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In my survival story, "Just Words, Dirty Words", I shared so much and I brushed over an experience with a male gynecologist. It was a much bigger deal that I let on because it had triggered my previous abuse as an adolescent on my first job. I wonted other girls and women to understand what is not okay for a gynecologist to do. It was not until after it happened that I realized the full impact. I realized I had let myself be victimized again without trying to stop it. I felt self-loathing and anxiety. I write this letter to that opportunistic predator. You broke your oath. You betrayed the trust. You are terrible! I have done research on what a breast and pelvic exam is supposed be like and understand you used the framework to sexually assault me. I was late for the appointment to get birth control at the university clinic when I had just moved for college. You let me in even though you had no nurse chaperon, it seemed that you might have sent them home after putting me in the room. You are a man and that is against policy. We shared our first eye contact and I ignored your lust and first glance flirtation. You saw I was vulnerable and needed something from you. You told me as a new patient you have to do a full first visit exam. Now I believe you may have lied. I nodded and put down my guard. When you returned I was undressed wearing a paper smock for a false sense of security. I was self conscious even though I had impeccable hygiene and grooming but worried I was not fresh enough so late in the day because you were a man and you made it sexual. You examined my breasts with no gloves. I said nothing. I knew you were massaging them for you pleasure. You went on for five minutes like that. I think five whole minutes while you kept talking. When my boss used to molest me just seconds was plenty to make me feel sick and used. He would sit on my torso, compressing my ribs to the point I could not take a deep breath and have sex with my breasts and he usually took less time than you. do remember you used the words “wonderful” and “amazing” when commenting on by breast health. We could both smell the musk from down below from stimulating me like that. I was embarrassed. You should have been the one ashamed! You mentioned the textures and gave some instructional anatomy to pretend it might be official. You asked random questions and you shared personal stories like it was a date. All the while you were groping my tits like a pervert. Both hands at the same time! I tried to cover for you by pretending like this was not insane and not a sexual assault. You were twice my age and your mustache was ridiculous. You finally moved on to the pelvic exam. You said the words, “Very nice” when you lifted up the paper drape to help my feet into the stirrups. That is not appropriate when viewing a patient’s vagina for the first time. You explained every step from “I’m going to touch your thighs now” to “take a deep breath as I insert the speculum”. That part was quick but then you explained the manual exam that you did for too long. You inserted two fingers to check for cervical motion tenderness but rubbed my clitoris with your lubricated thumb as you did so. That was wrong! You explained that you were going to move your other hand to check for tenderness of my ovaries to check for infection but kept working your other hand on my clit and inside me. You put what felt like three fingers in me! You were sexually assaulting me again. Breaching my trust. Ignoring you oath. As a last indignity you felt for masses in the space between my vagina and rectum. You left your thumb in my vagina while you put a finger in my anus and moved them both back and in and out explaining you thought you felt something for a second but it resolved on massage, meaning it was nothing to worry about. You raped me! That was rape! I looked it up and what you were doing is a real part of an exam but no gynecologist had done that before then or ever since! Instead of leaving the room while I dressed you stayed and helped by holding out my clothes! Totally inappropriate! You should not have a medical license! Sure I let you, and I cooperated, and even tried to endure it and put on a pleasant face. I was a different person then and you just continued my cycle of being abused by men. But the anus part was where I felt true terror and wanted to get out. You gave me a business card with your name on it and told me to call and ask when you were working to schedule next visit. Then you only wrote me for 1 refill on 30 day birth control! Like I would even come back to be assaulted again. You smug abuser of power and trust! I left with you thinking I enjoyed that and would see you again!!! You make me want to scream and pound on things! It was delayed, but my abuse anxiety was triggered that night, and days after. I will never see a male gynecologist again. Your lust and greed is not better than that of a rapist. You broke my trust in the medical system and I still get anxiety at any doctor visit. Just because a girl’s reaction to abuse is not instant, because of some survival mechanism, does not make it any less painful. Sometimes even more, because we feel guilty for not being strong and assertive. You were in a position of authority and abused it so badly. You should be ashamed, doctor! You should be in prison!

