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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.
I remember everything perfectly. It was the beginning of my 6th grade school year. I was getting used to everything, and had moved far away from all my friends - we lost touch easily. At first, it was my classmates in Math. It was a whole group. I remember some names: Dominique, Serenity, Trey, and that's it. I got called skank, whore, slut, but then... he called me fat. I don't know why this one hit me so hard. It may have been from being so self-conscious of my weight. But from that moment on, I began my horrible path down the bulimic road. It's painful, and nobody should have to go through it. My second experience was in 7th grade, I was obsessed with the cello. And when I was practicing in the music room, Dominique walked in. He said he needed to talk to me. I probably looked like a demon, waiting to tear his throat out. At first, I was comfortable, a bit uneasy, but fine really. He said he was sorry for all the shit he did to me, and wanted to be friends. I accepted, because I needed that. I WANTED that. But later on, he attempted to sexually assault me. My parents were very quiet about sex and condoms, and what I should do - or how I would know. I knew a few things, but I hadn't been properly educated. He once pushed me into a stall and put his hands up my shirt and down my pants. From this point on, I was ashamed of myself. I BLAMED myself. I started cutting with my mom's sewing scissors or something - but they were very sharp. I told myself I deserved this and became very depressed. What truly helped me was Carson. (It's a girl.) She became my friend when no one else would be. She supported me, and comforted me. I love her so much :) And I got over my depression and bulimia. Please don't let anyone get you down, you're perfect and amazing in every way.
Hi, my name is Katherine, I am 15 and from Canada. I’d like to start by thanking you, Miss Lindin, for everything you are doing for us and for creating this ‘community’ for girls and sometimes even boys, like us, where we can share and understand each other’s experiences and learn for them, and to finally be able to speak about it. Before reading The UnSlut Project I had never really given a thought to the concept of slut shaming. I don’t think I had ever heard of it either. It made me think twice about what I said to others, especially girls, who are most affected by this. As our body changes we sometimes feel vulnerable or powerless towards what happens to us, and a lot of times our confidences decreases immensely and self-consciousness takes over our lives. I had never been a target for bullies. If you would’ve told me last year that I would get bullied I would not have believed you. I had the reputation of a person not to be messed with, but not in a bad way. I just did not let people screw with me or my life and I wasn’t shy to tell you if you did something wrong or if I disagreed with you and if you stepped over the line you would earn a very polite version of go to hell, I do not need people like you in my life. I was very proud of that reputation. Last February, I had my first boyfriend ever. I had never been kissed and the most intimate thing I had ever done with a boy was hold hands… in kindergarten. I did have a couple of friends that were boys though and they were a funny bunch. Back to the point, I had my first boyfriend, and he was wonderful. Very romantic and funny and kind. I think I really did love him. The only thing I did not like was that he smoked pot. Don’t get me wrong I’m not against it; it’s just that I’d rather he did not smoke. The first weeks were wonderful. We shared half of our second semester classes, which is how we met, so we spent almost all day together. Now fast forward to the middle of March. I was leaving on a trip to Scotland and then England, which I had signed up for the year before with a few of my friends. 40 students were selected to go, accompanied by 5 teachers and we were to leave 2 days before March break and come back 2 days before school started again. The trip was to last 9 days. Before I left, I went to say goodbye to my boyfriend, let’s call him Alex, and left for the airport. He promised me he would Skype with me every night and every morning, which he did. The trip was wonderful, it had been my dream to go since I loved and still love English history. But although I was living my dream all I could think about was my boyfriend at home, whom I missed a whole lot. Boy, was I happy to come home. I saw him at school that Monday and I couldn’t have been happier. Only that happiness did not last. The next day I learned that the day before I came back he had slept with some other girl, whom everyone considered the school whore. Honestly, I had talked to her a few times and she was really nice. Only she was very open about what she liked in bed, but who cares. Anyways I learned from my friends, who had been told by the girl in question that I had been cheated on. I was heartbroken and I felt sick. Alex wasn’t saying anything and I couldn’t believe it. I felt like my whole world came crashing down on me faster than I could get cover. The next day, I heard tons of people whispering about what happened and some people even came to me and told me to not worry because ‘they were on my side’. What did that mean? There were sides? The whole situation went out of control and very soon the girl Alex had slept with started getting bullied. ‘Slut’. ‘Whore’. ‘Bitch’. You name it they were all thrown her way. People made it their duty to hate on her in revenge for what had been done to me. I did not like it and honestly, she had and still has the right to do whatever the hell she wants with her body and even if she went and f**cked with a thousand men that wouldn’t have been anybody’s goddamn business. After about a week, of which that girl