. I contacted my friend from Saudi Arabia, my former classmate was great guy to talk to. We became close. I told him almost everything about my life. Later dad decided it would be best to not let me or my sisters study since we were all sluts, according to him. So I was brought back to Saudi Arabia. He stopped drinking but he became worse. He took our phones and watched our every moves like a hawk (which he still does). I bought a secret phone and contacted my friends. I started liking the guy (former classmate) but did nothing since he had a girlfriend and she was also a friend of mine. When they broke up, I still never planned on acting on my feelings but it all ended when I started talking to my old crush. The guy I liked was jealous but didn't accept it and we fought. I decided to tell him how I felt to move on and when I did he simply answered 'I don't care.' Although it hurt I let it go and did what I always seem to do. Act like nothing is wrong and I wasn't hurting. Later he went and spread lies to his friends and again I got called a slut. I always get called hot and sexy but I never believe these words. I burst out laughing when I am told. I am not good at responding to compliments because deep down I never believed it. It sucks that after going through all that and seeming strong, funny, helpful, and sarcastic I still get betrayed by people I really trusted and I still keep caring. I don't know if I am crazy or not, I still haven't given up on being myself and helping others. It helps me feel like there are really good reasons to keep moving. - Lin Monet From the very start I used to be with boys and was not fond of girls. I hated to chatter about boys all day so, I found a special place in this guy gang. I was the favourite one of the boys, which made other girls jealous. They started calling me as a hoe and start to spread rumors about my sexual life. I ignored all and moved forward in life. I was in 10th grade and was doing perfectly fine when one of my friends asked me out, he used to be the crush of my only girl friend. It was kinda weird to go out with this guy. My friend forced and convinced me that this guy is a gem of a person and as a result I went out with this guy. It was all good so we decided to continue our meetings. I started feeling the connection between us and then the day come when he asked for my nudes (nude pictures). I wasn't comfortable with this thing so I rejected, this thing continued for like 1 month. He started to threaten me that he would leave if I wouldn't provide him with nudes, it was kinda my best relationship and wanted to save that but nudes were not my thing. One afternoon, we were at my home and were just relaxing and we decided to take our relationship a step forward but all of a sudden he got a call from one of his friends and he left. After 4 days we broke up and I convinced myself that he wasn't the guy I deserve. He spread rumors in the whole school stating that he had my nudes, my friends started to boycott me, people stared at me and called me a hoe. But? As I was aware that karma leaves no one spare, he flunked 11th grade twice, he used to be my senior and now I am his senior. To all the girls who are reading this? You're beautiful and you don't need a guy to tell you that, just play safe. Choose a person wisely, not every person out there deserves your attention. - Mugdha Dhingra
I've always been one to stand up for myself. I'm so thankful for a strong, proud, loving mother, who taught me to value myself, that my words and thoughts are valid, and that my body is my own. In elementary school, I first encountered sexual bullying. It wasn't being directed at me, but one of my best friends, who had developed large breasts at an early age (around 5th grade.) Boys and girls called her a "slut," and talked about her body freely. It got to the point that she was afraid to even go swimming with me without wearing a big, opaque t-shirt. I experienced bullying in different forms at the time, so while I identified with the pain bullying caused, I couldn't identify with the type of bullying she was experiencing. It wasn't until I was in 8th grade that I started to, sadly, understand what she'd gone through. Boys began thinking it was funny to "snap" a girl's bra clasps and straps. One boy, who I considered a friend, walked by me in the very crowded hallway one day, and pulled back on my bra, hard. I instantly became enraged, and slugged him in the arm. I felt so violated, not just because of the physical and sexual nature of the act, but because it violated the trust I had in him as a friend. I started to develop a reputation as someone not to be messed with, due to my confidence and ability to stand up for myself and other people. Most people thought I was much tougher than I actually was in school, and it's a little sad to think that the negative side of that kind of reputation may have caused some people not to want to get to know me, because they thought I was a "bitch." In high school, I experienced unwanted touch, like an ambush kiss in the hallway, and the occasional sexually explicit comment. For the most part, the incidents were mild. I think it's probably because I wasn't a very sexual person at a young age, and wasn't necessarily "girly"; I was more focused on school work and art than relationships, and didn't even begin wearing makeup or styling my hair until my junior year in high school. It