In my original shared story, IT STARTED WITH MY BROTHER, I talked about my abuse from a bird’s eye view. It was my abuse life as I was able to share it at the time. I have been working up to sharing 3 instances of rapes that I only avoided by allowing the men to take what they wanted instead of fighting. The most traumatic of the three incidents I mentioned involved a police officer. This is that account. I was pulled over on my way home from a study group as junior at the university on a week night. We had shared two drinks toward the end. I DO NOT condone driving and drinking but I was not drunk, as the breathalyzer later confirmed. I was pulled over and already had the nerves associated with that, amplified by the fact that I was under the legal drinking age for another three weeks. That is when I first met the cop I will just call SIK. He gave me a creepy vibe when I first saw him and that never stopped. Still, I flirted with him to an extent desperate to not get it huge trouble. He had me get out of the car, take of my hoodie, under which I only had a basic sports bra. It was only sixty degrees or so that night. I was cold and shivering from fear and the temperature. I saw him look at my body with no filter. Another cop car pulled up with two officers while I was doing the field sobriety tests. He had already searched me in an uncomfortable way. One of the officers who arrived was female and also searched me after he had said I had some problems with the sobriety tests. Walking backwards on an imaginary line heel to toe was the only thing I had trouble with. It is hard! The female cop brought out the breath test I had asked for. I blew 0.035. That is less than half the legal limit. At that point SIK said he was just going to follow me home, rather than arrest me, and the other car left. The whole stop took maybe an hour. Cars drove by on the side street I had pulled onto. Headlights and tail lights in the dark. After the other car left SIK talked to me more harshly and threatening than ever. He said a girl like me is probably used to getting away with everything. He asserted that he could still take me to jail anytime he decides as as he takes me home and makes sure I am safe everything I do is still a test. He could bust me for possession of alcohol and I would lose my license. I was scared. I told him my roommate was home. She was a student too and was supposed to be there. After following me inside my apartment I called out for my roommate. Then I checked her room. She was not there! SIK then accused me of lying to a police officer and locked the deadbolt from the inside. He made me stand with my hands on my own dining room wall with my legs spread. I wanted to call her so he could talk to her and confirm she was usually there, but he stopped me and made me just text her to see when she would be home. He gave instruction not to ask or say anything more and checked before I sent it. She was at her sisters and would not be back until late. At that point he took off his utility belt and put it on my kitchen counter. He told me after all he had done for me was no longer free, since I lied to him. His gun was right there next to us. He made sure I saw it and he even twisted it so it was pointed toward me. I was scared and pleading with him. I really was willing to do anything. I am not sure but I think I told him that. He radioed from his shoulder thing that he was taking a “lunch” break. What I definitely remember was when he said he was going to do a proper strip search this time, down to full nudity and asked if I agreed to that. At that point I no longer had a doubt what was happening. I made the mental adjustment but what he did was more than I had prepared for. He gave me vulgar compliments about my body as he blatantly molested me. He kneaded my breasts like dough. He fingered me as asked if you could use a special appendage he had that went farther in. I knew what he meant. I was repulsed but I agreed. After the initial eager sex with me still having my hands on the wall leaning forward he slowed down. I had been hoping it was almost over but he decided to prolong it. He commanded me to my bedroom. He took off all his clothes besides his socks. He complemented his own anatomy and made me agree. His member was well above average in size but I doubt, if he had not had a wedding band on, that he would ever get to use it. He was half bald, had a prominent eyebrow like a neanderthal, and a pale beer belly with lots of moles all over his body. He had a mustache and goatee that did not completely hide his poor complexion that looked like he had scars from severe acne. Almost all men all taller than me but he was short and only towered over me by a few inches. Never had I lied bigger than when I told him what he wanted to hear about being sexy and wanting him. The only truth was about his large penis. SIK spoke a lot, mostly degrading me and confirming that I agree with him. Cliche stuff, like me being a whore, slut, dirty, and liking what he made me do to him, but also asked about my sex life and abuse history. He wanted me to say that my dad and coaches abused me, but I would not lie about that. Instead I told him some of the truth about my brother abusing me. That was probably the worst part. Saying out loud to SIK what I never used to admit to anyone, for his great pleasure, harmed me. That was worse that the physical stuff. Worse than making me kiss him during parts of it. He was also cruel. He tried to gag me and push all the way down my throat while he made him do oral. He pushed my ankles behind my head while he pounded me with his abusing thrusts. I could see the cruel lust in his eyes. I could see his wicked smile. He slapped my face many times, just not very hard. He did spank me hard. He realized he had me captive and vulnerable to his whim and he was finally living his darkest fantasies. I was doing anything he wanted and encouraging it because I wanted it to stop. So many times he stopped himself right before he was going to climax! He did not want it to end. SIK tried to have anal sex with me and I was accommodating him but he was just too big to fit. I was crying during most of this out of pain but trying to act like an eager partner to make it end. I later thought that might have prolonged it. SIK was probably the time that would prefer I suffer more, like I was being raped instead of hiding my pain. It was not much longer than twenty minutes but it was so bad and I relived it so many times in my mind before I got smashed drunk and high the next night after work. So the memory lived much more prominently in my head than a simple 25 minute encounter. I do reach climax easily, but I never had one orgasm from him because of his preference for causing sexual pain. When he suddenly released inside me he got quiet and barely said another word as he dressed, gun belt and all, and left quietly. I have no idea what that meant. It scared me. I was afraid while driving for a while, and avoided sleeping at home as much as I could, which sometimes meant sleeping with men and even male friends just to not go home. It was the main reason I did not renew my lease and moved it to a smaller apartment by myself. This was the same roommate whose father had already slept with me without my initial blessing. I did tell my roommate a short version of it and she reacted like it was cool story. I did kind of tell it that way, as a way of dealing with it. The easy path of least resistance. To not admit it may have been the worse sexual thing to happen to me. The true worst things that happened to me in my college years were broken hearts from losing men I loved. But those are stories for a different forum. I don’t put my heart out there to be trampled anymore. This incident was one of the wake up calls that stood out as an omen for me to change my whole lifestyle and try to salvage myself. It was also one of the things that took me the longest to mention to my therapist even though I thought about it during sessions.