was absent for half because of the situation, she changed schools because the bullies were too much. Now she is happy and she has a girlfriend and they’re really cute together. I haven’t had the guts to talk to her and apologize for what happened, but that doesn’t matter now. She is happy. The bullying might have stopped there for her, but it only started for me. I tried to remain friends with my ex; that’s what we were before dating and it was good. At the end of March I met my current boyfriend and we started dating at the end of April. Alex got a girlfriend too. Everything was fine and we still talked until the end of school. One teacher asked me on the last day if I knew how to reach him so he could come by and do some make-up project so he wouldn’t fail his English class. When I texted him he started calling me a dumb bitch and annoying and other things which kinda hurt. He’d never really talked to me that way before. My boyfriend, Ben, saw that I was upset about it and asked Alex why he did this. That’s when Alex started saying I was a whore and a slut and a bunch of other mean things. He threatened to beat us up, me and Ben, if he ever saw us in town. The whole summer went by with no word of them which we were really happy about. Until school started this September. The first incident was when Alex’s girlfriend, Mary, tried to push him into me in the hall. I didn’t think much of it; it was just some stupid thing. Then on the second day as they walked past my locker I heard them say: ‘Oh, look! There’s the ugly fat bitch.’ For the rest of the week every time I happened to cross them in the hall, which is very easy because our school is shaped like a square, the called out insults at me. ‘Bitch’. ‘Fat f**k’. ‘Whore’. The next week I got an appointment with the principal. She told me she would talk about it with the educators, but they didn’t do anything. I told my parents and they said it was really not okay. That same night Alex texted me I was a ‘F**king bitch go check yourself at the veterinary’ or something like that. My parents then texted him and told him they would press charges. I don’t where you’re from, but here that kind of bullying is considered harassment and it is NOT okay! To this day they haven’t dared to talk to me. I know that probably some of you have gone through worse, but what happened to me still hurt. I just want to say that I love every one of you who wrote their story on here and have given me the courage to share mine. Thank you. Stay golden, my friends. - Katherine Roy
Boys are expected to be "sexperts" from the start. Even if the boy and girl are both virgins, the boy is expected to magically know what he is doing. Many times I saw girls say a boy was bad in bed or had a small dick. This seemed as if it was meant to invalidate the sex as if it never happened. I'm specifically thinking of one girl in particular who did that multiple times in different social group, who, after seeing you speak on TV and having a think about it, I now think may have just been her avoiding being labeled a slut - i.e. How can I be a slut if I've never enjoyed any of it? Which seemed to work, looking back on it now. I know that one of the definitive reasons the boys "slut" shame is because they want all the girls to be virgins for the obvious reason. If a girl is a virgin, she has no experience to compare the boys' performance with, and thus is less likely to be critical (it's a giant emotional deal for boys). Even I felt more draw to girls with little sexual experience for that reason, while at the same time finding it counter productive that other boys would alienate the promiscuous girls, cause, they were the ones most likely to put out, which tends to be the aim of the game as a young teenage male (and teenage females from what I've been told since). As you were saying about girls "slut" shaming each other to draw attention away from themselves, I think the boys do the same to each other about performance and especially amount of experience. The boys call the girls sluts and the girls call the boys virgins. I just can't see how how sexually bullying against girls can be solved without equally tackling sexual bullying against boys as the two sides seem to feed into each other. If we could get rid of the stereotypes that girls are supposed to be chaste virgins and boys are supposed to be highly experienced sex gods, I think the bullying would just lose its reason and simply stop. I mean, if she is not ashamed to have sex, she has no reason to say "he's got a small dick", thus he has no reason to say "she is just loose", so her friends don't need to say... and so on all around the school. - Chris
This all happened when I was 17 and was a senior in high school. It was about a month into my senior year when all of the "popular" seniors got together and threw a Senior Party. Me and my 3 best friends all attended this party together. There was, of course, A LOT of alcohol. Everyone there had been drinking. Me and one of the girls decided to go off on our own and hang out. We drank a little (not too much, we were by no means drunk). Some at the guys at the party were hitting on us and we even flirted back a little here and there. The boys kept asking us to do things to them and were being really pushy. Eventually me and her went to my car to go call my mom and ask her to pick us up since we had been drinking and didn't need to drive. There were 5 other guys that went out to their car, which was right behind mine. We didn't even associate with them at all. When we looked for my phone in the car we realized that it wasn't in there. About an hour after trying to find my phone my mom and dad showed up and they were really angry at me. They took me home and called the other girls' parents to come and get them too. Apparently one of the people at the party called my mom and told her that we were super drunk and that we were sleeping