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When I was eleven, I understood sex, I had a group of friends who also understood it and if my classmates who didn't understand it, I was the one who explained it to them. (My name is Naomi.) I explained BDSM, fingering, dry humping, and much more. But there was only one classroom in my school, so in all classes I was seated in the very back of the west side of the classroom. The girl seated in front of me was the vice- president of our class (I'll call her Susie), and beside her was one of the most respected girls in class (I'll call her Amy). They both hated me with a passion, they tripped me over, pushed me, slapped me , called me a whore and slut, they said I had sex with half of my class - when I'm a virgin. One day the girl who sat beside me was absent, so my best friend (I'll call her Christy) sat on the empty chair, and Amy turned around and said to Christy, "You better stay away from Naomi or else you'll lose your virginity." Amy thought of me as a sexual predator, like I'm an animal. Susie slapped me many times, Amy peeled off some of my skin on my arm, and laughed at me when my face fell flat on the floor. Amy told Christy many times that I would rape her. Susie complained about me talking, even if she was really loud in talking with Amy in class. It started to become daily and they started to make rumors that I'm lesbian (I studied in an all girls school). I was scared to tell a teacher since Amy was a teacher's pet but I told a teacher anonymously, and it all stopped. Even if it's been a long time since it happened it still stings, so if you are being bullied tell someone, don't let them win, prove that you are stronger than them no matter what.
I live in a small town. I am currently 14. My story started in fourth grade when a girl from a big city moved here. The boy she had a crush on liked me so she told everyone I was a slut. All my childhood friends believed her and joined in on calling me a slut. This killed me inside. In sixth grade when everything got worse, I told my mom about what was going on. We put a stop to it but apparently that didn't last. When I went into seventh grade everything got worse because we don't have a middle school - we get thrown right in with the high schoolers. So when I started dating a guy a grade above me, all hell broke loose. The girl who started the rumours ganged up with my boyfriend's ex who was two years older than me. They started some of the worst rumours I've heard about me. Those rumours sent me into a deep, deep depression. I told my mom about everything and all she did was tell me she raised me to be stronger. It was terrible. I never got any help so my cry for help was telling someone I wanted to kill myself. My parents found out and were devastated. I was on suicide watch for a year. That is the year I figured out my life wasn't really just my life. My life is also my parents, my friends, and everyone else. So here I am a year later with the same rumours getting spread around about me but I don't let it get to me. I hope eventually they'll go away but at this point I'm more worried about making sure I don't fall down into a depression again and so far I've been doing fine. So there's my story.
When I was 14 years old, I was gang raped by 4 older boys who went to my high school. A few of which I had really trusted and thought of as my friends. It totally destroyed me. I didn't want to tell anyone what happened but when the men started telling their side of the story, that I was a slut, I told my best friend what really happened and she convinced me to go to the police. I tried, they tried, but ultimately there wasn't enough evidence to press charges. I lived in a small town at the time - everyone knew everything and everyone in my town was convinced I lied about being raped. They ripped me apart. Brianna Lumb became a household name, the definition of slut. I couldn't go to a party without being bullied right back out of it. I dropped out of school because I couldn't take all the whispers and the pain of everyone thinking they knew me. I was afraid to leave my house, when I used to go out with my parents I would literally hide in the back seat of the car because I was so afraid of being seen. Even now, almost 7 years later, people still think of me that way.... It never goes away once you get that reputation. But what has changed is me. Even if the people in my town haven't. I don't live there anymore, I am traveling, seeing the world meeting good people who love me and respect me and BELIEVE ME. The people in my town might never change but my hope is that some day soon, slut shaming will stop and no girl will ever have to feel the way I felt in high school because it changes you and sometimes it makes you stronger, but sometimes it also kills you. - Brianna Lumb
I was the slut just for taking about sex openly and without shame with my "friends". Some ugliness came of it. I got blamed by these so-called friends when men I didn't even know sexually harassed and sexually assaulted me because somehow they must have known what a slutty slut I was. It was my "sexual energy" that brought this abuse on me. And here I am, so stupid, just thinking I'm living my life walking around out in the world going out with friends like a normal person, but really I was just being a slut. - Kristen B
My story may be found to be different than most others on this website, but I could not pass up an opportunity to share one of the most important events that has shaped me into the woman I am now. I was in middle school when the name calling started. Slut, whore, hoe, etc. were all things I was used to hearing my name associated with. It was strange, however, because until the 9th grade I had never even done anything but kiss a boy. I am a cheerleader, dancer and very outgoing. All of which brought on jealousy from other girls and sexual thoughts from the boys. However, this is not what I was aiming for. My passion was cheerleading and just because I wore a tight skirt or liked to dance at parties did not make me a "whore". What supposedly did make me a "whore" was the casual sex I enjoyed having throughout my junior and senior year of high school. I stayed safe, used protection and always knew the person I was engaging in sexual activities with. Or so I thought. My senior year I was involved with a friend of mine who had always been dating a different girl that I wasn't so fond of. But, that didn't stop me because I started to really like this kid. We would go out, get drunk, have sex and I would wake up the next morning and not remember anything. That was okay, though... Right? Wrong. After rumors flew of a "sex tape" my boyfriend and I had supposedly made, things went downhill... Fast. We broke up, he went back to his ex-girlfriend, and there I was again, lonely with rumors flying. This seemed to be a pattern in my life, but I gave the rumors no attention. I had never made a sex tape! Until November 15th of 2013, when my ex boyfriend showed his entire class the tape, pictures of me and other girls he had saved on his phone. Not until a friend confronted me about why I had been "lying" did it all hit me. The next few days, the story was on local news, his mugshot was being displayed on everyone's phone, and my school had even put together an "anti-sexting" video to show district wide. I had drunkenly and unknowingly "made a sex tape" with a boy that I trusted. Someone who had told me they loved me over and over again. Someone who was a friend. The worst part is that even though this boy was charged with Sexual Exploitation of a Minor to the 2nd and 3rd Degree, I was still the one being called slut, whore, liar, porn star, etc. He had completely taken advantage of me and I was the one being blamed for his arrest. This has haunted me to this day and I will always feel some sort of guilt for what happened, because I never wanted to get him into any sort of legal trouble. I was completely unaware of what had even happened. I wanted to share my story, because sex shaming is something that needs to be addressed and every woman who has faced this issue deserves to be heard. We stand together. - Stevie Little
I am from India. A country which is bound by certain restrictions which are considered a part of our culture. We need to think twice before falling in love with someone, be it in high school or after graduation. Arranged marriages are a common norm here, wherein the parents decide the spouse of their son or daughter. Although this norm is changing with time, as the parents are becoming more open to children finding their own partners, the concept of 'dating' someone is a HUGE deal here. I feel people don't really get the meaning of the word 'slut'. It is a curse which you can just give a girl. There was a girl in my school and rumour had it that she had dated about five guys, she was labeled a 'slut'. She never made out or slept with anyone. But yet, she was 'the slut'. No one talked to her and she was deserted for no fault of hers. No one knew or even gave a thought to her side of the story. Why do people take this word so lightly. Calling girls 'slut' and 'prostitute'?! We need to bring changes in our attitudes towards girls. Unless we know their story we HAVE NO RIGHT to judge them. I strongly resent this.