I was just 10 years old when a family member decided it was okay to play "doctors and nurses with me" it was then when he started to sexually abuse me. I was so oblivious to what was going on, I didn't realise how wrong it was until I grew older, I thought it was normal as he was doing it to his sister too. I was told not to say anything it was a secret between us 3. I blocked it out of my memory until I left school, well I believed a blocked it out, but looking back now I think that is why my behaviour was so defiant. I was just always told I had ADHD/Autism was why I was naughty, but looking back now I think its because I still had to see his face. I eventually disclosed what happened to me once I had left school to a friend, someone I trusted. I needed to tell someone and that's when I really realised how wrong it was and it really hit me. It's surprising how something you push to the back of your mind and block out can really affect you psychologically still. I have 0 confidence and still don't know, I feel worthless, like a failure and I never feel good about myself, I really struggle too. When I disclosed my abuse to someone, it all went so fast, they helped me tell my parents and then my mum helped me reach out to the police. The local police in my area let me down, I realise I had no evidence, because it happened when I was 10 many times, but I still recall what happened, I was brought to a safe house where I had my interview, I felt violated all over again. the questions they asked me, it brought everything back. It didn't even make it to court the police came to the conclusion that it was "JUST A GAME BETWEEN TWO KIDS" they believe there was no maliciousness behind it - A Game - These words have stay with me since then and I can never shake them off, it was not just a game he knew what he was doing, he understood and had full capacity of what he was doing to me. He didn't even make it onto the register, even though he was doing it to his sister as well. The worst part is going though it at such a young age, then having the courage to speak out and then not being believed and told it was a game really affects me to this day, even though I don't like to show it does, I'm very much a girl who makes jokes and smiles all the time to get past the trauma, even having dark humour to cover up the hurt I feel inside, I have always let this abuse, being SA'd affect me. I can't have Sex with men, I feel broken and damaged, I want to be able to have fun but every time I go to have fun I close up and I physically struggle to have sex with men, and when I do have sex with them I do it to make them happy because I feel so bad about letting t hem down and failing as a partner. Maybe I haven't moved past my trauma as much I think I have. I think I still have a lot of healing to go. I recently encountered something at work, which again I was let down people that I thought would help me, I feel so hurt and so Alone. A couple months ago I was working in my local hospital It was my favourite job, I was helping people through chemo and there cancer treatment, I was, as many of my patients called me 'Their little ray of sunshine on a gloomy day' ☀️. I was working on a night shift and was approached by an agency worker who start talking to me, and me being me was nice to him and talking away, like I do with everyone I am a very friendly person and he took my being nice as a invitation to try it on with me, which I said no thank you. and he continued to touch me, and at one point got his man hood out which again I said 'No' he grabbed my hand to touch it, which I continued to say no, he told me keep to down, stay silent and feel what I was doing to him, I tried pulling my hand away. I went numb and started to just shut down. Luckily saved by the bell, someone was needing assistant and we were the only two working so he went and answered the bell and told me he will come back later, at the time I was heading on my break too sleep in the staff room, I was terrified to sleep, even though I locked the door so he couldn't get in I was so upset about what just happened, he said he would follow me home. I told the nurse in charge what had happened and he was moved to another ward in the hospital. They told me in order to do anything I need to write a statement and they could involve the police but I would have to go to court, do a statement, re live what happened, face him, which at the time I was just to traumatised to do because I wasn't believed last time anything happened and I couldn't face him, he was banned from the hospital and was not allowed to work in healthcare establishment after that, he then disappeared no one knew where he went or where he was. I took a few days off work for 'Mental health' as I got 'triggered' (I word I don't like to use) and I got penalised because of it. I have recently lost my job and I tried to fight my corner and had a tribunal due to me being off for sickness, the head of nursing turned around to me in the tribunal and told me 'Being off sick for the 'alleged sexual assault was not a good enough reason'. Again making me feel absolute shit as if she didn't believe me and my reason for being off which I only took a few days off to just try and sort my head out and find my worth made me feel like my reason was not validated and even if I was to take anything further regarding the SA in the hospital, they would not of supported to me anyways. Every day I am constantly having a battle in my head about being good enough. I get scared and also feel like I shouldn't share my story because what happened to me isn't half as bad as what some people have gone through. Did I lead them on? If only I wasn't too scared to speak up? Did I flirt with him or make him want me? questions I ask myself daily... I know I was only 10 but when people who are meant to be people you can trust and have authority tell you its a game, it does make me question still now to this day was it a game, a game that hurt me, and made me feel very uncomfortable and a game I didn't like, but still just a game between two. Law and Order and Olivia Benson (Mariska Hargitay) has saved my life, oddly it is my comfort show and helps me through some dark times and helped me understand and also know that it is wrong what happened to me. I also learnt its okay to share your story and it is always good to speak out about it, don't feel you're a burden or you're worthless, you are never alone there Is always someone out there that will be there for you. I am on a journey like everyone else that has suffered and been through some dark times and I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel and I am not alone, I think sharing my story will really help me feel less alone, I hope more people are able to speak up even if it is just through this. You are not Alone <3 sorry for such a long post

