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These experiences, shared by people of all genders and backgrounds, 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.
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SHARE YOUR STORY

I wanted to die. I felt dirty and believed everybody. I believed that I was a slut.

10/10/2019

 
I’m 15 years old in 9th grade in Northern California. I moved here from the UK last August. Last July, in the UK, I went to a party. I was pretty popular, I had a lot of friends. The boys at this party tried to get me drunk. I had never had alcohol, and I was given lots of drinks that started off being mixed with alcohol, and then became pure liquor. They succeeded with getting me completely out of my senses. About 6 guys made out with me and forced me to touch them, and they touched me. They trampled on me and held me down at points. One guy literally dragged me up the stairs into a room and unzipped my shorts and tried to have sex with me. I told him to not, I didn’t want it to happen. I was on my period. I never found out exactly how close we got to having sex, but it was scarily close. People went round at the party saying that we had sex, and a couple of girls who were my close friends said that I was on my period. I woke up the next day with bruises all over every part of my body and feeling horrible, disgusting. I can’t even find the words to describe how I felt at that time. There had been a Facebook event for this party, and everyone was posting about me on that page, talking about the boy and how he fucked “period girl.” People I didn’t know messaged me calling me a slut and making jokes about periods. I was sent texts by people from my whole school asking if I needed a tampon, or if I was loose enough there already. I wanted to die. I felt dirty and believed everybody. I believed that I was a slut. I was so ashamed, school was hell for me. The worst part was that everyone just didn’t talk about it to me, but no one could hold eye contact with me anymore. I tried to explain to my friends, but they just kind of brushed it off and called me a slut behind my back. I still didn’t tell anyone about what happened, like my mum. But ever since that night I had dreams about that night. I couldn’t stop them, and I was so terrified that I didn’t even know how far we’d been. My nightmares were hell. I want to thank you because your blog makes me feel like I’m not the only person who has been slut shamed and hasn’t done anything to cause it. It makes me so upset that so many people go through being treated like this. Your entries are great, I’m so glad I found you.

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  • HOME
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  • BOOK
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