I've known about The UnSlut Project for a couple of years now and only recently decided to share my story. I guess I had to come to terms with it personally before I felt confident enough to let others know about my experiences with slut shaming and bullying. I do want to remain anonymous, though. My reputation in the eighth grade was that I was a pretentious, unlikable girl when really I was just shy and struggling with serious social anxiety and depression. When I got my first "real" boyfriend that year, I started to come out of my shell. While I did have a lot of friends, there was an equal number of girls who just didn't like me for one reason or another. I kept dating this boy on and off throughout the first couple years of high school, and during my sophomore year I got pregnant and my life snowballed. The day I found out I was pregnant, I decided to tell a couple of my friends in confidence about the news. I wasn't prepared to tell my parents yet. I was only sixteen - I could barely understand it myself, let alone know how to tell such devastating news to my mother. I never got the chance to tell her myself. I went to school the next day and rumors started swirling, which I quickly denied. I went to my boyfriend's house after school ended and on the drive home, my mother called me. Four girls, one of which I considered a good friend, had put a note on my porch that said "your slut daughter is preggo!" My mom asked me if it was true, I broke down and told her, and she walked away from me. Our relationship was in shambles for five months, at least until I found out that the baby I decided to keep was a girl. I found out I was pregnant in March of 2008, with only several months left of my sophomore year. That time period was a nightmare. Nearly all of my friends abandoned me because they simply couldn't understand what I was going through and how much I needed their support. The girls who didn't like me were even worse. They screamed "slut!" at me in the hallways, spread rumors that I got pregnant on purpose, and some even 'joked' that they would push me down a flight of stairs. I was the school pariah, the "dumb slut." My boyfriend, who attended a different high school at this point, faced no social repercussions, whereas my little sister was constantly asked what it was like to have a slutty knocked-up sister. The shame and torment I faced was so overwhelming that I completed my junior year via online schooling. Removing myself from the environment was the best decision I could make for myself at the time, allowing me to continue furthering my education while being able to stay home with my daughter, Addison, who was born in November of 2008. I went back to school for senior year and most of the bullying had subsided, but I was still known as "that girl with the baby." In retrospect, I don't regret anything. I made the right decision for me. I am now 22, a single mom, and a full-time student. The years following the birth of my daughter were filled with support from my family and I have made lifelong friends who accept me. But the awful, undeserved torment I received is unforgivable. I still have trouble trusting people and face the same social stigma of being a young mom. I hope that my daughter never has to feel the way I felt when I was a teenager - that having sex (and possibly facing an unplanned pregnancy) makes you a whore. There is no such thing.
In 6th grade, I was bullied. I was bullied because I was quiet, nice, my pants and shirt weren't tight enough, and because I wasn't like the other girls. The 7th graders were big and mean and very sexually active. I got into the cheer squad and I was the flyer because I was smaller. The 8th graders were mad. At one point I had to quit because practices ran late. The girls spread a rumor that I quit because I got pregnant. Eventually the rumor died two days later, because some 8th grade girl had sex and her little brother, who is in my grade, video taped them. The video was spread from social studies, when he got caught and the teacher took away the phone and she accidentally sent it to the first 10 recipients in the contact list. By the first lunch, every 6th grader had the sex video on their phone. And by the end of the day every student had it playing on their phone. They made fun of the girl until she left the school. The next year a few of my peers who were in the same grade as me, who were making fun of the girl, got pregnant. Half of the cheer squad got pregnant because they were trying to support their friend and it became a trend. In my 8th grade year, I wasn't in the school anymore, but this girl liked to wear crop tops and revealing clothing. The whole grade made fun of her but she never knew, including her friends. I felt bad for her until she made fun of me and my friends so we joined the group of people that made fun of her and continued the trend. We added the word "whore" to her last name - since it was Harrison, we called her "Whorison". But now there is a new trend, you're a "THOT" if you let him go to second base, or if you have too many boyfriends. I see another victim because there is always going to be another victim, but I feel TERRIBLE for making fun of that girl and giving her that nickname. Even though she doesn't know, it was wrong of me and everyone else and I got my friends to stop. Bottom line, bullying is not cool even if you feel the person deserves it.
I was a duckling who became a duck - a nice looking duck - I’m not going to say a swan, because let’s face it, it was middle school.
Hi my name is Gabby and you inspired me to write this entry. I hesitated before at the thought of writing this, to post it online; I thought it was something I should be embarrassed of but it's the past. Every girl goes through stages we try to figure out who we are and it seems like during that process you come in contact with a lot of negativity. I began to change in middle school. I was going through puberty like other girls at that age, and I lost weight. I was an obese kid and elementary was really hard because of that, but I want to talk about a time where I was labeled a "ho". (In the urban community we don’t so much say "slut" so they called me a "ho".) I was very anti-social in sixth grade, I could fit into a medium, but I still wore my oversized clothes, and I wasn’t into fashion or pretty, girly things. I hung out with guys because they accepted me, and girls didn’t. I dressed like a boy and laughed at their jokes. It was comfortable for a while. Nobody hit on me besides the real perverts that just wanted to be around breasts. In seventh grade, I made female friends. My clothes got more fitted but I still considered myself an ugly duckling. I had that awkward middle school hair - I went to school with cornrows. But my friends thought I was pretty, they followed me, I was the leader. Each day I made a change, not with appearance really, but personality. I made more friends. Here it comes: eighth grade, the year you're more mature, you think you understand yourself; you basically blossom, you have boobs now, you’re trying different styles, boys are interested. I was a duckling who became a duck - a nice looking duck - I’m not going to say a swan, because let’s face it, it was middle school. No more braids, I put on tight clothes and gained superficial confidence. When a guy would ask for my number, I began to think that was what I was worth. The amount of guys that tried to talk to me, if a lot, did that mean I was pretty? My group shrank a little, friends I called my besties decided they didn’t like me as much anymore. To them I had changed, but I just thought I had just gotten prettier and more likable. (Forgive my arrogance - oh my god, I was so conceited, but I really didn’t even like myself. I just knew other people liked how I looked, so I tried to suit them.) The boys around me at school would slap my legs when I wore a short skirt. Grab me, squeeze me, pull at my top and grope me. I always tried defending myself but never realized why it didn't work. They thought I was easy, a "ho", because of my clothes. Oddly I got use to it, and if it was from a guy I knew, I wouldn't say much. My old friends started talking about me, spreading rumors. It hurt a lot because they would smile in my face. My mother hated the way I dressed, and my older sister thought I was having sex because of it. I’d say things like, “When I was fat I couldn’t dream of fitting this, so while I’m skinny I want to wear whatever I can fit.” I never slept with anyone, but my family thought I was looking for trouble. I had my first kiss a year later. Cars would honk their horns, men would stop driving to talk to me. All of that was scary but my mindset was so out of place. I got a boyfriend. He was sixteen, I had just turned 14, and he was the worst. Leroy would drink and smoke - he actually brought alcohol to school in Arizona bottles. We dated for six months. He followed me to