It took me years to come to terms with what was really happening. When I was 9 years old, I met a boy online, and we quickly became friends. We knew everything about each other - He was 15 when we first met. When I was 10 and he was 16, he asked to be my boyfriend. Being a naive 10 year old girl I said yes. I can’t be mad at her for that. It was innocent at first. Just what you’d expect from a childhood relationship - “I love you, goodnight.” “Hope you’re doing okay.” “Let’s play some games together!” The only difference was that one of us were nearly an adult. Someone who should have known better to not even THINK about being romantically involved with a 10 year old girl. However, it went sour. He started talking to me about sexual subjects. Stuff I wasn’t at all familiar with. He’d make us roleplay situations, what he’d do to me if he got ahold of me in real life. Asking for photos. Guilt tripping me for seeming “off” or uninterested. I began to feel distressed at the time, but I was so young, that wasn’t really an emotion I had felt before. I told myself, this sick feeling must be love. That must be why I feel so nervous, why I feel knots in my stomach when I see his name pop up on my screen. I was very attached to him, at least I thought I was. I was always picked on in school and the few friends I had were awful to me, so he was my only real friend. My worst fear was somehow losing him, and he must have known that I thought that. He took advantage of that, and would guilt trip me at any opportunity to make sure I did whatever he wanted me to. After a while, he broke up with me, but we were still very much so “friends”. We would talk everyday, and he was still just as inappropriate and creepy with me as he was before. Throughout the years, he would begin to talk to me about worse and worse stuff. He explicitly told me about his attraction to children, and that he worked as a teaching assistant in a primary school. I tried to brush it off and keep it at the back of my mind, but I got to tipping point last year when he started to pressure me into meeting with him in real life. It went on for 7 years. I hate to say it, and it makes me sad for the little girl that I was, but the rest of my childhood was stolen from me. I’m 17 now, about the same age he was when we met. The thought of EVER saying the stuff to a 10,11,12 year old that he did makes me feel physically ill. I still haven’t fully processed what happened to me, but I’ve been working on it. I’m yet to cry, at least properly, about it. The thing that sucks about this is that this went on for so long, that it felt completely normal. The people in my life who know all cried when I told them. It felt unfair, really - that they could cry about it. And I’m just stuck in a mindset I’m desperately trying to get out of where this is normal, and I feel completely numb. Recently, I decided I wanted to do something about it. I went to the police. This night, I sent off old screenshots of conversations between us to a detective working on my case. It’s terrifying, being that vulnerable. But I feel obligated to do it. The thought of him being around children all day makes me sick. I don’t care if he doesn’t go to prison - as long as he’s never near a child again I’ll be happy. That’s why I’m doing it. I won’t let shame and embarrassment stop me from doing this, and I especially won’t let my brain tell me he doesn’t deserve punishment. Because that’s exactly what he’d want me to think, too.

Im struggling to get my head around what to do and who to speak to. I was comfortably asleep and cuddling my boyfriend and had my head kind of on top of him, i woke up slightly and he was moving my hand to his crotch that was h*rd and at that point i was wide awake with my eyes still closed wondering what he was doing, i opened them a little and pretended i was moving in my sleep but he kept on using force moving my whole arm and hand to touch him and i didnt know what to do so i was still and he took out his phone like he was gonna take a picture. He knows i wouldnt want to do that and I dont know what to do or how to feel, i confronted him about it when i ‘woke up’ and i was in shock shaking, we were arguing and he started crying and long story short i ended up comforting him. he never truly said sorry once and i just feel lost because i have so much love for him but i genuinely never want to be with him again but the thought of never speaking to him again hurts me, and i know he wouldnt live without me. which is what scares me because im the only one there for him, i dont know what he would do without me. i just need help on a decision please im feeling very alone in this.

when i was 5 my family came from Nigeria and as soon as they came my uncle which is just 4 years older than me kept touching me he would say things like lets play mums and dads and then will hump me and say that's what mum and dads do or will slap my bum and kiss on my neck it was quite odd to me everytime they visited this will happen he will say stuff to me like we play vampire game to rub on my private parts and kiss my neck and chest when I was 9 or 10 I travelled with them to another country but he just got worse he nearly even tried having s*x with me he would rub his penis on my private parts and kiss and slap my bum his sister who was younger than me also tried doing the same i recently found out she did it with my sister and cousin . this made me very hyper sexual at a young age and I would constantly use my body to get what I wanted it affects me a lot he texted me a few weeks ago and said he was a child and I should respect him because he's older than me and forgive and forget this is seriously ruining my life as my mum doesn't believe me and because I got caught doing things with my body she believes I initiated it or liked it...