was that year that I had the most disturbing experience with a classmate, a boy, in one of my classes. He was a goth kid, shy, smart, and nice to me. I wasn't attracted to him, but I enjoyed talking to him, so when he asked me to a dance, I said I'd go with him as a friend. We agreed to meet there, and we just hung out for most of the dance, since he didn't actually have any interest in dancing. After the dance was over, he tried to kiss me, but I moved away. He asked if I wanted to go out on a date with him, and I, politely as I could, said that I wasn't interested. The next week at school, a friend came running up to me saying that he was telling a group of people in the courtyard that I was a bitch for rejecting him, and that he was going to slit my throat. No one, to my knowledge, had ever threatened my life before, and this boy was so angry that I wouldn't kiss him or date him that he was telling everyone who would listen that he was going to kill me, and how. I remember putting on a brave face, and telling my friend that I wasn't afraid, but I was. I believed that this boy would hurt me if he got the chance. I even wished that I had allowed him to kiss me, so that he wouldn't be so angry. I honestly don't remember which adults I decided to tell about his threats, if any, but, thankfully, he never attempted to harm me. It was the first time I'd ever really rejected someone's advances, and I found out instantly how dangerous that can potentially be. It was a turning point for me, knowing how far some people are willing to go when they don't get what, or who, they want. Later in school, I would go on one date with another boy who I liked, but after going out, didn't want to pursue a relationship. I turned him down when he asked me out again, and he told people that I had "led him on," and called me some names. I would think that it was hurtful, but that it could be so much worse. - Chelsea Keesler
I am 55 years old now. This has been in my background forever and I have never shared this with anyone but my son's therapist. I was the baby of my family and the only girl. I grew up with my brothers and their friends talking about "those girls", the "sluts" who were easy and had sex. I was first molested by a friend of my oldest brother when I was 5. He fondled me and performed oral sex on me. I was too ashamed to say anything to anyone as only those "sluts" had sex. It happened again when I was 12 and this time it was by a friend of my middle brother. Again I thought I was to blame as only "sluts" had sex. I became very promiscuous and found out that I actually enjoyed sex. I always felt bad I didn't tell anyone because I worried about others that were molested by these guys. I have two children and when they would speak of young ladies and start to refer to them as sluts, I told them just because someone enjoyed sex and determined when and where they would have it did not make that individual a slut or loose or a whore. Both of them, a girl and a boy, knew it was a woman's right to call the shots in her sexual life.
Hello, I was a victim of rape when I was 19 and I was molested as a child. Growing up, I was happy go lucky. Then in high school, my junior year, I was so depressed and wanted to kill myself. I had a suicide attempt. I was talking to a guy I met online. Because I never met a guy in my small town that I liked. (I would never recommend meeting someone online, you don't know.) At the time, being 17, I was so lonely and I never felt worthy of a man's love. So I was always looking for it in the wrong places. Anyways, junior year was going great, I just won court warming princess at school and I was talking to a "great" guy. He kept asking me to take a picture without a shirt on. He kept threatening me that he would kill my family. Well I took one with my bra on. He sold it to a porn site, and he was not the age he said he was. I was cat fished. Sent me in a depressed spiral, I had so much anxiety. I wanted to disappear. I went to counseling after that and got help. Then when I was 19, I was going down a dangerous road. I met another guy on a dating site. He seemed harmless. So I thought. I went to his house, where I thought we were just going to watch a movie. Instead he violently raped me. I was so emotional and hurt physically and mentally. I went to the police 3 days later, and I didn't have enough evidence against the prick so they could not press charges. I felt like the legal system let me down. I got help though for that. I don't let rape define who I am. I am not a victim anymore, I am a survivor. I was called a lying slut by people after it happened. He told many people and so did my so called friends. No one ever deserves to get raped! I don't care what you do for work, what type of person you are, where you come from. NO means NO. I now let the negative people that called me those names out of my life. Through many months of counseling, I learned I am a strong women. And I could battle anything that comes my way. I am now in a healthy relationship and I turned my life around. I talk about what happened to me so people learn from my mistakes. And I explain about cyber bullying. I would love to talk to larger groups one day. No one is a slut. It's a disgusting, meaningless word. Until you walk a mile in someone's shoes, you can't judge them or give them a label. Everyone can battle what they have been through. - Survivor.Not.A.Victim.