with all kinds of guys. (Which by no means was true. We hadn't even kissed anyone!) I explained to my mom that none of this was true and that all of those kids were just bullies because they were so "popular". She believed me and supported me 100%. The next day at school as soon as I walked in I saw all of the stares and whispering. I even saw a couple of guys making really inappropriate gestures toward me. When I saw my friend that I was at the party with, I ran up to her and she was crying. She explained to me what all of the people were saying about us. Calling us sluts, hoes, whores, and everything else in the book. They said that we had a train run on us by 5 different guys at one time... I was horrified. We ran straight into the bathroom and cried together. When we got out of the bathroom we saw our other 2 best friends that we attended the party with and they looked at us like we were completely crazy and made a big scene about how they didn't want to be seen associating with the biggest sluts in school. I was so upset that I called my mom and told her what was going on, she was so angry she came up to the school. All of those boys that were telling people that we did things to them denied it to the principal. I never wanted to go to school again. I started skipping class just to avoid all of them. Things eventually got a little better for the two of us.. Our friends apologized and even started sticking up for us, along with a few other people. I met a guy that treated me like a queen. He helped me get through all of that and always stood up for me even though he didn't know me very well at the time. He knew about all of the rumors but he still gave me a chance and never listened to anything disgusting anyone ever said about me. 4 years later, he and I are married and have a beautiful son! - Brooke
Towards the end of my senior year my friends and I started partying. We were just trying to have fun, most of us had never even drank before. It started out all fun and games, just making memories that could last forever. We all graduated together and partied even more, but enough background story. One night I ended up losing my virginity and it was exciting and sad altogether. So I told my mom and went and got on birth control. Well my best friend Jon and I had been fighting. He stopped talking to me. He and I being best friends since sophomore year, I took it hard. We'd almost dated a few months prior. Well I went out and slept with 3 more guys within 2 months, just trying to have fun. Well one night my friends and I were having a group call and out of nowhere Jon (my ex best friend) called me a whore on the phone, and I just hung up the phone. Just taking in the concept of someone I used to be so close to calling me something I never wanted to become hurt. I cried every day for a while. The rest of my friends never said anything. They didn't comfort me or say, "He didn't mean it" or "It's not true." They never said one thing to me for months. I felt betrayed and lost. I felt like every one of them thought I was a whore. He even tweeted about me that same night, calling me a whore and a slut. Telling me I probably couldn't even name all the guys I'd slept with or that I couldn't count them on my fingers. Every comment filled my heart with more and more sadness. And because this town is small everyone saw the comments being made on Twitter and everyone knows what happened. Rumors about me to this day still go around. People still ask about me or bring it up when I walk by and it's been a year. Ever since then when I hang out with my friends I feel like they still think I'm a whore and that they talk about me behind my back. Nothing is the same anymore. But your story and your project has filled me with happiness. To know that others have experienced similar things and that someone cares enough to start a project that helps other girls so they don't have to be alone like I was and is trying to change the way people define each other means so much. You, Emily, are my personal hero and you have forever impacted the way I think about myself as a person. Thank you for just being you and sharing your story with the world and starting this amazing project. Much love for The UnSlut Project and thank you for reading my story. - Shania
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'm from Raleigh, NC. Freshman year I was in marching band. I was the only girl in the saxophone section and it sucked. Fast-forward toward the end of first semester. I'm sitting on the floor in the band storage room minding my own business, when a boy named John walks up in front of me and starts Magic Mike air humping his junk in my face. Then another boy joined in. His name was Rasheed. While they were doing this I kept telling them to leave me alone. Then I tried to kick them away. One of them laughed when I stood up. John said, "She's not going to do anything." I was so upset I screamed at them as I got to the door. I grabbed my things and ran out to avoid the confused looks I was getting from the other students. When I got home I told my parents and my mom call both of their parents. John's mom told my mom that I was lying and that her son would never do that. She called back after calling other band kids and asking their side of the story, which were all her son's friends, so they lied for him. Then John's mom called back telling my mom what the other kids said. When my mom called Rasheed's mom, she didn't even question it and she confronted her son. The next day at school every single band student had found out John's version of the story and they were alienating, "slut" shaming, bullying, and calling me a liar. Some people even confronted me and called me these things to my face. They would text me repeatedly the same word, calling me "thirsty." Meanwhile John would send me overly sexual texts asking me to do things that were degrading and belittling.