mum was at work and my brothers were in the garden playing football with each other as dad had sent them outside so i could watch my show. Dad and I were sitting on the sofa, I was lying on his chest and he had one arm around me (right hand, disabled one) and the other was stroking my hair (left hand). He began to put his hand near my private parts, I squirmed slightly as it was uncomfortable, he chuckled to himself and whispered to me “it was normal for a father to show his daughter some love.” So I tried to relax. eventually excused myself to the bathroom but he followed saying “he didn't want me making a mess”. When I walked in I took my trousers down and he pulled me closer to him, his grip was rough and it hurt (I yelped a bit), he began to touch my private parts and I tried getting away again as his touch was uncomfortable and his grip was still hurting. At one point he pulled his trousers down and guided my had to his private parts making me touch them, he told me he was showing me love and i believed him, he said if I touched him he would give me a treat and love me more as well so I began to do it willingly. He asked if he could take a photo of me “for some friends” and then did it anyway, not giving me a chance to reply and fight back. about a minute later, my brother called dad because he was losing and dad was annoyed. He washed his hands and went out to josh. Later he returned with some chocolate and a ‘drink’. From what I remember of the smell it was beer of some kind but as a kid I didn't notice, he did this as a reward every time. It wasn't long before dad got kicked out, I was alone with him in the kitchen. He was annoyed at me as I had tried to tell someone about him, and he was punishing me. i was trying to go to mum and he had grabbed me tightly, i was terrified, he was towering over me and i had nowhere to hide. He walk over to the side and grabbed a knife holding it to me, i began to apologize to him over and over, he made me bow to him and call him ‘master’ . He seemed to find joy in threatening me. I wanted to get away from him. That night he still attacked me and beat me but I was too afraid to scream. He ended up using the knife to cut himself on his legs while telling me it was my fault he was hurting himself because I didn't love him anymore. I offered to touch him because I wanted him to be happy again. He accepted and I did it, after that I kept offering when we were alone to keep him happy. I didn’t tell anyone about him touching me because I thought I would get in trouble for offering to touch him. When mum kicked him out I was scared he was going to kill himself because I couldn't make him happy anymore. I still feel guilty for that night as if i would have not tried to tell someone it wouldn't have happened.