high school but broke up with me because we never even kissed. I didn’t trust him; he used to cheat with older girls. I even almost got into a fight over him, and all he wanted was my virginity. I knew that, but I still liked him so much. He made me laugh, he was easy going and he said the sweetest things, but when I look back I had just wanted a boyfriend to replace my friends who had left me out. I couldn't relate to them so I dated Leroy. He didn't defend me against the other boys; he’d let them feel me up because he didn't want to fight and everything was a joke to him. I must have looked like the dumbest thing. Leroy even had problems with the law. He took another girl to prom. He even asked out my friend when we broke up. I was cyberbullied: the girls who didn't like me wrote things like "look at that ho" on my MySpace pictures - "she became such a ho, always got the boys touching up on her." After the break up I decided I couldn't trust boys. I didn't want to have sex. My mother raised me up thinking sex was bad, sex is for adults, and if I did it she said she would know. I’m now 18, still living with those words. I understood why she told me things like that and I prefer to stay a virgin until I’m officially ready, maybe after marriage or whenever. I dealt with a lot towards the ending of eighth grade. I tried keeping my weight low, and I ended up with a eating disorder. I was eating under 700 calories a day. That number kept shrinking. I was always dizzy, passing out in the train, I was so afraid to be fat again that I did drastic things. But a beautiful lady named Eva - I’m using her real name - she was my mentor, my friend, my guidance counselor for three years until she moved. She helped me eat again slowly, she worked with me, I’m not sure how she did it. My arms were like sticks but I saw a whale in the mirror, but she helped me. I owe her my life. I didn't even know how bad not eating could be. My mother still doesn't know about anything. I damaged my metabolism and in 11th grade I gained thirty pounds in one year - I’m chubby again, but I accept my body. I’m happier with meat on my bones.(This time I mean it - I’m not fat, I’m just bigger in some places!) I just graduated and I start college in January. Wish me luck. Let's not judge each other; girl power is the best thing in life, besides lasagna. I felt like a failure in every sense, and that I couldn't win or make anyone in my life happy.10/15/2019
I'm aromantic, but I didn't realize that when I was younger because I had never heard the word before. I justified not dating in early high school by saying that I believed myself too young to date, and then later by lying - saying that my parents didn't want me to date. Though it was a lie, it was a reality for a number of fellow females I knew, so it worked pretty well. When I turned 16, I couldn’t get away with lying anymore. I internalized it all, and felt like a failure for not having dated, let alone not having had my first kiss yet. I cried a lot. When I was a few years older, I finally brought myself to have a boyfriend - I had even put it on my list of New Year’s Resolutions, which I now realize as pretty sexist, thinking of a boyfriend like an object to acquire in order to fit in. However, just a month or two before he and I started dating, he had turned down a friend of mine. She stopped being my friend when he and I got together, and started spreading rumors that we were having sex. Most of the people in my life at the time thought it was a horrible and shameful thing to have sex outside of marriage. It hurt that my friend would say that, but I never thought people would believe the rumors. However, most of the kids did believe it, and most of the adults believed it, too. I felt shocked, angry, and shamed. I was made fun of when I didn't have a boyfriend, and made fun of even worse when I had one. I had entered the relationship hoping I would feel romance with time. When I didn't, being aromantic, I felt even worse. I confessed to an adult whom I trusted that I felt that I was being unfair to my boyfriend by being in a relationship when I couldn't feel what he wanted me to feel. That adult wanted me to stay with him anyway, so I did for a while. But I felt worse and worse about it. I even got suicidal. I felt like a failure in every sense, and that I couldn't win or make anyone in my life happy. I stayed alive because I didn’t want to further upset the people I had already upset. I finally ended the relationship, and I felt a bit better. I had hurt his feelings, but at least I wasn’t lying to him anymore. That was all a long time ago, and I am much happier with myself now. I don't think anyone should be slut shamed. Whether someone does or does not have sex, and whoever is or is not their lover, and whenever or how often they do or don't have sex depends entirely on what feels right to that person, and as long as everything is consensual, that should be respected. Thank you so much for The UnSlut Project!
I thought this year would be better, but it's worse. I hardly knew anyone at Secondary school. At first. I would hang out with Rowan usually, since I met her outside of school and we both didn't know many people. Then slowly as the weeks passed, I made lots of friends, true and fake, and introduced them to Rowan. Months later, our roles have reversed. Then the cyber bullying started. Around this point, I lost most of my girl mates, because they thought I was attention-seeking, so I made a lot of guy friends. Girls 2 years older than me would tell me I was attention-seeking, post stuff about me on Facebook, get their friends involved too, and as they were popular and older, I couldn't do anything. Then people I didn't even know told me to go die and that my parents didn't love me, I was fat, ugly, unloved, poor, a slag, a bitch, a hoe, etc. etc. Then my parents found out and reported them to the police, they left me alone afterwards. I started self harming in November because I was different, and because I felt I was being used and that I was a slag. Because in the previous summer holidays, my friends persuaded me into flashing my boobs on camera to strangers on a website. I felt like I a slut. Then this year, after multiple short relationships with guys I didn't like in that way, I found a guy (Robb) who made me smile, who made me love myself, but it sorrowfully ended. After our on and off relationships, whilst I fancied/dated him, I had a thing for several of his mates. Some of them were dating my best mates. I felt like I was a fake friend and that I was a slut too. Robb told me he loved me and tried persuading me to send him nude pictures of myself and to have sex with him. Because I thought it was love, I said yes. But I didn't send him pictures since I was on my ancient laptop. We had planned to have sex on a camping trip with our two friends who were dating (Declan and Rowan). But since he called me a hoe and fell out with me, sex never happened either. And he obviously told all his friends about our little conversation. Because I had developed faster than most of my mates I was already a C cup, nearly a D cup, whilst most of my friends were B or A. So I obviously became an object of sexual interest to many guys, including older guys. Year 9 guys would message me saying that I had a nice pair, etc. Then another ex, Joseph, asked me for pictures and sex, persuading (but failing) me with, "I'll be a good shag" & "it'll just be two best friends losing their virginity to each other". Then came the sexual touching. He would run up to me and squeeze my boobs against my will or spank me without my permission, in front of his friends of course, or touch me under the table in our lessons together. My next boyfriend, Ben, asked for a camping trip, exactly what Robb said, and I knew he wanted to coerce me into f*cking him. He told all of his mates I would do things with him and I had already done things with him, but a) I didn't plan on doing things with him & b) I hadn't done ANYTHING with him. I feel as if thanks to Robb, I won't find another guy who likes me for me, not for my boobs or for sex. Then yesterday this 14 year old guy from my older friend's primary school added me on Snapchat. He thinks I'm 14 when I'm actually 12. He is constantly asking for pictures. I have never met him in my entire life. My other friend (Ann) has told me people will think I'm a slag and I know most of my friends think it too, but they're just too nice to say so. Ever since Robb, I have been having flings with guys, leading them on, especially his mates or guys he didn't like me hanging out with, because he hurt me and despite that, I irrationally miss him. When I walk in the street, constantly guys look at my cleavage, even grown men. And my parents even think I'm a slut, my mom thinks I use Snapchat to send nudes, and she thinks my cleavage is noticeable because I made It noticeable. I'm starting to question my sexuality, I