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My father for many years would sexually, physically, and verbally abuse me. At school I was seen as a slut. Many of my peers saw me as attention wanting and some thought I was lying (I was just really good at hiding the bruises). At the age of 13 I fell into a deep depression and began to seriously self harm and about three times I tried to commit suicide. When I reached high school my father became more aggressive with his abusing because I came out as homosexual. My girlfriend at the time was very caring and called the police on my father. It was only after I went to the station and told them myself and showed them the bruises, that they finally locked him up. I lived with my grandma since my mother died with I was 2. While looking through Wattpad, I discovered The UnSlut Project diary entries. I read them all in one sitting and I was so moved by them. I then watched the TED Talk and some other clips. When I reached this website I was comforted to know that I'm not the only one out there. So I'm here to say thank you. Even though I'm still struggling with depression and self-harming. I will never forget how there are people out there who are feeling the same way - and that gives me comfort. - Jamie
I'm 16. I was slut-shamed not too long ago... nearly a year ago in 2012-2013, all because of an rumor. My ex-boyfriend "Corey" started it. Around the time I met Corey (in summer school) I was in an long distance relationship, but Corey wouldn't leave me alone about going out with him. When school started in October I finally caved in and went out him. At first it was okay... nothing bad. He was actually kind of sweet, until he started wanting to get sexually involved. I'd make up excuses, but he kept asking me to come by his house. After a while, I realized that's all he wanted from me, so I cut him off. I didn't do anything with him, but he told his friends I had sex with him and that I gave him a blow-job. At first some of his friends asked me if it was true and I said no. But who would they believe? A girl they think is a foreigner and doesn't know anything about America (I lived in the Bahamas for 7 years and came back to America in mid 2012) or their "homeboy" they've probably know from middle school. I thought nothing of it, but rumors slowly started going around. His friends started calling me "bitch," "slut," "ho," "lame," and so on and so forth. Some of them would be nice to me one day and mean the other. And this boy I liked, he bullied me the most. He literally would call me a slut or stupid or always try to belittle me every time we had class together. It had gotten so bad to the point I stopped going to school. But my home environment wasn't a fairytale... it was hectic. Home and school made me slowly lose my mind. I felt like I had no one to turn to, so like you, I wrote in my diary. I was so miserable, contemplating suicide numerous times. I started believing in the rumors and questioning myself. "Maybe I AM a slut." "I'm too nice to everyone." "I should be mean like all the other girls." Wishing this nightmare could be over. Months later in 2013, the slut-shaming subsided. The only one who was calling me a slut every now and again was the boy I liked. He started being nice to me though. I got into a new relationship with a guy named Dre, but I left my old school and went to another one. A friend of mine told me, "Oh Dre's friend said you two banged," which wasn't true either. I felt like he, too, was using me. So I cut him off as well. It just made so angry. They probably think I'm a bigger slut now. I'm still so traumatized by the situation. Every decision I make is based around it. What I wear, who I talk to, who I hang out with, what I say, what I do. I have flashbacks of it, too, which hurts. I wish I could forget it. It's basically robbed me of my happiness and freedom. But your diary and work makes me feel hopeful. This is seriously long, I'm so sorry for this, but I want to say thank you Emily, for sharing your story, for wanting to take action against slut-shaming. I don't feel so alone anymore.
One of my best friends (13) is still suffering bullying. She's a beautiful young lady, and she started dating an older guy (16). He photoshopped a picture of her and started the rumor that she sent him a nude picture. Only some people know that it's false, but the rest always disparage her. Now, she's not the only one who's being called slut. That word, that word really hurts, she didn't do anything, me neither, and neither did my other friends, but we're being categorized with that horrible name. That word has to be eradicated not only from the US, or the UK, that word has to be eradicated from the whole world. And I think your diary and the documentary is going to be one of the lethal weapons that could kill bullying.
I enjoyed reading your diary entries so much and as happy as I am that life turned out great and that you were able to overcome those people, I will miss your entries cause they were my consoling factor in my life. It has been 7 long years of sexual bullying for me. It started in 6th grade after I was molested in the bus and at the end of 6th grade I ended up telling on the kid who did it to me. After that everyone said I deserved it and wanted it. My best friend told me I was lying and then dated the guy. That’s when I started cutting. And from then on I was the school whore. I didn’t have my first kiss till I was a sophomore and I lost my virginity to a guy that I dated for over a year. Yet I was known as the slut of my middle school and still my high school. I’m a senior now and everyday I walk down the halls and boys dodge out of the way from me and scream diseases. Someone started a rumor that I slept with a different guy every week and that I had so many STDs and people believed it. Yet I’ve only slept with three guys and all of them I was dating for at least half a year. And I’ve only kissed four guys and all but one I was dating. Things are looking up, though. I’ve kept my GPA at almost a 4.0 and I’m taking advanced classes and I just got accepted into my dream college. And I did something I never thought I would be able to do, which was compete in pageants, and I actually won. Even though I thought it would stop the rumors, it didn’t. But it has helped me so much in my confidence. When I found your blog a few months ago I wanted to help in some way but I didn’t know how. So I decided sharing my story was a great way to do that. It may not be as serious or as tragic as other girls' but it’s mine and it still affects me. I just want other girls to know that even a girl who you think has it all doesn’t and they could be going through the same thing as you and the only way to end things like this is to stop doing it to others and yourself and to stand up to other people. Im really going to miss your blog diary entries and congratulations on living a life well spent and trying to make a difference for girls like me too, who seem to have it all. But really don’t.