When I came back from being in the hospital to high school, I was not welcomed with opened arms.10/21/2019
It all started when I was 5 years old. I was in kindergarten. Kids would tease me because I was so different, calling me retard, stupid, I would just lash out and hit one of one the bullies because I did not know how to control my anger. So I was put in a private school. The school could not handle bad behavior so I was kicked out. I was a loner and did not have many friends! My dad abused me as a child with a belt at age 5 on up until I was 11, and with no dinner. As I was growing up I was out of the one private school and put back in regular school when I was in 4th grade to 5th grade and I was 11 and 12 yrs old. My next door neighbor molested me at the age of 11 for about 6 months and was never convicted of it. I never told anyone about it until years later. While that was going on I would mutilate myself with a razor blade. When I was 13 years old I was molested by my stepfather from 13 to 16. He never was convicted. While that was going on I tried to kill myself with a knife. I was kicked out of 6th grade because I beat up the bully and I tried to kill myself! When I was 14 years old I was date raped by two guys. One guy I knew of, the other guy I never knew at all. The one guy hit my head in the back seat and knocked me out and that is all I could remember. They both were not convicted! I was 18 years old when my ex boy friend abused me. He was a lot older than me by 13 years. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me across the floor, and took his head and split my lip, and took out his 37 and put it to my head and said, "You're mine." To this day I have a restraining order on him for life. In the same year I was going back to regular school (when I was 17, that is when I went back). I was doing okay, did not make friends well, I was a loner! I went to my junior prom in 1991. So in 1991 to 1992 as I was in my senior year, I just lost it. I was put in a mental facility for teenagers because I was still going to school. I just one day snapped, as I was out of control of what happened to me in the past and what was current at the time. When I came back from being in the hospital to high school, I was not welcomed with opened arms. I was bullied so badly I came home just in tears. It was so bad, sexually and other things, they called me Hotdog Girl: "I heard when she stuck it up there it broke off and she had to be rushed to the hospital to have it surgically removed," over and over again during my high school senior year in 1992. I had to be home schooled from November to May until I was at my senior prom. After that I went back to high school but that did not last long. Mind you, I was petite. I was skinny with big breasts. I was 109 lbs. On June 18th, 1992 as my name was called as I was getting my high school diploma, some guy called out and said, "Hey Hotdog Girl!" and everyone just clapped and cheered. I was so embarrassed, humiliated, and upset about it that I just decided that I will never go to a high school reunion. And I am now 41 years old! Only 3 people said they were sorry but the rest, no! On July 28th, 2010 I was getting bullied by a 30 year old female. Calling me all kinds of names, she struck me on the side of my neck with a closed fist and damaged my neck (called a brachial plexus injury). I will wear a splint on my left side of my wrist for the rest of my life. All because I was sticking up for myself and I was avoiding a fight to walk away! And justice was never served. - Jen
Let me start by divulging my age. I am 60 soon to be 61. I saw your story on The Doctors and it struck a chord. I suffered from the damages of the "slut" label while growing up in a southern California resort town, with little supervision, really no supervision. I was pinned down on the beach and groped by boys multiple times; I was 12. My crime was developing too fast, and my other crime was befriending a severely psychologically damaged, obviously sexually abused 12 yr old girl who was gang raped by older boys or as it was called pull the train. I was actually on a boat with her and my 12 yr old boyfriend when it happened. I panicked and one of the older boys took the two of us back to shore but left my friend behind. I have know idea how many times this scenario played out but it was many. What a sad creature with the dead look in her eyes. It was rumored she committed suicide. This event as well as the sexual abuse inflicted upon me by my father from age 6 to 9 shaped my self image and my behavior. I've never really recovered and have had many disastrous relationships but now at this age I am finally free, I don't need sex, I don't want sex, I'm free to never tolerate abusive behaviors that I used to tolerate because I was searching for love in all the wrong places. Now after raising five children and just starting grad school in marriage and family counseling, I'm not only taking control of my own life but reaching out in the hopes of making a difference in women's lives who have been there and are struggling to get back into life again. Being labeled a slut in middle school when girls are at their most vulnerable is a devastating thing to happen, even more so in today's digital world. I hope my story puts a different perspective on the topic. This is not a new phenomenon. - Allison Greer