think I might be bisexual, but my parents are god-fearing people and I hear them talking about homosexuals behind their backs and it isn't nice what their saying and even my friends tell me stuff that is homophobic but they say they don't mind gays. I keep thinking about suicide and self harm. I just want it all to end, the constant judgement, ridicule, slut shaming, etc. I'm also worried about my weight a lot, I've been starving and binging & purging ever since May. For 4-5 months almost, I haven't had proper sleep, I either wake up within a few hours or sleep at 8am. Also school is about to start within a week and I know Robb has set me up as an object of ridicule and slut shaming within his social circles. I'm scared the bullying will return again, just because I had a couple of sexual hollow conversations/promises and because of my multiple short relationships where I just lead the guys on. I feel as I'm a slut because of me leading guys on, and because of the sex/picture chats. I'm sick of myself. I don't know what caused all of the sexual conversations and perversions, but I could've stopped it, I could've told someone, but I was too scared that I would get told "you wanted it" "slut!" "Your clothing was provocative" comments. It's all my fault my life is like this. Sooner or later I'll lose all my friends again, and I will give in to their coercing and persuasion. I'm only 12, yet I feel so alone. -Carol Ann Lynn Note to the author: Since you submitted this account anonymously, I don't have your contact information. Please reach out to a parent or teacher for help immediately. You are NOT alone, and this is NOT your fault. You can overcome it, just like the women who have shared their stories here before you. Judging from your language, I am guessing you're in the UK. Please visit www.samaritans.org and check out the resources available to you. I am always here to talk, as well. Love, Emily
I was "blessed" with an hour glass figure: big breasts, tiny waist, big hips. This figure started developing when I was very young and by the time I reached seventh grade, I was a C cup. I was 12 years old and men in their 20s were hitting on me because they couldn't see the child's face past the woman's body.
It was seventh grade when the rumours started. A few of the significant ones I remember are of me apparently having a video of me stripping on Youtube, that I got naked on webcam for anyone and strangers, that I wasn't a virgin, and that I stuffed my bra. I had never even kissed a boy. The middle school guidance counselor didn't help either. She was constantly harassing me about my inappropriate clothing. I wore the same clothes as everyone else, from the same stores, but somehow they were inappropriate because I had a form for them to fit. I was constantly sent home, called in to the office, and forced to wear clothes from the lost and found. It was humiliating. When I asked why I got in trouble when other girls wore the exact same shirt, I was told that I just didn't have the body for it. It seemed that the school wouldn't be happy unless I dressed like a boy. It was eighth grade when things got way worse. During the summer, I had my first boyfriend but he was from a different town (my grandparents lived there and I had spent the summer with him). Everyone either thought that I made him up or that I was doing horrible immoral things with him. Since being a "slut" wasn't the only thing I was bullied for, people found it hard to believe I could get a boyfriend. The second favourite insult of my tormentors was "fat," since they were too young to notice the waist in between the hips and breasts. Someone found my Yahoo! answers account where I had gone to ask questions about my body, and they twisted things around and told everyone that my vagina smelled like cheese. For the rest of the year, people constantly yelled "cheesy odour" at me. On New Years (still grade 8), my older friend took me to a party. There was drinking involved. One of the guys there took an interest in me and we ended up having sex. I had only ever kissed a boy before so I didn't understand what was happening until about halfway through. The rest of the time I remember sitting there wishing it would be over but not wanting to be rude. My friend went back to school after the break and told the entire high school what had happened. After that, I would have random girls on the street or the bus or the mall yell at me, call me a whore, accuse me of having STDs, etc. I got another boyfriend in March of grade 8. My "best friend" made up countless rumours that were absurd, but everyone believed anyways. She said that she had came over and there were used condoms all over my room, that I had sex with my boyfriend in my front yard, and other things to that effect. The summer before high school, my older friend got mad at me and turned everyone in the high school against me. I also got black out drunk at a party and when I came to, I was in some guy's backseat bent over puking out the door and he was inside me. After that, I didn't believe that I had the right to say no. I'm not going to lie, there have been countless others and to this day, I'm not sure how many of them would even be considered consensual. They would beg, and I would give in. The times I did say no, they told everyone we had sex anyways. I felt like I owed it to them, to anyone who wanted it. I couldn't say no. Ninth grade started. My older friend kept trying to fight me. There were countless rumours of STDs, pregnancies, countless sexual partners, and anything that also degraded me (bestiality, threesomes, bondage, cheating). I had friends but they all talked about me behind my back. I think my "friends" were responsible for more rumours than anyone else. One girl kept trying to fight me over rumours. She would chase me through the mall, or come punch me, or harass and accuse me of things. People yelled things at me, harassed me online, threatened me. At one party, two girls tried to beat me up and push me in the bonfire. At another, I fell asleep and woke up to people kicking me, pissing on me, and T-bagging me. No one had stood up for me. There was an older guy (21) who came to the school and fell for me. When I rejected him, he came to the school with a knife, threatening to kill me. The police were called. After that, things got worse. I was a slut and a narc and I was in danger, so we moved to another town. I went to this school for a year. I got a boyfriend and things were mostly fine. There were a couple rumours: some girls said they saw me giving him head in the parking lot. But for the most part, no one took them seriously. It was always there in the background but it was easy to ignore until my boyfriend and I broke up. Things got bad again, people were threatening me, so I ran again. I actually had to finish the last couple months of my schooling from home because it wasn't safe for me at school. I started a new school for grade 11. This time no one even tried to get to know me. My first couple weeks were filled with random girls accusing me of trying to steal their boyfriends and trying to fight me. Things calmed down and I was invisible. I literally did not have one single friend. I started dating a boy who was also new and things got bad again. People were yelling names at me, making up rumours, saying I gave my boyfriend a hand job in health class. They carved "health class hand job" onto the doors of the gym, screamed it when I walked past, whenever they saw me in town. It was basically like that all of grade 11 and 12, except this time, I didn't even have fake friends. I was completely isolated. No one had ever even bothered to talk to me unless it was to bully me. The boy I dated ended up being a jerk and contributed to a lot of it. He cheated on me all the time, but somehow I was the whore. It was just unbearable. It was everywhere I went and I had no one to talk to. I was completely alone. I broke two months before I graduated and tried to kill myself. I took a lot of pills and it made me sleep for days and really sick but I lived. After that I realized that I couldn't kill myself because all of those assholes would be the same ones posting on Facebook about how it's such a tragedy and they don't know what went wrong. I couldn't give them that satisfaction. I graduated high school and thought it was over, but it has followed me. University is filled with my bullies from every school I attended, I can't go to the bar without being harassed, people bully me online, whenever they see me in public. I can't escape it. I'm 20 years old and people are constantly messaging my boyfriend to tell him how bad of a person I am. That's the worst of it. Everybody thinks that I'm the bad person. Countless people bullied me, even more stood by and let it happen. These same people go on Facebook crusades about how wrong bullying is, but no one cared when it happened to me. But I'm the bad person. Because