Things only got worse as it progressed to sophomore year. My instrument was being tampered with almost bi-weekly, they stole my personal items like scarves and jackets that people knew I owned, or they'd destroy my stuff. The band director made an effort of saying going into sophomore year that he didn't care what was going on, but it wasn't going to happen during his band stuff. Though most of the time it felt like he was either making an example of me or trying to punish me. He blamed me for having a maggot in my mouthpiece... When I took it to a professional shop they looked at my case and instrument and told me it was impossible and that it had to have been tampered with. But the worst part happened when my test anxiety evolved. First my hands would shake or I'd get a nervous stomach. Soon after I started having anxiety/panic attacks, at least two every week. I remember each one I had. I remember at one point blaming myself, crying myself to sleep if I was lucky to get sleep, having nightmares every night without fail, insomnia, waking up with red, irritated, puffy eyes and thinking sometimes to myself that I wanted to disappear or be home schooled. Within that time I was diagnosed with anxiety and medicated. The summer going into junior year my mom and my principal, who was sick of hearing my name so often, managed to get me transferred to another school. The most shocking thing that happened was when I went through psychological re-evaluation (which is a common thing for kids with ADD/ADHD). The new doctor diagnosed me with anxiety, PTSD, and insomnia along with having trust issues. When I found out, I was the idiot, thinking, 'Oh my gosh, it was that bad on my mental health,' in an awestruck way. This upcoming year I will be a senior in high school and when I think back on those two years of torture it really shaped my final decision on what I want to do when I get older. 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.
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
Everyone believes them and that's it. Period. There's no asking me. My answer doesn't matter.10/23/2019
During my whole high school career I had tried to avoid being "that" girl. The girl who puts out easily,who everyone hates because of how many guys she talks to and for some reason people think she has slept with everyone. Going into my junior year of high school, I started to go out and become more social. The first week of the school year I had gone out and got a little bit drunk for the first time. One of the guys there came up and started talking to me and asked if I wanted to go to his car. At the time I didn't know that that meant he wanted to do other things so I agreed. While sitting in his car I started to get sleepy and close my eyes. All of a sudden I felt him get on top of me and start kissing me and touching me. I remember that I didn't really know what was going on because I wasn't completely sober. Fortunately, he did not force me into sexual intercourse. The Monday back after that weekend, a particular guy in my grade who was there at the party and who I think at the time liked me, told everyone what had happened between me and the other guy. I have never felt so ashamed of myself while walking to my other class while this guy and a group of other guys looked and even pointed at me. It was the worst feeling ever. After that time I had gone out with other guys and it was a one time kind of thing, but they had always encouraged the idea of us having sex. I was still a virgin and they knew that. Of course I would say no, and they wouldn't force me into anything, but after a couple of days, there would be talk that I did have sex with them. To me, it was incredibly unfair. I had tried so hard not to give them what they wanted but in the end it was their word over mine. I also felt slut shamed because I didn't do what they wanted me to do, and for that they said that I did do these things. After a while I finally found a guy that I respected and I felt he respected me. We weren't going out for a long time when I decided, at the age of 18, to have sex with him. It was something I chose to do. I knew we weren't in love but we respected each other and that was more important to me. Before having sex, I knew that he heard the rumours of me sleeping with other guys, but I had told him that I was a virgin because that was the truth. When having sex, I didn't really act like the stereotypical "virgin". I wasn't scared of the act and I felt ready for it. After that we stopped talking to each other and I had found out that he had said that he didn't believe I was a virgin, especially after us having sex. It was another moment where I couldn't believe what was going on. Because these other guys just say that I had sex with them, everyone believes them and that's it. Period. There's no asking me. My answer doesn't matter. I want this to stop because it is very unfair that I get blamed and I even feel bad for things that I didn't do! It is an unjust world where in this specific topic, the girls are to blame. - Daniella
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 was 13 I moved from Massachusetts to New Hampshire and for some reason it was made very clear from day one that I was unwelcome by everyone, especially the girls. Suddenly boys started noticing me and they would ask me out, which had never happened before because I was always known as the "bookworm" and for some reason the term "freak" started circulating the school. I was fighting off girls everyday for no reason and one got pissed when I won the fight and said, "It doesn't matter, everyone knows you are a stupid slut anyway." I never understood why she said that because at that point I had never even been kissed by a boy and she didn't know me anyway. That is when the boys started asking me out and I didn't put two and two together until later. It started getting to the point where I was having to fight off being groped in the hallway and three girls at once (because I had no trouble with two, thanks to my father teaching me how to fight, but that is also when I got myself into martial arts). It got so bad with the slut remarks that I went to my counselor and told her I was very depressed and couldn't take much more. Unbeknownst to me right across the way was another school, but it looked like a house, and it was a boys' school but it did have one other girl in it, and I guess it was supposed to be for the kids who had trouble in school for one reason or another. The