Hello, I'm a young female I'm here to share my story of surviving domestic abuse and emotional abuse including rape, I also had a rough childhood being abroad when I was young and I was physically bullied by young boys, I still remember being physically kicked in the stomach and having my hair grabbed and pulled into lockers, large garbage bins and brick walls, knowing that no one will help me or support me while this is happening, what hurt more is your mother is seeing this happening, I am extremely quiet and reserved person and this was the start to my horrible life, I came back to UK and I was teased and picked on theough out the whole of my life, and back then I just turned 20 years and got my first boyfriend I've never had a boyfriend before so I didn't know the signs of a good relationship and a bad relationship, after a couple month my boyfriend turned into this sweet caring person into this controlling, Manipulative and emotionally abusing me, he refused me seeing any of my friends, at any cost I am a huge gamer fan and if I played games with my friends he would call me Constantly to make sure that all my focus is on him, I was slowly losing contact with my friends, to the point he was the only person I was allowed to talk, and then he forced me and pressured me to getting a implant to stop pregnancy, I was didn't want the implant or to have sex with him I was completely petrified of him but he started shouting and getting physically close if I didn't do it so out of fear I went to get the implant in, I still didn't want to have sex with him, fastward to my 21st birthday it was the big day I was 21, and my boyfriend forced me to come to his house so we can spend sometime with him and he asked me if the implant was in effect amd I told him yes which now after years of looking back I regret saying yes to him, he pushed me down the bed and forcing kissing me and touching me I was pushing him to get off but he grabbed my throat so I couldn't scream or say anything, he used his weight against mine and forcing my clothes to come off he then pinned me down so I can't fight back and particularly raped me on my birthday and the amount of pain I was in after him forcing himself on me and that I pretty much in so much pain and sore from the experience I was Traumatised of someone who I trusted who I would die for would do such a thing, after the experience I was bleeding non stopped of the sexual assault, I couldn't say anything of this with my family because of the Generation difference, the abuse Continued after that, I remember him holding my hand to the point it went from him squeezing my hand so hard and refunsed me talking to anyone not even to my best friend at the time, and he would hit when no-one was around, fastward to Valentine's day me and boyfriend at the time we went out to celebrate I was already scared of him but I must comply to his demands we were going into the restaurant and forbid me to eat and he was the only one to eat food and get me to paid for the food he ate as well, I refused to pay for the food and without any warning he so hard in the face which knocked me to floor with my eyes watering I paid for the food, to my horror that no-one would step in and protect me just sat there staring at me for this experience, we both left and I went home and I had to remind that nothing happened and even hiding my face from the trauma of being hit, Continued to remain normal with my family, the next day we both spend all evening 5 hours on a voice call but in Silence no one would say a thing in the call until one evening when I was wanted to be alone and have a quiet evening so I ended the call but to my surprise my boyfriend called me right back swearing and yelling and even shouting at me for ending the call without his permission, as this maybe me even more petrified of him and was scared of him no matter what mood he was in, and one day me and him were hanging out with his place and I bought him some food and he had a go at me for getting him the wrong food and turned his back to me until I came back with the food he wanted, so I did returned while a special request with the shop owner that is what he wanted and he came back with the item I wanted for him and I paid and walked out and I got back and showed and he grabbed the item from me not even thanking me for going through that trouble and and I was on edge with him the the rest of the time I was there, he turned around and started kissing me and I told him no I was feeling a bit under the weather and feeling sore he back off turning his back to me then all a sudden he turns and grabs me and pinned me down and started sexually assaulting me, as I was crying from the pain, after a whole year of this abuse as I ended it with him, I was so petrified of him because he was so angry when I ended and then he started accusing me that I was cheating on me which I don't believe in cheating I've never believed in it, and he still continues to accusing me of cheating, which I denied this was happening and he would pick fights with me I was so scared of him already but I continued to stay strong because of my family then he would started using pictures of me I was wearing dresses which owned and started saying I was Exploiting or showing guys that I wanted s*x from.them which was not true and the worse of it my mum was already manipulated by him and she told me off because of he was saying when she didn't even let me explain and I've never felt alone, I couldn't tell anyone of my experience of abuse and sexual assault to my family because they would judge me saying this my fault and I let this happen after ward two weeks he started trying to Stalk me on dating websites to try and to control who I was seeing under his control and the next day my friend decided for me to travel on another bus then him and we both sat down and he then suddenly got on the same bus, I was so scared at this point where I was shaking and my friend was distracting me and when we got off my stop my friend came with me to make sure I got home safe, and I saw the bus leave my friend and me were waiting for my mum when to my horror my ex came charging at me with his hands on the air and the rage in his eyes and tongue out and started having a go at me saying I have explaining to do when I have no explanation to him he didn't deserve my explanation as my Friend started talking to him and telling to go to the police about his state then he walked off and my mum arrived and took my friend home and we got home and that I've never been so scared after a couple of weeks the last thing my ex boyfriend said to me after walking past me on my normal bus and he quickly said to me "I must go die" and how this guy has ruined my life, after 9 years going on 10 years I've been pretty much alone not being able to talk to anyone amd this guy is able to kill me with the way he use to hit me and assault me thinking he was in the right, so after 9 years going on 10 years I have reminded in hiding and I live in a different county now but the effects of this still remain after the whole year of his abuse as affected me for the rest of my life, i even ended up in another relationship with a guy but he was the exactly the same as my first ex and now my trust is completely destroyed in my life and now I will still be friends with men but no longer get close or even start a relationship with any men, I am now left with PDSD, my anxiety is through the room, I suffer with flash backs of his abuse, but I still haven't told my family of the abuse I went through amd I still hear the word my last ex told me to go die, but I can tell you now I've done this courage to write out for people to hear my story and if your going through is your not alone and if i managed to get out of two abusive relationship you can as well amd it's been a real eye opener for me and since ive been alone I've never felt so safe because no one can hurt me unfortunately I do suffer with crying outburst or extreme mental breakdowns because of this abuse amd trauma. And this is my story

I will not longer live in fear for my self and my sons life. I will no longer be told how ugly and fat I am. I will no longer have him put his hands on me. I will no longer allow bruises on my face. I will no longer let this happen to someone else. I was in a situation where I couldn't leave for a long time and couldn't ask for help. The most fear I have ever been in in my life. But I have a 3-year-old son and NO ONE will ever hurt him the way they hurt me. I am putting a stop to being the victim and taking back control in my own life. One thing that I learned that is the most important to me... Is that you're never alone, and you are beautiful!

When I was 12, my ex situationship on his 13th birthday got his friend to rape me while he got off on it bc he didn’t want to do it with a virgin. he would then, months later continue to slam my head into walls, punch and hit me, and strangle me. said really horrible things. n yeah, i’m now 19 and at uni trying to be successful with good people in my life so healing is possible. it’s difficult and not linear but there’s so much more out there

I had been really good friends with this boy for 3-4 years and I was talking to him about how upset I was that I had just ended things with this guy I really liked. My 'friend' then started being like flirty with me so I thought he was doing it to cheer me up and just went along with it. He then proceeded to ask me questions that were making me feel uncomfortable like "if it was just us two in a room for 24 hrs what would we do" and "if we got together what would we do" and I just tried to blow it off and say oh yh just hugs and movies or something like that because I didn't know what to say. He then asked to meet me at the park after school so I can clear my head and talk about things so I agreed but he was being very secretive about it but I just brushed it off because I kept telling myself that its just a friends thing. When we got to the park we sat down on one of them circle swings and he started to kiss me, at this point I was like wtf but just carried on bc i didnt know what to do or say. When he was kissing me he kept covering my nose and my mouth with his mouth so i literally couldnt breathe so i started like hiding behind his shoulder in hope that he would just give up. He then started to grap my boobs and tried to go down my pants which I then told him "Stop I am not comfortable with that", he carried on anyway and then he tried to make me do stuff to him (I had never done anything to a guy at this point so i literally didnt know what to do anyway). Even after i told him to stop doing that or stop making me do that countless times, he carried on. After a while I said I needed to leave bc my grandparents are over and gave him a hug goodbye and after that i instantly called my bestfriend and just started crying over the phone to her.