I'm a slut. Because people turned me into a self-fulfilling prophecy, and made me believe that I wasn't worth anything more, that I owed men sex, that I didn't have the right to say no because sluts don't say no. Because I developed curves a little bit too early. I don't know how to escape this. I can't make friends. I can't get a boyfriend. As soon as people hear I met someone, they flock to tell this person why they need to avoid me. And it's really, really hard to have absolutely no one. I'm ashamed of my body, I'm ashamed of my past, of my number, and I don't think anyone will ever accept me for it. I'm 20 years old and still being judged by rumours people made up when I was 14. The truth? Almost every guy I have had sex with has coerced me into it when I had originally refused. Some of those guys didn't bother coercing me and took what they wanted regardless of what I said. I have been in 3 serious relationships. I have never cheated. I dated my high school boyfriend for almost 3 years, and my last boyfriend for 7 months. I have not had sex in 6 months. I have probably had sex with between 60 and 70 people. When I was in primary school I was going through a very hard time. I would get verbally abused to my face, being called a slut, bitch, and I even got told to go and kill myself. I cried myself to sleep every night. I even faked I was sick so I could stay home, but even at home I couldn't get away from it - I was also getting bullied online on the school website we had, where we could talk to each other or send comments. I hated it. Someone thought as a joke it would be funny if I was with a guy. We dated, but then he broke up with me cuz he couldn't handle everything going on. He told everyone, and I was the laughing stock of year 7. I went home sick that day. This year in grade 9, high school, I still get bullied. I get called a slut, bitch, even get pushed around so that I had a bruise on my right side. My parents still don't know. I've come out as bisexual to a few of my friends. They accept me and support me whereas others don't, and there are rumors going around the school. But I have a lovely girlfriend who tells me it will all be all right, but I've tried to commit suicide 4 times. It sucks that I've turned to cutting but I'm trying to stop, and to stop throwing up after every couple of meals. So what I've leant from bullying is it ruins society and little minds. That felt good to get of my chest :) - Olivia Celeste
I've been called a slut and a whore by practically everyone in my year just because some Regina George impersonator decided to spread some rumors about me. It all started because I gave my number to a really hot guy at the cinema. He said he thought I was hot and we texted back and forth for a while. One of my friends accidentally let it slip to this girl who hates me and she started a rumor that I was a giant whore even though I've never even been kissed. Eventually the guy stopped talking to me but the rumors still continued. People would write notes to me telling me how much they hated me and wanted me to die. It got so bad that one day while in class we were supposed to write notes to people in the class and tell them something good about them to help raise their self esteem. I got at least twenty notes which I assumed were harmless but they were anything but! The teacher had to read them aloud to the class and I could tell she felt bad about it. But nothing was done! I lost all my friends and no one bothered to talk to me. It wasn't until I finally found the courage to tell my guidance counselor about it that things started to change. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and for the first time in months I felt free. I'm still not Little Miss Popular, but now I have a few close friends that I can turn to if things start getting bad again. I'm glad I did something about it because frankly, I don't think I'd be alive right now if I hadn't. - Amy
When I was in 3rd and 4th grade, I had a boyfriend who went to a different school (didn't really matter, wasn't a real relationship). Let's just call him John. After two years of 'dating', I broke up with him. I am going into high school this year. Ever since 4th grade when I ended things, people have been calling me 'John's girl', and telling me to get back together with him so that he and I could f***. This has been ongoing for five years, and he is going to my high school this year, so I am quite scared of how that is going to go. Another 'boyfriend' I had, was in 5th grade. Let's call him 'Will'. He had liked me since 1st grade, so when we finally went out, people would always make fun of me, and say that I was just leading him on, when I actually did like him. They called me names and everything. When I ended things and we went into middle school, we were joined by another group of elementary school kids that I never met before. That first day of school, people I didn't even know the names of would tease me and make fun of me for going out with Will, who was a good kid! I didn't know why people would do that. Every time I would have a thing with another guy, they would practically treat me like a slut and say that I was cheating on Will. One guy moved to our school from Georgia, all the way across the country, and the first thing he said to me was, 'So, you and Will got it on, huh?' I have never even had my first kiss yet! It got so bad that people would text me on unknown numbers saying inappropriate things claiming they were Will, and they would do the same to Will claiming they were me. They would post things on social websites anonymously. Will and I finally talked to the counselor, who said he would give detention to the next person who did it. When people still bullied us and we reported it, he never did anything about it except for once. Once people heard I reported it, I was known as the tattle tale, and goody two shoes. I can't seem to get rid of the reputation I have, which is so dumb because I was 11 when it started. It is still going on, making me quite scared of what will happen in high school. It's better, yes. But still happening. I would like every girl on here to know that you need to report or talk to an adult who is trusted. Sometimes, you can't handle everything on your own, especially, like in my case, when you have a whole school against you. It will get better, though. I am scared for this school year, but am hoping and am optimistic that it will get better. My story may not seem like much compared to others, but it is a form of sexual harassment that is hurtful to me. Stay strong, and stand up against bullying, ladies. - Emily Crose
I fell for a boy two years older than me in my first year at a new school, and it was the stupidest thing to have confessed to him and be in a relationship with him. I knew we wouldn't last from the start, but I just held on to that hope... that false hope. Well, he had a reputation of being touchy when it came to being around girls, but he swore that he had changed. His studies weren't that good, but I told people that he's smart but just not when it comes to grades. (Again, I do not know why I did all this.) I was always taught to respect my own body, and I did. On one outing he had 'accidentally' hit my private part when I was wearing shorts, and I just said 'It's okay,' but still I mentally jotted that in my brain. He became possessive after I lost my first kiss to him; I couldn't talk to boys without him coming up to me and listening to our conversation, so I broke up with him on good terms. My friends had paired me up with him again, but we ended our relationship with an argument. He said hurtful things and I came to realise how stupid I was for even caring. He regretted what he said and told his friends about what happened. People started saying that I was so proud and boastful to be his girlfriend even when I wasn't even dating him, and the word spread to other teachers - teachers I don't even know. What eventually came out of this was a whole string of rumours, extra spread of the 'news' through teachers (yes, teachers), after-class talks with my English teacher about whether or not that 'bright and interesting student' within me was still present, even though my friends have noticed no change in me. I don't give two hoots about him now, but I'm just scared that my teachers would think badly of me. I cannot explain myself. I have no way out. It's ongoing and I'm scared. Note to the author: Since you submitted this account anonymously, I don't have your contact information. Please reach out to a parent or teacher (not one of the ones who is victimizing you) for help immediately. You are NOT alone, and there IS a way out of all this. You can overcome it, just like the women who have shared their stories here before you. Judging from your spelling of certain words, I am assuming you're in the UK. Please visit www.samaritans.org and check out the resources available to you.