other girl and I became best friends on day 1 and still are to this day. Unfortunately we had a few friends die for different reasons and one of them was a suicide. The person who had killed himself actually lived with me for a little while and my parents to help him out, because him and his parents were not getting along. They were like my dad and considered the school a failure and both referred to it as a school for "sweat hogs". A few days after he killed himself and after the funeral a bunch of us got together at his parents house and had a party in his honor. Let's just say his dad didn't care we were underage and we did drink and smoke at the time. There was a boy there I didn't know very well but I always had a crush on, but he was with one of the girls who had bullied me beyond belief when I was at my regular high school. He motioned for me to sit on his lap and before I did I asked him, "What about Ellen?" and he had told me they had broken up and I told him thank goodness and did sit on his lap. That night we all told stories about our friend and try to remember the good times and the whole time he was stroking my hair and a few times when tears came to my eyes he wiped them away so gently and I guess I just got swept up in it all. I hadn't even thought about a ride home and because I had been drinking and smoking I did not want to call my parents and he offered me a ride home. To be honest I wasn't really ready to go home, especially when he offered for us to sit and talk at this very romantic spot that everyone went to when they wanted to chat or do other things. We talked for a little while and he was holding my hand and stroking my face and I guess I got caught up in the attention because things were not great at my home, and anyway we made love in the car. I thought it was special and I waited for him to call me but I knew there would be another party celebrating our friend the next day at his girlfriend's house and I knew he would be there. We were all having fun, there was loud music and we were drinking... again... and I remember looking for him all night waiting for him to show up. All of a sudden the room went quiet because someone had turned off the music. I turned my head like everyone else did to see why and it was Ellen! I just remember my heart sinking because she was the one who had started the "slut" rumor and she had tried to fight me and when she lost she would bring another girl with her and then another girl until I couldn't fight so many. She would trap me in the ladies room and call me a whore when I was at the other high school, amongst other things, and to be honest I only had a few friends at this party and the rest of them I did not know and there must have been at least 50 people there. Suddenly my eyes caught the boy I was with the other night standing on the stairs, but he was looking down at the ground. Then she started talking to me so everyone's heads whipped around and were staring at me. I will never forget what she said to this day. I should probably mention that I made the mistake of telling my best friend's friend what had happened with him and I just had a feeling it was a bad idea. It turns out she was Ellen's best friend. Ellen began with, "I heard you are telling everyone that you fucked my boyfriend." Believe me that is not how I worded it to the girl and my best friend, who had been there, since it was her house, since if you have been paying attention there was a reason why it was very special to me. She continued on with the words, "Why on earth would he waste his time with an ugly, disgusting, repulsive, scumbag tramp and slut like you when he has someone like me?" I remember turning to look over at him my eyes pleading for something to come out of his mouth in my defense, and he was still looking at the floor. My best friend was somewhere else in the house or I know she would have said something, so I was pretty much on my own with all these people staring at me and I felt like I had been used, and with everything she had called me I felt like nothing and a fool. Then my eyes caught the girl who I had told and she had a smirk on her face. I couldn't take it because I was so humiliated in front of so many people. I ran up the stairs into the main level of the house and found the master bathroom. I looked through the cabinet for any kind of pills I could take because I knew this girl's mother was on things and I found a bottle of something that said "Take one each night for sleep." From my estimate the bottle was almost full. I took the bottle and put it in my pocket and went into the kitchen and drank as many beers as I could fit into my stomach as fast as I could. I went looking for my best friend but I could not find her. I then began looking through the kitchen drawers for a sharp knife and I saw the kitchen block and grabbed a big knife from there. I went back into the master bathroom and with the beer that was in my hand I took the bottle of pills and began running the cold water in the sink and a slit both my wrists. I then went through the other door that went straight into the girl who owned the house's parents' bedroom and I crawled under their bed. Darkness came pretty quickly and I do remember thinking, thank goodness this will all be over. When I came to in the hospital the doctor told me he had no idea how I had survived. I guess my friend went looking for me and found one of my feet sticking out from under the bed. When she told someone they all panicked and I guess instead of calling 911 they threw me into the back of someone's truck and dumped me on my parents' lawn and took off. They would not let my friend call 911 so she went into the back of the truck and when they dumped me on the lawn she jumped out and began punching and kicking my parents' door and pointed to me on the lawn. I guess the only thing that really saved me was that I didn't manage to cut into my wrists deep enough, so they bled very slowly, but the doctors still said they did not understand how I lived between the pills and the alcohol and my wrists, because they drove right past the hospital to dump me on my parents' lawn. The doctor told me I must have had a guardian angel and at the time I remember laughing and thinking that if I had I would have died. I was in the hospital for a long time between healing and the psychiatric part of it but to this day it still hurts. No one said anything when I went back to my new school but the people who were there, there was only a few