The UnSlut Project
  • HOME
  • ABOUT
    • PRESS
  • SHARED STORIES
    • MORE STORIES
  • SHARE YOUR STORY
  • BOOK
    • MY DIARY >
      • WATTPAD
      • TUMBLR
  • FILM
    • WATCH NOW
    • PURCHASE
    • DISCUSSION GUIDE
  • RESOURCES
People of all genders and backgrounds, from all over the world, have shared these experiences to demonstrate how the issues of sexual assault, harassment, and "slut" shaming affect our lives. Use this collection to expand your understanding and share it with those who need to know they're not alone.
​
​Reproduction in whole or in part is prohibited.

Categories

All
Abuse
Alcohol
Bullying
Clothing
Diary
Drinking
Family
High School
LGBTQ
Lies
Married
Masturbation
Middle School
Mother
Name Calling
Name-calling
Party
Pregnancy
Racism
Rape
Religion
Rumors
Self Harm
Self-harm
Sex
Sexual Assault
"Slut" Shaming
Social Media
Spanish Language
Suicide

SHARE YOUR STORY

I am 28 years old now. I really don't think I can ever trust a man again.

10/17/2019

 
I was 17 when I first met him. He was tall and extremely handsome, well spoken and had just finished his CPL (Commercial Pilots License) training. But I thought nothing of it, till few months later we met at my university. He was a charmer. But there was no connection. I had never had a boyfriend before and just wanted to concentrate on my education. He invited me to join him and his friends to watch Joe Satriani play and since JS was one of my favourite musicians, I didn't refuse. From then on, his friends became mine and our social circle emerged. Few weeks after my 18th birthday, my mum told me his family had asked for my hand in marriage. (It's quite normal to have an arranged marriage in my culture. I am part Pakistani and part Indian.) My father wasn't too keen but my maternal family pressured my mum into getting my dad to agree. I said yes. He was extremely caring and thoughtful at first. He would drive me to university and even pick me up. On the weekends we would hang out on campus. However, I wanted to do things on my own and he didn't like that. We hadn't had sex. We were Muslims and I thought Muslim girls should have sex after marriage. (I was not taught this by my parents, though.) He would get sad if I suggested we should not hang out every weekend as I wanted to study and sometimes hang out with my other friends. At first I thought he loved me and wanted to be with me, but slowly I began to realise, he's actually controlling me. One weekend I went home to my parents and texted him to say so. He replied Okay.xx and I thought nothing of it. But when I went back to campus, I realised nothing was okay. He was angry and abusive and I couldn't understand why. 'How dare you go without my permission?' By then, he had isolated me from most of my friends, and the ones which still stayed around were his best buddies. I felt trapped and abused. I told him he was scaring me and he would always make promises to not do it again. He would promise to build my dream home, take me on trips to anywhere in the world; we are not taught to look at these behaviours as signs of manipulation. But soon, it wasn't verbal anymore. My best friend invited me to a halloween party and I dressed up. As soon as he saw me, he dragged me by my arm and pushed me into his car. In the car he slapped me. That was the first time he had hit me like that. I didn't know who to tell. I felt if I told my parents I would be in trouble. I am not sure why I thought that because my parents were both feminists. But I was scared. I was an 18 year old, scared to death by a man who she was engaged to marry. However, the next day he was apologetic again. The same evening, he came into my place and started to touch me. We had kissed, but this was more intimate and I told him, I didn't want to have sex. That was the first time he raped me. And it went on for 2 further years. Every day he would make me give him a blowjob. But his real pleasure came from me blowing him whilst crying. If I didn't cry, he would slap me and continue to slap me till I did. This stopped only when my father found out. You see, my ex fiance was not a British citizen. He was here to study and was originally from Pakistan. When my father found out and confronted him, he left England and went back to Pakistan. It took me 6 years before I dated again. Only to be emotionally be traumatised again. I am 28 years old now. I really don't think I can ever trust a man again. - Maheen Najeeb

Comments are closed.
    Picture
    MORE SHARED STORIES
    EVEN MORE SHARED STORIES
  • HOME
  • ABOUT
    • PRESS
  • SHARED STORIES
    • MORE STORIES
  • SHARE YOUR STORY
  • BOOK
    • MY DIARY >
      • WATTPAD
      • TUMBLR
  • FILM
    • WATCH NOW
    • PURCHASE
    • DISCUSSION GUIDE
  • RESOURCES