I am always here to talk, as well. Love, Emily Well, I'm 12, and I've had a memorable past 2 years. I would get bullied about the way I looked, everyone said I was ugly and fat and I basically had no friends for all of Year 5. Then in Year 6, I would get pinned down by these girls and they would yell at one of the other girls to slap me. I ran, obviously. I would think a lot about suicide. My parents were constantly comparing me to my friends and call me fat and ugly. Year 7 is not any better. I have started cutting, I've got a whole wrist full of scars, whenever I wear a comfortable top and skinny jeans, guys stare at my only just noticeable cleavage. Year 9 students message me saying I have a 'nice pair'. My mum says I should be proud that I'm a 34C at my age, but if I was flat chested, I wouldn't be stared at by boys. Also, there was this rumour that I had shagged 3 boys, presumably my 3 previous exes. That caused Year 8's and Year 7's to look at me in a new light. For example, a Year 8 walked past me and my boy best friend, who is coincidentally his best mate, and said to him, "You're in". It's stopped, *thank effing god*, but now year 8 and 9 girls slag me off, on Facebook and to each other, and I feel really uncomfortable nowadays about myself. For the past few weeks I've been trying to get ahold of fags (cigarettes), sleeping pills, etc. I feel as if I'm deliberately making my life worse for myself. With friends I'm fun and outgoing and we joke about getting drunk and high (we aren't actually into that stuff) and I don't know what to do anymore. Also my ex boyfriend is slagging me off, calling me a whore, when he was the one who played me twice. And I'm sure as hell I'm turning into a slut. Which doesn't work out for me since all the boys who are interested in me are creeps. - C
There is one specific story, one specific day, that stands out when I try to remember the bullying I had to endure at age 14-16 (oh, do I wish I kept a diary at that age, now). It is not one of the harshest, maybe not one of the scariest, but for some reason it's been stuck in my mind since then... for ten years. It was the day after a night at my friend's house. She had a very open dad, who really didn't care what we did, as long as we didn't do drugs and didn't leave the house, so we loved spending the night there, drinking and whatever. That night a guy, a friend of my friend, had to spend the night there, in the basement where we used to hang out and watch movies... So we started watching a movie, and slowly everyone started to leave, go to bed, go home, etc., so that only he and I were left on the couch. I knew perfectly that he was not interested in me, just bored, I guess, and I really didn't want to do anything, but the last friend to leave told me I HAD to stay, and it was going to be great, so I just went with it. He started reaching under my pants with his hand, and it felt weird. Weird and uncomfortable, until I finally just stood up and left for bed, out of weirdness alone. Still, the next day the rumours were crazy. I remember a guy out of my class actually asking if this guy had fingered me and not denying it. I didn't think I had to, it seemed absurd to lie, especially when everyone was doing it. Still, the rumours kept growing, and as school ended that day and I was waiting for the bus, two boys sat down next to me and started asking about it. The conversation I can't get out of my head went something like this: Boy 1: "So, did you blow him?" Me: "What? No." Boy 2: "Of course not, how could she do that with a bag over her head? And she had to wear one if he dared to finger her." To this day I don't know how I let that conversation affect me so much. I knew those guys were assholes, and the guy who had actually been with me that night didn't react like that at all. He was actually friends with me for a long time after that, and he acted like what we did was completely natural, and okay, and not a big deal (so, he acted like a normal person!), but still. Thinking and hearing that affected every intimate relation I had for a long time, and made me unbelievably insecure for a long time. I had never shared this. With anyone. Not even back then, when I wanted to act like I didn't care. Thank you, I'm glad to realize now that sharing stories like this, putting our names and faces on it, showing people that they can get out of it...it helps. - Ro
I am 48 years old and I was bullied, too. I developed early and had to wear a bra at age 9. I was bullied about my bra, my breasts, and eventually at age 13, a rumor was spread that I had sex with a guy because my dad forbid me to hang around him. I was lucky – cell phones and social media were not on the horizon at that time. The rumor died down and I made new friends but the damage was done. Early this year, I have begun to heal and deal with my abuse with the help of my therapist. It's still as painful today as it was then. I have body issues because of it and I am having a hard time moving forward. I thank you for your work on this project
I have survived. It has been hard. Let me start at the beginning: I was a happy child of high school sweetheart parents with a happy childhood. I started developing quickly at 11, completely bypassing the training-bra stage and about a foot taller than my classmates. I had frizzy hair, glasses, and a body I didn't know what to do with. I covered myself in baggy T-shirts and pants as much as I could. Partying wasn't in my mind, I did my homework, went to dance class and enjoyed time with my family. School was a torment, teachers loved me, but classmates despised me. One boy, Preston - ugh it still shakes me to this day - filled his sweet time in our math class by slipping his hands across my thighs and 'accidentally' getting good handfuls of my chest all while lowly chanting, "You like that, don't you?" I quietly told him to stop, but I wasn't the type to make a scene and he fully took advantage of that. He liked to whisper about it in the halls to his equally scummy friends when I would walk by.