We were friends. That is what I told him when he tried to kiss me when I was drunk. He smiled and said he understood. We were friends. That is what I told him when I agreed to sleep off the alcohol at his as he insisted it wasn't safe for me to walk home. I felt a sense of relief and comfort when he smiled and said he understood. We were friends. That was what was running through my mind in those seconds that felt like hours when I slowly awoke to his hands down my pants and his soft moaning. We were friends. That was what I screamed as I ran out of his flat. We were friends. That is what I repeated to our social circle that relentlessly placed blame on me for being to 'flirty' or 'leading him on.' We were friends. The realisation that took time to reconcile and fully conceptualise. My perception of the world now shaded with nefarious hues. We were friends. That is what I told myself when I began to enjoy life again. A fleeting moment overshadowed by a watchful eye and a sense of alert that never really leaves me. We were friends. That is what I told myself when I took on the shame that wasn't mine to bear and made me doubt what I knew happened to me. We were friends. That is what I told people when I began to share my experience. Every word feeling like a toss of a stone I had carried around for far too long. We were friends. That is where I find my empowerment. The deepest violation of trust and respect, and yet, I survived.

I had settled into a new workplace and made friends. We had a social night out at a local beer festival and I was very drunk, we returned to one of my colleague's houses and carried on! I got to the point of no return, climbed up the stairs to throw up in the bathroom and saw an inviting bedroom door open, vaguely remember crawling into the bed and passing out. I don't remember much that happened after as I was at the point of unconscious drunk due to mixing alcohol with anti-depressants (stupid in hindsight) however I certainly didn't invite anyone to come in to my room. I kept rousing slightly due to feeling someone on top of me (I was asleep on my front) and I wasn't able to lift myself up to push them away. My face was pushed into the pillow, I was vaguely aware of my jeans taken down and the sensation of penetration but was unable to do anything to stop the person. The next day I knew someone had had intercourse with me without my consent, I became increasingly disturbed and had a breakdown at work a few days later resulting in me telling the manager. He insisted on contacting the police, the suspected attacker was arrested. Two other colleagues had found him in the room with me although hadn't witnessed the attack taking place. I gave a video statement of all that I could remember but unfortunately the CPS dropped the case because the Judge stated that the combination of alcohol and anti-depressants would have rendered me in such a state of lowered consciousness that I would be unable to be certain that penetration had occurred. I blame myself for showering and washing my clothes, I felt so dirty and ashamed at the time as I was happily married. Unfortunately the attacker continues to work, helping others in the organization. I just hope he learnt his lesson.

PART ONE: I started to date someone, we i met on a dating app. We video called every day for a month before we met. During that time, i fall for his charms and believed everything he said about himself, although looking back now there was already red flags... for example a couple of lies and not telling me certain details many people wouldn't hesitate to answer in normal situations. When we arranged meeting up, he didn't give me a choice, asking me to go to him. At the time i understood as someone close to him had a personal situation and he needed to be near by. There is a little language barrier because he is from another country, but apart from that the date went really well. He paid for everything and made me feel special. However, things just got weirder... He had told me he was looking for a job, so he was short on money- so i told him i would support when needed, even though i am on apprentice wage myself. At first it started off okay, just little bits of money here and there for little bits he couldn't quite afford. But he started to ask for bigger amounts. i would ask him why he needs that much or if i challenge it because it doesn't seem right, he would manipulate me and use coercion to get to me. Once it worked once, it became and often event, leaving me with no money. It got to the point when it was my time to go to him, i wasn't able to pay for my train. When I told him I was struggling to pay for my trains, he turned on me, gas-lighting and guilt tripping me. This led to me feeling bad and I having to dig into my savings to be able to go and visit him. This became a regular occurrence. (To be continued if possible, the most painful bits I am not ready to share just yet 💔)