Hello, my name is Estrella Adiana Hernandez. I'm from Tucson, AZ. When I heard about this program I was so happy that someone noticed us girls who were shamed for trusting the one we loved with a personal picture. I was just 14 when I had my first boyfriend. I trusted him enough to send him a nude picture. Just because I didn't have sex with him, this guy put my nude picture on Facebook. My life is hell. Everyone in Tucson and on Facebook knows who I am. I keep telling myself, "Who's gonna love a girl who is all over the Internet? Who's gonna want to marry someone who's been called a slut?" Lord knows how many people think I've been with everyone because of one picture. I never thought someone could make a girl feel so dirty. That she don't want to live anymore. I've even been bullied when I was in 8th grade by my ex boyfriend. He abused me so bad. I've been in and out of suicidal institutions. I learned how to love myself and someday, a mature guy will ask me to be his wife and I will be happy but till then, life is hell... Hopefully this project gets through to some guys out there because everyday we are losing girls who are sick of life. Thank you for building this project. I am so thankful. - Estrella Adiana Hernandez
It started freshman year of high school. I was fourteen at the time and like most fourteen year olds I was a little bit naive. So when a boy in my class started talking to me and wanted to hang out and maybe fool around a little bit, I thought it seemed like a great idea. In my mind fooling around meant kissing and maybe him going under my shirt. To him it meant something completely different. He also persuaded me to send him nude pictures. We ended up hanging out and it escalated quickly. He told me I should give him oral sex (he didn't call it that), and when I said "no, I've never done that before and I'm not ready to do that" he thought what he wanted was more important than what I wanted. He guided me to the ground (as I was saying no), put me on my knees and pushed my head on to his penis and held it there. I couldn't breathe. I started to cry, he told me I was horrible at it. Then he pushed me against the wall as he fingered me while I cried and said no. It was incredibly painful. A few days later people at my small high school found out we had "hooked up". Overnight I had become the school slut. People were coming up to me in the hallways, freshman through seniors alike, saying how much of a slut I was, or that they heard I had done this, that, and the other thing, and if I could do it for them too. Horrible rumors were spread about me. It wasn't just at school either---it continued online even after the school day was over. Before I knew it kids from other local schools were saying things as well. Guys would start talking to me and I thought they liked me...after a few friendly texts back and forth, they stopped trying and flat out said "so are you gonna send me a picture of your tits now or what?" This happened over and over again. It deflated my self esteem----and fourteen year old girls typically don't have the highest self esteem to begin with. I doubted my own self worth. I blamed myself constantly for what happened. How could I not when every single day I received comment after comment about how much of a slut I was and how no one will ever want me. The only reason guys talked to me was to get pictures. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore and didn't have the energy to fight back or to try to prove any of them wrong. They believed what they wanted to believe anyway, so I didn't see how I could change that. Why would they want to believe what actually happened when the story they heard was way more interesting and scandalous. I started sending guys pictures whenever they asked.
I didn't really hook up with another guy until two years later. I was extremely uncomfortable and didn't have enough self confidence to say no to things that I didn't want to happen. The first guy didn't listen so why would this guy? I wasn't into what we were doing. I wasn't even mentally in the room. My mind was somewhere else. It was an out of body experience. I was watching him hold my head forward as he put his penis in my mouth, and as he fingered me while he had his hand tightly around my throat. The the next time I hung out with a guy, at 16, I thought we were friends. I didn't think he was ONLY after me for sexual things. But once again I was proved wrong. We had texted about some things we wanted to do to each other, but we had also texted a lot about non sexual things. So when we hung out he expected we were going to do what we talked about, and when I said I realized I wasn't comfortable with it and I really did not want to do it, he told me "sluts can't change their minds." He pushed me on the bed, took his pants off and took my clothes off. I kept saying no and trying to change the subject. He put a condom on, told me I would like it. I protested a few more times, started crying and then just laid there like a dead fish staring blankly at the ceiling while he went inside me. I didn't move my body at all. This frustrated him and he put his hand under me and started to move my body into his. He finished and threw my clothes at me. I left as quickly as I could. A year or so later I met a guy and we started dating. It was a real relationship. A month or two in I told him a little about my past and he still wanted to be with me. Eventually I told him everything, and that was the first time I STARTED to see that it wasn't my fault what happened to me. I still was not ready to face it all though. Things were great with him. We fell in love and were in a relationship for three years, mutually ending things when we realized we were on two completely different paths. But there was a major problem in our relationship, although we both tried our best to pretend it wasn't there and that we could overcome it: anything related to sex. Sometimes I was completely okay with things and 100 percent into it. Other times I wasn't but I never