of them at the party and those were the ones that were my friends. I just remember to this day the names she called me and all the things she did to me and more than anything that when I looked over to plead with him to help me, he couldn't even look at me or anyone else in the eye. I am sharing this because I regret not being stronger to this day and I don't want this to ever happen to anyone else. I also hope if anything like this does happen to someone else that they don't make the same mistake I did and they do what I should have done and stand up for themselves right when it all starts like I tried to do when I was at the regular high school. When it became too much I feel a little bit like I ran away from the problem when I switched schools but that did help me because there was only 38 of us in the school and none of them treated me like that. I let them call me names and I let it circulate that I was a slut when I wasn't and now, I would have found a way to be a smart ass and own it even if it wasn't true, just to make them shocked and have to figure out something else to call me or leave me alone. I can't say for sure that would have worked or if anything would have worked, and I can't say I don't feel like I ran away when I changed schools but I can say I gave her too much power by doing what I did that night and I bet to this day she doesn't even remember any of it or even me, but I can say I remember her name and I will never forget it. I let the word "slut" make me do one of the most stupid things in my life and I let that simple little word wreck me for a long time. All it is is a word and even if it had been true I should have never let it have the power that it did and neither should anyone else. Thank you for listening to anyone who has read this to the end. - Calissta
I forgive the people who were unkind to me. I forgive the people who judged and still judge me.10/21/2019
12th May 2013. The day I woke up naked in an unfamiliar bed with a cut on my forehead and an unfamiliar pain in between my thighs. I feel weird sharing this story because no one has never believed me before and I have always held myself accountable for what happened to me. I was in year 13, an outstanding student, a prefect and a virgin. I did live a secret life and that was the fact that I was drinking a lot. To the extent of me blacking out. But I never ever let people know just how dependent I was and still am with alcohol. Because I was done with my A level History exam, I thought it was a good idea to go hang out with my friend from school. All I remember from that evening is getting tipsy and laying my head down "for a minute to rest". I remember him laughing saying he was the better drinker. I woke up naked. And my whole body hurt. I wore my clothes and walked out of the room to find my "friend" sprawled out on the couch in his pair of blue boxers. I had a sense of strong foreboding. I had had sex. Unconsensual sex. He had had sex with me while I was passed out or close to. I was disgusted. I remember asking him what the hell had happened and he said nothing. I asked why I was naked. He told me he had tried to sober me up by putting me in the shower. I left it at that and went home but noticing that I was bleeding, went to the pharmacy and bought the morning after pill. I was ashamed of myself. I didn't know who to tell. I thought I had brought it on myself by drinking beyond my limit. But again, he was my friend. I should have been able to trust him, right? Nevertheless I didn't go to school the next day because I was in pain and full of self loathing. I wish I had because I doubt he would have shamed me the way he did that day. My best friend called and told me that he was going around telling people that "he hit it first" and that I was screaming for him and that I was tight and all other vulgarities. I remember telling her he had raped me but her brushing it off like it was nothing. It turns out that as I was passed out and naked he had called up his best friend to come over. His best friend was telling everyone what I looked like naked. It was all too much for me. I lost friends and the boys all slut shamed me. No one believed me. I remember retreating into myself and hating myself because I felt that that precious part of me was stolen. I had brought it on myself, or so everyone seemed to think. I had gone to his house with the intention of having sex. It's two years now but the pain of being alone in this has never left. I recently told my mom and she's been helping me through it. I have gone to counseling but it still doesn't remove the fact that because I was raped by definition, due to lack of valid consent (drunken consent is not consent). I have had a problem taking sex seriously. I started having more sex after the pain never left because I felt I was worthless and my body was nothing. After all everyone believed I was a slut and that I had brought it on myself. It is only recently that I met a guy who even though is not in my life that way anymore, showed me that I should not drink to be intimate, and he is the first guy I have been with sober and it felt alright. I am consciously working towards respecting my body more and seeing that even though I was raped and slut shamed for it, I do not help myself any more by shaming myself, too. I have forgiven that boy. I have forgiven myself. I forgive the people who were unkind to me. I forgive the people who judged and still judge me. And I am kind to those who are slut shamed because I know how one misgiving on your part as a girl can lead to everyone being nasty to you. - Mutesi
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
When I was in high school I was called a slut because I told my boyfriend at the time "no." That Monday, I was a "slut" and had slept with the entire football team. I was a virgin at the time. A guy I went to school with found out where I lived and broke into my house and raped me when I was 15 years old. After that, I would carve the word "slut" into my arm. My family also calls me a slut because I want to wear short skirts, swim suits, or shorts. I try to laugh it off but it is impossible. I have such self esteem issues it's not funny. I cut myself because my own family calls me a slut and a whore. They have gone so far as to ask what corner I was working. I am 21 years old with a son and I am still getting called a slut. - Candace Stoneking