I did not date until later in high school, the first being a new boy from Arizona who, frankly, I was equally attracted to and scared of, mostly because I had never dated before. He pursued me for an entire school year. I fended off his advances, but his charm finally stuck. He was supposedly a "nice Christian boy," so I after I got my drivers license that summer I went to see him. He told me his parents were home. As he rushed me through his house into his room, I didn't get a chance to see if his parents were absent but I figured they were. I was already feeling put-off. Once in his room he awkwardly sat me on the bed and pushed me down, kissing me. I did want him to like me but I was so disconnected, the innocent kissing quickly turned into his hands down the front of my jeans, which he didn't even bother to unbutton. I lay there completely frozen for what seemed like hours, but it was probably more like 10 minutes. I shot up and out of his house, hopped in my car and went back home, not sure what to do with myself. I was inundated with many angry calls and texts from him telling me to get back there. I finally answered him and said, "No, I'm not comfortable." I cried all night, not sure if what I did was good or bad, maybe I should have stayed, is that what other girls did? It didn't matter. He managed to tell everyone in our circle of friends I was "easy." It escalated from there. Guys were giving me sly grins and girls I had never talked to gave me dirty looks. AIM and MySpace were just beginning and my inbox was full of comments that I deleted left and right. Then and there I chose to never date anyone from my school, quickly changing their harsh comments from "slut" to "tease." Even though it seemed like a lesser term, it still stung. How was I teasing anyone? I started dating an older guy from across town who had already graduated. The slut shaming didn't stop after high school. I went off to college still dating my high school sweetie, but getting restless. I spent my first semester holed up in my dorm room working on art projects. I didn't drink, but I was the unhappy DD most nights for my friends. They berated me and after hearing it for so long I finally said, "Okay." My boyfriend didn't like the fact I was away at college doing God knows what, which ironically wasn't anything at all. So finally I called it quits after 3 years with him during my second semester, and decided to finally have my crazy-college-time. Generally I would wake up in my bed, the sorority couch, or in my car, but there were occasions of waking up next to a male collegiate without his name and my pants either missing or undone and no recollection. This, I assumed, was the "college experience," and for the most part I didn't find it troubling. I had a couple of flings here and there, nothing crazy. One instance, though, will forever haunt me more than the rest. Our annual sorority formal was coming up and I was date-less so the sisters decided to set me up. I knew I could have plenty of fun with just the girls, but they insisted. I met up with him a few days prior to the formal. He picked me up and we went for a drive in his truck and talked for a bit. He seemed cool, but I wasn't really into him. He was quite a bit older, about 33 at the time, back in college after his stint in the military, with thinning hair and a crooked grin. I'm not about stringing guys along but since he seemed genuinely excited to go to the formal, I kept the date. He picked me up in a good mood, from what I could tell. We got there and several of the sisters were already a few drinks in, so they felt I needed to catch up. The night wore on and I didn't manage to drink more than a drink and a half at most, but I was feeling light-headed. We headed to an after party at a frat house and that's where things get hazy. I only mildly recall getting there and nothing about leaving. I woke up in a room I didn't recognize, completely naked, and there he was in the nude lying next to me. I couldn't move for several minutes but when I did, I realized every muscle was sore. I tip-toed to the bathroom in search of my clothes and tried to dress in between getting sick into his toilet. I got out as quietly as I could. It was still in the early morning hours. I went home and quickly tried to put it out of my mind. My grades started slipping, I was drinking every night, slept through most of my classes, and couldn't sleep - pretty much every opposite trait of myself. Finally that summer, I called my parents. I wanted to come home. I hopped around in junior college, still struggling. I also hopped therapists. My first therapist sat me down with my parents and told them about my "alleged rape" and all I could do was cry. I found my third therapist and she completely opened up my thought process. She deals in PDT therapy and works with those dealing with traumatic experiences and she completely helped me save myself. I am now in a successful career as an esthetician, engaged to the most loving and thankful man I have ever met, and I have a bulldog pup that is the light of my life. I still battle demons, but I can tell you IT DOES GET BETTER. - Beth Brasher When I was 12 I had more boys as friends than girls. I had two girl friends that I felt would always be a part of my life - we were always together. All of our mutual friends would always hang out together. I lived next to a river so we always had people out going fishing and my house was the "fun" house (my mom was like a mom to everyone). I went down to the river one day with a couple of guys out there. One said, "Hey, what's back there?" I replied, "A bunch of trees." He said, "Let's check it out." He was dating a friend so I didn't think anything of it until he "accidentally" tripped me and pulled my shirt up and started licking my chest. I said no and he shoved his hand down my pants. It hurt, it burned, it was horrible. As soon as he was done I went straight home and took a shower. I didn't tell my mom or anyone. Monday at school the "friend" he was dating had told everyone I had come onto her guy and not to leave your boyfriends around me since I was easy. That was my very first sexual encounter. I was told by her mom that I was a slut and that I could no longer be a friend of her daughters if I was that kind of example. No one even asked me what happened.
Three years later as a freshman I was dating a junior from another school. He pressured me for sex a lot. I was a virgin - he was not. I finally gave in two days before my 16th birthday. I hated it. It hurt, I felt so used and so low. I told my best friend and she was like, "You just now did it? I thought you did a long time ago." I was with him another two years after and he was extremely controlling and had several other girls he slept with but he told me that was how he knew I loved him - by sleeping with him. Once we broke up, one of his friends apologized to me. He said their group of friends told the guy I was with to stay with me until I "gave it up" and then he should dump me. He said he never thought it would be so bad for me. A month after we broke up, I joined the wrestling team. My mom told me I had "anger issues" and made me go to one counseling session that she sat in on. I answered questions the way they wanted not by telling the truth. I was told if the wrestling helped to keep it up and was started on an antidepressant to level my moods. My neighbor, a senior that I'd known for ten years, also wrestled. My mom would make food for the team and he'd hang around after the rest left. On December 26, 2003 we were in my room talking and joking and watching movies we had gotten for Christmas. I fell asleep and woke up with him on me, one hand up my shorts and the other over my mouth. He told me he had wanted me for years and he knew I did, too. But I didn't. When I tried to shove him off he told me he'd hurt me and how embarrassed my mom would be if she found out how easy I was. The next day we had a wrestling tournament and when I got home I told my mom. She told me, "If it's true, tell your coach and leave the team." I did. No one believed me. I got spit on, I had chocolate milk poured in my locker, my car was keyed and egged. Our house was toilet-papered. Someone even put a dead deer in our yard. I cried all the time. I begged my mom to let me switch schools and she said no. He graduated that spring but no one ever let me forget it. Just last week my mom asked in the car, "What ever happened to that boy that was our neighbor you had sex with?" It hit me like a ton of bricks. I almost threw up. And I said I don't know and I don't care. Anyway, I'm 27 now, married with two beautiful girls with my husband now. I'm terrified for them. I know how bad it was for me before social media and now I'm even more worried for them. I can just try to help other girls know it's not okay what happened, but you CAN get through it. Life gets better after high school. You can go to college and get to start over! Don't let them win! Don't respond with negativity, just ignore