said no. I didn't know how to say no. I didn't think I deserved to say no. So it became a constant fight because he could tell when I wasn't into it. He told me I needed to say no if I didn't want to do something. So I started to...and I felt empowered for the first time. So I started saying no more than I was saying yes. At the time I didn't really understand why I was doing that...but upon further self reflection and maturity...I now know that I was so deeply uncomfortable and squeamish about anything related to sex, that it was easier for me to avoid it altogether. I didn't want to pretend that I was enjoying something and I was tired of feeling uncomfortable. It was extremely frustrating for me to be turned on and to want to enjoy being intimate with my boyfriend, but somehow I always ended up going back to being fourteen and being the school slut. Certain things were better than others, and I preferred to do things to him rather than risk having him do something to me and losing any sense of control. It wasn't until shortly before our break up this past year that I started to understand and was emotionally ready to reflect on what happened to me. I realized that I was sexually assaulted, that it was not my fault, and that even though I didn't physically fight them off of me and after a while I stopped saying "no", I never said or SHOWED any signs of saying yes. Crying, turning away, passively lying there, not kissing them back, not looking at them, not helping in any way.....those all say no. They had no right to do the things they did to me. The things they did and the backlash I received all four years of high school and occasionally still today--- it all deeply affected me and my life. I still feel shame talking about or doing anything related to sex. I'm still afraid thats the only reason a guy is talking to me. I'm scared to show that I'm interested in something sexual because I don't want people to think I'm a "slut". My reputation was destroyed because of things I did not even want to happen. I have recently started working through this with a counselor and it has helped immensely. But I'm still constantly afraid I'm going to be uncomfortable in sexual situations for the rest of my life. I am just starting to talk to guys again after my break up, I spent the past 5 months focusing completely on myself and finally confronting the trauma I experienced. And as far as I have come in the past 5 months, I know I still have a great deal of work to do to get to the point where this is truly a part of my past and not a part of my everyday thoughts. To those boys who took my innocence and made my first sexual encounters deeply traumatizing and to the hundreds of people who made comments about how much of a dirty slut I was; I want you to know I forgive you. Even though you probably have no idea what you did wrong (gotta love rape culture), I forgive you. And I want you to know that you didn't BREAK me. You cracked a few pieces of me, but you never broke me. And you never will. I am a million times stronger because of the horrible things you did to me. I am a kind, compassionate, genuine, smart, considerate beautiful person. You can't ever take those things away from me. You never did, and you sure as hell never will. I was a happy 12 year old. I was overweight and I loved myself. I had everything - adoring parents, a great hobby, and a sustainable allowance for everything I could have asked for. He was not a bad person. I knew it. His mother had cancer and passed away, and he didn't have a penny on him to eat. We were friends, we liked teasing one another, we hung out... until one day, he asked me to meet him at the lift lobby. He said something about giving me a gift and wanting to show me something, and I thought nothing of it. What would a twelve year old child do with me anyway? I could take care of myself, or so I thought. I thought nothing of it. I left my classroom curious about what his gift could be. I wish I had suspected something was amiss. The boy who barely had fifty cents for a plate of noodles wanted to buy me a gift. I did meet him, and he said a string of horrible things that all fade into the words "whore" and "prostitute" and then he touched me. My confidence was shattered. I went home and showered until my skin was raw, and I felt dirty. It was as if I got a layer of grime on my skin and a sticker on my forehead that screamed "dirty" or "prostitute". I believed every single one of his words. I told my mother a few days later and I remember her laughing about it with my dad. I did not understand what was going on, and I thought that it was all just a phase I was going through. The next day at school people called me a slut. My friends left. My team turned on me. People said I had sex with him for cash. The teachers who knew warned me against saying anything, intimidating me into silence and hoping that things would blow over, but the scars are still open and have been for a while. I am suicidal. I then got depression, anorexia and insomnia. I left the school for a new one and the lies followed. My relationships with my parents are in the gutter. I've been depressed and anorexic for three years and things are not looking up. I've been touched so many times in my new school I've lost count. This has been going on for three years and I am on my last legs, and it is not going to stop soon. Please share my story so people understand the horrible consequences of slut shaming. - Katrina North Note to the Katrina: You are NOT alone, and this is NOT your fault. You can overcome it, just like the women who have shared their stories here before you. Please call 1-800-273-8255. I am always here to talk, as well. Love, Emily.