Your story inspires me, and I think you are very brave to post all of this up on the internet just to help other people. I am thirteen and in the past year I have been through a lot. One of the things was that people were saying I had gotten fingered. I didn’t actually, but rumors spread that I had been. For one thing, it wasn’t true. Then a lot of my very close friends (at the time) believed it, some of them even spread the rumors. I had people one, two, three and even four years older than me passing me in the hallway calling me ‘slut’ or ‘whore’. This went on for months. The thing I kept thinking through all of this was, okay, I didn’t, but what if I had? Would it really matter? Would it make any difference in these people’s lives if I did? I wasn’t ready to go that far yet, and I still am not and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. I also don’t think there would be anything wrong if I was ready, and had. A lot of other things you post in your story later on I find it very easy to relate to and I feel I understand a lot of what you went through. I think our stories are very similar and I was so relieved to find out, you know, maybe there is something wrong with this and it shouldn’t be happening. It’s not my fault, but rather the people who made me believe it is. To finish up I would like to say a huge thank you to you for The UnSlut Project. It really has made a huge difference to my life and I found it very comforting and reassuring to find out I am not the only person going through a lot of this stuff. I also keep a diary and I hope one day, I can look back on it, and understand the lessons I learned, and try to help other people based on my experiences, just as you are now. You are now one of my biggest role models and next time I encounter something similar to what happened to you, I will think “Emily got through it, so can I.” Thank you<3
I love reading your diary because it makes me really grateful of the safe environment I am in at my school. Where I used to go, I was being sexually harassed all the time. Everyone was calling me a slut and assumed I wanted things that I really didn’t just because of the way I dressed. It got so bad that I transferred to a school that didn’t tolerate any slut-shaming, and I am so happy that I can once again be a kid and not have to worry about things I shouldn’t.
Being brought in an orthodox family in an orthodox country, I had 0 interaction with boys. However that changed when I had to pursue graduation in another state. I used to keep diaries too, where I wrote down my feelings and later on memories of my dates. Unfortunately my local guardian found out my diary among my books and used it to slut-shame me before my parents, and later on, did not return my diary at all. I felt heartbroken to see some family members slut-shame me around my hometown.
Based on the dates [in your diary], I am a bit older- middle school was early 80’s for me. I have a daughter now, ending middle school this week. I was called “whore” and “slut” all through middle school - yet I had never had a boyfriend, or even really a crush. Thank you for sharing. It helps. Never think it doesn’t.
Eighth grade was the worst. On the bus there was one boy who would pick me up and throw me around, when I told him not to. He would sit on me and “tickle” and touch me, even when I was yelling at him to get off of me. There were two other boys at school who would make inappropriate comments, not only to me but to one of my friends as well. When I asked her what she did about it, she told me she just ignored it and pretended it didn’t happen. Maybe the first 10 times one of them stuck their hand down my shirt or held me down on the bus I told them to stop, but after a while it just seemed normal, I expected it, and boys thought they could just do what they wanted. The absolute worst was when a boy posted a video of me tying my shoe, where you could see down my shirt. I was so embarrassed, and everyone knew about it, even my teachers. I guess because I had some sort of “reputation” for “letting” boys touch me somehow, that they really thought it was okay to do what they wanted, kind of like you and the way boys treated you after what “you did” with Zach. I don’t know. Your story really means a lot to me.
When I started reading this, I was pretty jarred by how young you and your peers were while all this was going on. But then I looked back and remembered that when I was in middle school, I was helping my friends through self-harm problems, eating disorders, suicide attempts, bullying issues, and visits to mental hospitals. It’s horrible that anyone has to deal with these problems, let alone 10 - 13 year old children. Thank you so much for sharing your experiences. It’s very brave.
I still have a hard time being close to my husband because of what one teenage boy did to me.10/9/2019
Being just two years younger than you, so much of what you have to say resonates with me. Although my true “sexual awakening” came a few years later than yours did I experienced much of what you did socially at that age (and older). Part of the reason this blog means so much to me is because I (like most females) have seen so called “slut shaming” from every angle: I have been the victim, the perpetrator, and the silent victim.