it. I know it's so hard but when they see no reaction they move on! Just remember you are beautiful no matter what and you are NOT alone. I still have nightmares. I was 14 when it happened. I had hardly even kissed a boy. It started out like any normal day. I went to school. I remember being in a really good mood. After school, I walked to the park with my "best friend," who was a guy. It was his birthday. We weren't the kind of friends to give each other presents, but what I didn't know is that he expected one. We got to the park and sat at a picnic table near some trees. People passing by couldn't see us unless they looked really hard. But I didn't think about it . He was my best friend . I trusted him. So I went to the park with him alone. For that, I was "asking for it." Then he surprised me: he kissed me. I didn't run away, I didn't stop him. It was only a kiss. He wanted something I wasn't willing to give him. "I'm your best friend, don't you trust me?" He pressured me over and over. I didn't get up and run away. I trusted him. For that, it was "my fault." I said no. Over and over I said no. I was getting ready to go home. I should have gone sooner. And for that, you guessed it. "It was my fault." And so he raped me. Rape. For the longest time, I never used that word. I hated it. I still do. When he was finished, he went to track practice. He didn't understand or care what he had done to me. I walked home, locked myself in my room. The next day at school, nothing seemed different. I went to my classes like normal. I didn't notice people whispering or giving me dirty looks. Then I went to art class, 5th hour. I was trying so hard to not think about the day before. We were drawing animals that day, I think. I heard two girls at the next table fake coughing out the word "Whore." One of them I had known since kindergarten. I looked up and realized they were looking at me. This was the beginning. My "best friend" had told the whole school that I had willingly done a variety of sexual acts with him. And because he was such a nice guy, and well liked, they high-fived him. Patted him on the back. And believed him. But no one high-fived me for what they THOUGHT I had done. I spent the rest of the year being called a whore, slut, anything you can think of. I was the star of half the rumors in that school. I had nightmares, I got anxiety. I finally got up the courage to tell someone. It was my brother, at the same school. He told me it was my fault. I was so relieved when school let out for the summer, because it would all go away and I could move on. But it followed me, online. Anytime someone saw me. There was no escape. I tried to kill myself. It never went away. When I came back for school the next year it was still happening. People I had known for years saw me crying and would say, "It's your fault." Finally, I switched schools. At first, it followed me there. I was hopeless. Then slowly, it went away. But what never went away is the nightmares. The anxiety. Almost every night I see his face in my sleep. I'm about to graduate high school and I sleep with a nightlight, because no matter how much anxiety medicine I take , he's still there. But he hasn't stolen my voice. This is my first time telling my full story. And not my last. The UnSlut Project has given me hope. It isn't my fault. And I am not what happened to me.
In fifth grade I had my first boyfriend (let's call him "A")... We didn't touch or kiss - only held hands once. After two months of dating, we broke up. Then, "A" started spreading rumors about how I kept going over his house and had sex with him and all things related. "A" was a popular boy with a lot of friends, so the false rumors spread quickly. I was labeled the slut and even got in trouble with my parents and the principal! I told them the truth, and "A" got an in-school suspension. The label of me being a slut slowly faded away, and now in sixth grade, I moved from that school and I'm now in a new town with new friends, and still no boyfriend. (I'm too young for it, anyway!) - Samantha
Since "sluts don't get to say no," I didn't even know what had happened until much later.10/11/2019
I'm a 35-year-old woman who still bears the scars from the sexual bullying that I endured for years. I was 12 when it started, long before I had even kissed a boy, and only because I was friends with a lot of guys, and their girlfriends got jealous and hostile. Later people just shared the stories, because that is what you do with gossip. When I finally began to develop it was an overnight thing, one day nada, the next day 36 C, and then people really felt the need to discuss me. The level of rumors that went around stemmed from the relatively normal go-to's of "she's pregnant" or "she cheated" to the completely absurd. I was sexually harassed, sexually assaulted (groped), and even raped, but since "sluts don't get to say no," I didn't even know what had happened until much later. Therefore, when I started talking about it, no one believed me. People also used the story of my rape to further my reputation as a slut, which was re-victimization to a degree that I still don't like thinking about. This went on well past graduation, in fact, when I came home for one of my friend's graduations the year after my own graduation, I was asked by a half dozen people that first day if I was pregnant, because they had heard that I was. I had left home, and they were still talking about me. I stopped coming home to visit, I just couldn't deal with it. My favorite part of the whole ordeal is that people still constantly tell me to "just get over it", like it's no big deal that at the time that I was supposed to be forming my identity, people told vicious lies about my sexual life over and over again, for years, turning me into a pariah! I'd love to ask how you keep that from affecting you? I am stronger for all that I went through, I understand that... However, it has made me hyper-aware of how I'm perceived by others to this day. It isn't that I care about what they think about me or even what they say about me now, and I'm the first person to call out slut-shaming (to the extreme annoyance of everyone that I know), I just can't help but take in the looks and whispers. (I should also share that I had to move back to my hometown recently, bringing it all back to the surface for me, right around the time you started sharing your journals.) The biggest problem for me stems from the fact that it seems like that ugly name follows me without even being said. Men don't want to date me or form a relationship, they only want to sleep with me, and I don't know how to deal with that. It is as if the label permeates to my core, and that scarlet letter glows. Within relatively recent history I have been groped at work, my perceived sex life has been discussed, and I've even been coerced into sexual activity, something that I thought I was past as an adult... What all of this has taught me is that I do not let anyone tell me who I am now. I know that I'm a loyal friend who is intelligent and funny, that I deserve good things from life, and no one can take that away from me. My sexuality is my own, and it is not up for discussion. My history is just that, history, but some of it still stings, as past hurts often do. Unfortunately, it took me a really long time to get there, and there are still times as mentioned above where some of that strength slips from me. Thank you for everything you do! - B
Last year I was in seventh grade and in the summer I was being called names by a group of boys. They began to call me slut and other names that are very similar. Slowly, the rumor of me being a slut began to spread. I was the school's biggest gossip piece, slowly girls began to call me names as well. It spread so quickly. That's when boys began to touch me. By my grade's lockers I had the lowest locker and I would need to bend down. This made the boys touch me and grab me. I tried so hard to defend myself and my pride but by the end I began to believe them. I remember thinking "Maybe they're right, maybe I am a slut and I haven't realized it." My mum ended up finding out and she told me that I can't let them beat me. I had to go up to my teachers and tell them what my grade had been saying about me. Soon the boys were getting in trouble and it spread like wildfire around my grade and that made my grade hate me even more for getting their friends in trouble. I was so miserable, I felt terrible. I hated my parents at the time for making me tell my teachers. I thought I could handle it, turns out I was making it worse. I let people walk all over me. Then I read your diary and I was so inspired. Reading it made me realize that I wasn't alone. I found it on Christmas eve, and I had finished it by Christmas morning. Honestly that was one of the best things I could get for Christmas. It made me realize that I'm not alone and there are others out there who have gone through what I have and recovered perfectly.
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