When I was 7, I started being sexually abused. This wasn’t by a family member, it was my grans second husband. It all stopped when I was 12, when we moved a few miles away and he didn’t visit as much. When I was 17, I was having therapy for other things, it eventually came out then. They helped me decide how I was going to tell my mum. They also said I should prepare for family members to not believe me. I thought, you don’t know my family. They all stick up for each other. Well so I thought. My mum never wanted to talk about it. I understand now that was due to guilt, she had her own mental illnesses to deal with. My sister, well she turned against me for a few years. Saying I was lying, I tried to ruin my grans marriage with my lies, threatening to beat me up. My sister even tried to prove I was lying buy having him watch her new born baby whilst she went and done his food shop. When this man died, it got worse. My sister and aunt said they can’t grieve over him cause of the lies I said about him. Saying I’m evil and not wanting me near her child incase I do stuff to her. I had cousins asking “what exactly is it he did to you? My gran saying “he’s not a pedophile”. All this almost destroyed me. It was worse than the sexual abuse I had went through as a child. I decided I wanted away from my family. So I enrolled in college at 23, at 27 I was qualified and got straight into a job, I had been saving through college, so managed to move onto my own place pretty quickly. Now 33 years old and looking back I often think, did all that really happen. I’ve since moved further away from my family, Doing this has helped me stay away from their drama and only visit on occasions. They’re a lot better now, but I’d still rather keep my distance. I’m in a good place mentally. I’ve got great friends and built a good life for myself. My advice to anyone going thought it. Prepare yourself for family not to believe you. Only talk about it to people you trust and only when you want to talk about it. Don’t feel you need to explain yourself to anyone. The best thing my therapist said, no matter what you did or didn’t do, it wasn’t your fault. You were only a child.

It was my spiritual teacher. I loved him and trusted him more than anyone. Now I don't feel safe with my faith. My friends were in the spiritual community and ghosted me for seeking treatment. I don't feel safe to leave my room. I have constant panic attacks. I don't recognize life anymore.

I have lived through many battles, some visible and some invisible. Chronic pain has been a constant companion, and alongside it came experiences of assault, grief, bullying, and being overlooked or targeted in the workplace. Each of these left scars that ran deeper than I could admit at the time. For years, I tried to hold it all in — the pressure, the pain, the silence through alcohol and substances. But it built until I couldn’t contain it anymore, and I crashed hard. My mental health episode was frightening, for me and for those around me. What has made it harder is the culture I grew up in. In South Asian communities, mental health is often brushed aside, stigmatized, or seen as weakness. Instead of compassion, I felt shame. Instead of understanding, I carried guilt. I believed I had let down the people I loved most. But I am learning that what happened was not my fault. Trauma is not a choice. Crashes are not punishments. They are the body and mind crying out for care. I am still here. I am learning to see my sensitivity and survival not as flaws, but as proof of resilience. Sharing my story is part of releasing the shame and reclaiming my voice. My hope is that others who have lived through pain and silence — especially in communities where mental health is hidden — can know they are not alone. Our stories matter. Our survival matters.

I knew the man that raped me, he is the father of my daughter which he also strangled. There are two sides to this man, one that's beautiful, loving and very calm and the other that is violent and manipulating. I was too scared to tell anyone because who would believe me. People that I thought were friends saw the smashed glass and the punches above my height on the door. They saw how unwell I became and that I attempted to take my life. It took me months after leaving to realise the extent of what we (me and my children) had experienced. But I left for my children because the truth was I still loved him, but the love for my children was bigger. Going through the courts dare I say is even harder to cope with than surviving the abuse itself. I have met so many amazing people and judges that have been hugely supportive, but sadly also so many corrupt people in that police reports and videos went missing, contact centres that lied which honestly I'm in such disbelief now and the shock itself made me ill. Judges and barristers know each other and gas lighting on a larger scale. I'm totally and utterly terrified and wish I never come forward. I am ashamed to say if I was a reader I would not believe this story. But it's my story to tell, that has imprisoned my life. I don't feel I can trust anyone because so many have lied without real heartfelt thought for my poor children. I'm so very tired of being scared. I'm not alone here in this country there are many of us silenced by the very people that ought to protect us. I desperately want to trust our family courts, but after reading about others going through what we have been through I feel scared about what will happen to my children as my punishment for coming forward. I have one child with this man but 4 children altogether. No one will really know what we survived only now to be at risk of having the remaining time of their childhood further stolen. How naïve I have been.

No more feeling shame. The shame is my abuser's to bear. I was in an abusive relationship 7 years. She would Yell and throw items around the room. Tell me who I can and can't see, and where I could go. She would degrade me by playing on any insecurity I had. If I questioned her motives I was gas lighted to change my way of thinking. She would smack my chest and call it play fighting. She would convince me "I'm the only one who is looking out for you" she monitored where I was and how long I was there. I would hid in the bathroom, because I was terrified of her. She would convince me to cut people out of my life. She would manipulate me emotionally and physically. Everything was on her terms, she loved that I feared her. No more feeling afraid of speaking my truth. #yournotalone

I was sexully encouraged by a babysitter when I was 9,too inappropriately bathe her and my sisters. None of us felt it was abuse, but just bath time fun. My sisters both bathed me to a point of inappropriate excitement. Confused but not feeling anything wrong,we just carried on,I was going through puberty and I was orgasming every bath time. I still see the woman to this day we talk like nothing happened and my sisters don't mention it.