I lost my best friend at a very early age due to slut shaming. My best friend was raped while drunk at my house and I had to move that year. The boys then bullied my best friend behind my back until she killed herself. To Nancy Meogeout, I am so sorry I had to move at 13 and abandon you. I will never forgive them or myself. Not only did the boy get away with it, he thrives now. What do you suggest to honor this woman who was only 20 at her death? - Jaye
I was slut shamed when I was 13-15 years old. I am now 35. I overcame it. When I was 13, I wanted to be liked because I didn't get the attention from my parents that I needed. A boy acted like he liked me and talked me into meeting him. When I meet him he had his best friend there and talked me into sleeping with both of them. After that the entire group slut shamed me. I was never the same. I became very depressed and lost many friends. Eventually I became very promiscuous, trying to prove to myself that I wasn't a slut but that I could be sexual and it wasn't a bad thing. I love what you are doing! I have 3 daughters and I don't want what happened to me to happen to them. - Regina
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 went to enrollment for a community college and sat next to a table of white boys wearing black jackets. None of these boys had ever met; they were all from different cities and even states. I instantly felt uncomfortable to be anywhere near them and didn't understand why. As we were going through the student handbook, the presenter lectured about rape and how 'no' means no. She informed us that a university here in Kansas is currently investigating over 40 rape allegations. When she asked the group if a short skirt meant 'yes', the round table of white boys immediately said yes and joked about it amongst themselves. Even if they were kidding, it was completely disgusting and very unnerving. I thought my prejudgment was silly; I didn't know these boys and I'm not one to expect the worst of people. This is not acceptable, even as a joke. - Dominique
The past two days I have felt belittled by peers because of my intolerance of "slut" shaming. I go to an all-girls Catholic school, which is very conservative. I am enrolled in a course called "Catholic ethics." In this course we talk about the pros and cons of many controversial subjects. The subjects we discuss include the death penalty, abortion, gender, sexuality, etc. Yesterday my teacher brought up the subject of glorifying abusive relationships, specifically she was talking about "50 Shades of Grey." Everyone in my class is a senior in high school and is 18 years old or will be turning 18 by the end of the year. Most people have either read the books or seen the movie. Recently a large amount of girls at my school got in a lot of trouble for going to a party called "CEOs and office hoes." Personally I was not in attendance. Although I didn't go many of my friends in my ethics class went and got in trouble by the school. My ethics teacher brought this party up in class and began to talk about how as young women we must love ourselves, and it does not look like we love ourselves when we dress as an "office hoe." She also began to speak about a girl who prostituted her body to pay for college and she didn't want it to happen to us. She also said something along the lines of, "If you go around having sex you don't love yourself." She also began to speak about how awful the party, "50 Shades of Grey," and meaningless sex was. Many of the girls in the class were not virgins, loved 50 Shades of Grey, or went to the party. The teacher's initial point about glorifying abusive relationships was valid, however other points were not okay. I am not a virgin, and I like "50 Shades of Grey," and when she spoke she made me feel ashamed of who I was and what I liked. I'm 18 years old and I have made my own decisions and she made me feel lesser than other people who waited to have sex. She made many girls in my class feel uncomfortable and ashamed because they attended the party even though they had fun. A lot of girls in the class began to feel ashamed for decisions they made that they previously didn't feel shame about (me included). After she spoke I shot my hand up and when I was called on I said something along the lines of, "'Slut' shaming is a real thing and just because you have sex doesn't mean you don't love your self. I'm sure many girls in this room feel ashamed because they went to that party and are not virgins. Even though they made decisions that you don't agree with, doesn't mean they are bad people." Then the teacher started to apologize and back track, talking about how "CEOs and office hoes" glorifies "50 Shades of Grey" and how people shouldn't strive for abusive relationships and how she wants us all to be safe. After she said this, many girls in my class spoke up and I felt personally attacked after I was vulnerable and shared my true opinion. I was told that I was in the wrong, I was offensive, the teacher did nothing wrong, "slut" shaming doesn't even apply, people make the decision to have sex and they have to deal with the repercussions of it, I was rude, and my personal favorite: "Why did you bring this up, it's not guys' fault for doing the things if we dress like office hoes." Reminder, this is an ALL GIRLS school. Young females reacted this way when another girl (me) brought up a prominent issue that all girls should be aware of. After we talked about that in class, girls began to talk outside of class and make statements along these lines: it's so slutty having sex, you shouldn't have casual sex, did you hear she got herpes from doing oral, she is such a dirty virgin, she doesn't even count as a virgin, only really slutty girls give head, ew I can't believe people think it's okay to have one night stands in high school. When I heard these things I felt awful, I started to cry and couldn't believe what was being said after I tried to stand up for what I believed in. I felt so ashamed for my beliefs and my actions until I realized that I was being "slut" shamed for talking about "slut" shaming at an all girls school. The irony of the situation has become so frustrating and it's come to the point where I can only talk about this with a few girls to avoid getting attacked. I think this needs to be addressed, I am afraid to say something again, and so many girls are so naive about the situation that it worries me. Education about "slut" shaming needs to become more clear and accessible to young women, and I want to help spread awareness about such an important issue. - Erin A.