Once when I was 17, I used to be really into drugs. I would take any offer to do them no matter how sketch the situation seemed. One thing I never did do, nor will ever do, is sexual favors for drugs, but back to my story. I got a call at 3:00 am from one of my guy friends who told me he was at the end of my street and to come down to smoke a bowl of weed. I woke up and went down the street when I got there he handed me a bong and some weed and then I took a couple rips then he took the bong away. He asked if I wanted to have sex. I said no and that I was just here to smoke. He said that the weed wasn't for free and I had to return the favor, and I didn't have a choice. Then proceeded to grab me and push my body over and rip off my dress, literally rip my dress off. I tried to get up and scream for help and he pushed me back down over a brick wall so I hit my head on the bricks. I got scared that I was going to start to bleed out of my head, and because I have a bleeding disorder I could bleed out very quickly if I got too bad of a gash. So I just laid bent over and took it. He anally raped me for what felt like forever. When I felt like his grasp had loosened, I jumped up. It startled him, causing him to push back. I ran as fast as I could back home, leaving my ripped dress behind but pulling the shirt I had over it all the way down. I was in shock for the next too weeks. He had torn my rectum and I bled for three days after the incident. I convinced myself that it was my fault and I had asked for it. It got to the point that I was even trying to convince myself I wanted it. Then one day I learned about a thing called feminism, and that it's not okay to do that to humans. We need to be treated equal and it doesn't matter what I wore or did, if I said, "no," then I meant no. There's no pressuring me into saying yes. There's no threatening or bribing me to say yes. Three no's and one yes doesn't make consent. I've realized that we should teach others not to rape instead of teaching people to not victimize themselves so they get raped. It has been four years since the event. I am in a drug program. I attend NA meetings, I go to college and am studying to be a school psychologist, and I have a job at TERI Inc. which is a center for developmentally disabled adults and children. I go to therapy once a week and work out my sexual assault a little every time. I do suffer from PTSD, but I live a better life now. I don't let my rape hold me back today. Stay strong everyone! - Katie
When I was 8 I was sexually molested by my best friend for over a year and at that time my family wasn't really there for me, or I just didn't want to burden them with something that seemed so confusing and disturbing, so instead I turned to self harm. It wasn't like I woke up one morning and said to myself "let's cut". It was actually an accident: I was washing the dishes when I dropped a glass and when I was cleaning it up, I cut my hand on the sharp part of the broken glass piece, and that numbing feeling that I had had for so long disappeared, but then came back after a while, so I thought that if I cut I don't have to cry, I don't have to tell anyone and everything would be fine. But even though I had gotten over the molesting and even though I had forgiven in my heart my ex-best friend, I still cut. Probably because I reprogrammed my brain so that when I wanted to cry I would feel ashamed for being weak and I would hate myself, so instead I cut. Every time something emotional happened in my life I would turn to cutting. But when I turned 17 I had finally gotten to a point where I couldn't keep it a secret from my mother anymore because she was my everything, my best friend, so I told and I asked her for help. I went to group therapy, which helped a lot, and now I am two years free of cutting so I am really happy to have finally gotten over the past. I hope everyone finds their mother figure and finds the hope and help that they need. But I can tell you this: with belief and love YOU will get through, it just takes time. - Katrina Kiss
I'm depressed. And that's all I ever was before year 7, I was just a tad bit depressed, self conscious, with low self esteem. But then I got my first boyfriend. And I got another. Then the next year, I got a boyfriend every single month - no exceptions. Then some boys decided to ask if we could go further and sext or actually have sex. I was constantly groped by them, they squeezed my ass or boobs against my consent whenever they had the chance. Now, I'm in year 8. I realised I'm bisexual, have a fear of being alone and I was in love with my girl best friend. And due to my fear of being alone, I'm going through boys at an even quicker rate, flirting constantly, because I'm scared it's the only love I'll ever get. My parents know a brief outline of the sexual harassment that's happened (one of my exes decided to spread around school that he only dated me coz I'm "easy" and that I have "big tits") but they, too, think I'm a slut. Constantly telling me over and over again I'm not good enough and that I shouldn't teach my "tricks" to my younger friends. Then everyone in my entire year knows my bra size, which is 34DD. And just from those simple things, everyone believes all the sexual content surrounding me. Now, I've lost 90% of my friends, and trust only 3 people in my entire school. Now I'm depressed, suicidal, a self harmer, and a slut. Note to the author: Since you submitted this account anonymously, I don't have your contact information. Please reach out to a parent or teacher for help immediately. You are NOT alone, and this is NOT your fault. You can overcome it, just like the women who have shared their stories here before you. Judging from your language, I am guessing you're in the UK. Please visit www.samaritans.org and check out the resources available to you. I am always here to talk, as well. Love, Emily
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