The first incident I remember was a female friend that I remember as being “too friendly”… the first sexual contact I remember was from her in the third grade. Looking back I realize that she was sexually abused by her step father, and wish that I had been able to say something, but even at that age I “knew” I should be ashamed by what was going on between us. A year later I let a boy in my class touch me multiple times (usually because of threats of physical violence); this time I did tell my mother, and I remember that he was grounded for a weekend. The only saving grace about that was my mother supported me and told me that I was right for coming forward. I was called a slut in the 7th grade because I went on a walk with a boy that I didn’t even like and rumors were spread that I gave him a blow job or had sex with him (depending on who you asked). Although he was wonderful about trying to tell people the truth, it was 2 years before I could live it down. In the 9th grade I was raped by my boyfriend at the time and spent several years blaming myself. I remember feeling so terrible afterward and not being able to tell anyone… believe it or not, for some reason, the worst part about it was that he broke up with me a few days later and told people that he would “never touch me” because I was so ugly. I remember seeing girls bullied and called names, seeing a girl that was abused after drinking too much, and passing out, called a whore. I saw a girl that was shamed because she wasn’t afraid of being sexual (AT EIGHTEEN!), the girl who was shamed because she didn’t realize that the bra she was wearing showed through her shirt one time. I called a girl a whore because my boyfriend tried to sleep with her. I was part of a group that ostracized two girls so badly that the only people they could rely on in the school was each other, then called them lesbians because they were so close. Looking back, I hate it. I hate more than anything what I did to other people. I still, about a decade later, have a hard time being close to my husband, and any male for that matter, because of what one teenage boy did to me. I wake up almost every morning thinking of the girls that I tormented, and watched tormented. I don’t see them how they could be now. I see flashes of two girls at 12 years old. Another girl at 15, running away after my friends and I said something particularly awful. A 16 year old crying in the locker room, while I lowered my eyes, not wanted to get involved. I hope, if nothing else, your blog gets people involved. What you are doing is amazing. I have so much respect for what you are trying to accomplish. Your blog is the first that has let me feel comfortable thinking about every aspect of the sexual bullying I have seen/experienced over the years. Thank you so much for this project— it resonates with me on so many levels. In 6th grade, I was the awkward girl sitting by myself at lunch and having crushes from afar, but I still feel so, so much empathy for you, and for how really hard being an adolescent is, in so many ways. The older I get, the more I realize that the girls I idolized, envied, or despised in middle school are people who were going through their own issues, who I might have really liked if I’d gotten to know them.
PS— thank you also for prompting me to go back to some of my old journals (I’ve been posting entries on my blog). It’s great to see my old feelings, perspectives, thoughts on friends and boys, with the fresh eyes of the older and wiser 27 year old me. I just read every diary entry here and it all could have been ripped right from my 7th-8th grade diary. I am a woman in my 30’s now, happily married, gainfully employed - and sometimes when I can’t fall asleep at night, I think back to some of these embarrassing and hurtful memories. They really did change me and maybe even influenced future poor decisions. I hope you keep up with the entries. I would like to think that if I had read someone else’s experiences at age 13, I may have been able to change my course, redirect my energy.
This [diary] rings so many bells. At about the same age, I had a ‘boyfriend’. He and his friends came round one evening to play in the garden. We kissed once, closed mouths. Then we all played strip spin the bottle. I was not the only one that (reluctantly) took clothes off, but when they relayed the story at school, I was the one that got the hassle for it. People would sing the stripping tune at me and ask me to take my shirt off. It was hell, and I couldn’t ask for help because I was humiliated. I haven’t thought about it in a long time. I was considered a slut for ages. But I didn’t have sex ‘til I was 20. Go figure. I had some good times growing up, but this wasn’t one of them. Thanks for this, anyway. You’re brave to post your diary, and ten-year-old me feels a lot less alone.
For me, it was less the comments from my peers and more those of my mother that did the real damage.10/8/2019
This is such a good idea. It’s killing me a little to read your diary entries but it’s also so important that this get out there. I remember the casual ‘slut’ comments in middle school and high school and how its use at a well-chosen moment could just destroy the girl being targeted. For me, though, it was less the comments from my peers and more those of my mother that did the real damage. It got better, but damn I wish someone had told me it would. You are doing an awesome thing.
I’m 31 now and it’s crazy how similar the entries in your diary are to mine, however, I think mine would actually be from 8th and 9th grades…I guess I was a bit… “behind.” Still, the fact that I, and apparently a lot of other women, experienced this bizarre drama-trauma throughout key emotional and sexual developmental years is striking. If I were to give any young women who are currently experiencing similar situations at the present time any advice at all, it would be to find out who YOU are; and to realize who you are DOES NOT depend on how others see you whether it be the boy you like, his friends, other girls in your class, or even your best friend(s). Don’t be afraid to find out who you are and who you want to be, and become that woman. That woman, you will find, is absolutely amazing.
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