I have always been a very sexual person, ever since my mom first told me about sex (when I was in kindergarten). My mom's one of those spiritual, earthy, I guess you could say hippie moms. She protested the Vietnam war and all that jazz. So she was very open when it came to sex. It was a natural, beautiful thing that should be done all the time. I was raised that it was healthy to have sex a lot, as long as you were protected. So when I was 14 I experienced foreplay for the first time. Rumors started to go all around town, I live in a small town by the way, about how "Katie got fisted!" Or "He stuck his entire fist up her!" I cried and cried, but didn't want to tell my mom because, well, I was 14 and I was shy and embarrassed. Now the rumors weren't true, but as I gradually progressed so did they. I had experienced lust and I wanted more. I lost my virginity when I turned 15. The big time word for slut in our town at the time was, "trout," and of course since my last name started with a 'T,' I had the nickname, "Katie trout." Still to this day (I am almost 21 now) people will ask me if my last name is trout. I started to dabble in drugs. First marijuana, then ecstasy, followed by cocaine. When I turned 16 I went to a rehab/behavioral center called Provo Canyon School for 10 months. Every time I got to go on a visit with my family I would text this guy that I had a crush on. Now, having just turned 17, and having been locked in an all girls facility for 10 months, I was dying for some male attention but I had a bad feeling. I get a phone call from this kid at 3am saying, "Hey I'm right down the street, wanna smoke a bowl?" So I walked down there and he was belligerently drunk. He asked if I wanted to have sex and only having had sex a few times, I declined. So he grabbed me and threw me in a bent over position. I tried to get up but he kept throwing my head down and it kept hitting a concrete brick. So I gave up. I got anal raped that night. After that my drug use spiraled out of control. I began to smoke methamphetamines daily just to forget what had happened. How I was violated. At this point I was 18. I went to another rehab/mental hospital. What they call dual diagnosis programs. I have bipolar and severe PTSD, and was self medicating with the crystal meth. Eventually I got out and ended up going to an amazing high school called North County Academy, which is basically a school for kids on probation or with severe mood problems or drug programs. I graduated in 2013, ASB president, a peer mentor, prom queen, and I established the first ever prom at the school. One day I decided, since I was doing so well and I was so stable, to contact my rapist and confront him. He told me that I was a dirty slut and I had wanted it and, "Go back to the mental hospital, Katie trout." That night I relapsed. I went to one more rehab, who referred me to my therapist whom I have now. She is truly my lifesaver. Now I am 20 years old in a stable relationship with the man I am absolutely in love with, I go to a outpatient drug program, I go to college, and I work at a residential drug rehab as an intern so that I can get my drug and alcohol counseling certificate. I don't believe in calling women sluts. Because we just don't know what goes on behind closed doors. We can't experience their lives, their pain, their pleasure. So might as well let them live the way they are going to, all judgment aside. - Katie Traugh
Nearly every day of my life, I was a freak. I am/was super tall, I tower over everybody and scare people without meaning to. They say I don't scare them, but then they distance themselves and suddenly I'm alone. That also gained me some enemies, because I used to be used as a shield, someone people could go to if they had a problem with somebody. I dealt with them as nicely as I could, but even then they took everything I said the wrong way. I even angered my used-to-be-best friend, and that's when it started. She had more than half of the whole grade as her groupies, and she spread rumours. They reached my friends, and suddenly they didn't want to be around the clumsy monster. She called me a slut and a few other choice words one day. It's stuck with me ever since. Every time I wear a dress, skirt, tank top, etc. I hear the girl's voice in my head whispering that one word. I wear huge sweaters and jeans, even in the summer, because if I don't I feel like I'm naked, like I have no more armour. Because of that one, small word. My life had been downhill from there, but this year I've noticed I'm climbing back up the slope. I've worn a T-shirt without a sweater for the first time in nearly two years. Small, I know. Laughable, okay. But it's huge for me. Slut shaming needs to stop. It doesn't matter what clothes someone wears, how much makeup they put on, their sexuality, or how many people they sleep with. Because that one little word can ruin a good portion of someone's life.
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