Find Answers to Your Questions ~ Our Wave Community

Question 1

Can I write a poem instead of a story on the platform?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for reaching out, and yes, absolutely, you can.

After harm, it's common to feel unsure about what space you're allowed to take up. This space is yours, and you don't need permission to use it in whatever way is most helpful for your healing.

Poetry is one of the oldest ways people have made sense of pain. Overwhelming experiences can be hard to put into words. They often live in the body more than in sentences. Poetry makes room for that. It doesn't demand logic or a clear beginning and end. It holds fragments, images, and feelings that don't need to be explained. Many survivors find it reaches something a journal entry or conversation can't.

You don't need to write well or clearly, or make sense to anyone, even yourself. Your poem can be messy, dark, hopeful, contradictory, or unfinished. You can write around the edges of something painful or straight into it. The point isn't the finished product. The point is giving what's inside you somewhere to go.

If you'd like to share what you write here on Our Wave, we'd be honored to read it. Someone else might recognize their own experience in your words, and that sense of not being alone is part of how healing moves through a community. You can also keep it entirely private. A poem that's just for you is just as whole.

We're here, and we're listening. Thank you for being here.

Question 2

Is it normal to feel so much guilt and shame even years after the rape I experienced at the hands of my then boyfriend? He has lied and deceived me and that has added to my trauma. I also have incomplete memories of the event that I cannot remember clearly.

Accepted Answer

Thank you so much for sharing your experience with us. It is not uncommon for survivors of sexual violence to experience lingering feelings of guilt and shame even years after abuse, especially when the assault was perpetrated by someone they trusted such as a partner. Particularly if there are complicating factors such as deceit and memory gaps, making sense of and managing this shame can be especially difficult.

Sexual harm violates physical, emotional, and sexual integrity and is thus notorious for perpetuating shame in the aftermath for survivors. In fact, research has shown that sexual trauma whas been associated with higher levels of shame than other traumatic experiences, with some studies finding that up to 75% of survivors experience trauma-related shame after these experiences.

If you are still experiencing feelings of shame, you are not alone. Shame thrives in silence, so thank you for being brave and sharing that shame with us. Remember that abuse is never your fault, no matter what the circumstances.

I encourage you to talk about this shame with someone you trust when you are ready. If there is no one in your life that you trust with those emotions right now, you may want to seek supportive counseling or find a space where you can meet other survivors, as their stories of how they have managed their shame may give you the hope you need to keep going and ideas on how to move forward. You may also consider separating yourself from people who trigger your shame, if they are still active in your life. This can help you forge a path forward.

To learn more about how you can cope with the incomplete memories you have related to this event, read our previous FAQ here.

We hope this helps. Thank you for sharing this experience with us. You are not alone.

Question 3

I don't want to believe I was assaulted as a young child because I know this person very well and can't see it in them to act this way but I can recall details and have vivid flashbacks. What should I do? How do I seek help for this?

Accepted Answer

Thank you so much for trusting us with this question.

To start, you are not alone. It is quite common for individuals who are processing childhood trauma in adulthood to feel confused, frightened, and frustrated. It is also common for survivors to not want to believe what happened to them was real. Only you know what you have experienced, but here are some of our thoughts below.

It is unfortuntely very common for individuals to know the person who harmed them as children. In fact, around 90% of childhood sexual abuse survivors were harmed by someone they knew, loved, or trusted. Often, these people are people who on the surface might not stand out as an abuser or predator. Many may be well liked or respected in their social circles-- that's often how they gain access to groom or harm young people.

Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust, or emotional connection with a young person or their family so that they can manipulate, exploit, and abuse them. Signs of grooming often include:

1. Targeting the young person

2. Building trust with the young person and their family

3. Isolating the young person

4. Initiating sexual abuse and securing secrecy

If this sounds like what you experienced, then it would make sense why you feel so confused. Remember no matter what happened, it is never your fault. Honor the feelings you are having.

It is also not uncommon for memories of childhood trauma to emerge in adulthood and for you to want to seek help for this experience now. In fact, around 70% of child sexual abuse cases are thought to be disclosed during adulthood. Survivors of childhood sexual abuse often have difficulties speaking up about their experience and remembering exact details. Sometimes ‘forgetting’ becomes your brain’s way of surviving and coping.

If you are now remembering details or having vivid memories, it might make sense to try to work through those with a trained mental health professional. You will want to find a therapist who specifically specializes in trauma or posttraumatic stress disorder. You could also reach out to your local rape crisis center. These centers are typically free of charge and can direct you to resources to support you. Once you have some more answers, you can then decide what you would like to do next.

If you have additional questions or want to begin talking through your experience now, you can reach out to the National Sexual Assault Hotline which is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week: Terms of Service - Online Hotline (rainn.org) . They will listen to what you have to say and will direct you to resources in your local area.

It can be very disorienting to process a traumatic experience that happened when you were a child. While the feelings that you are having are not uncommon, it does not make them any less painful. Trust your gut and honor all the emotions that come along the way. Recognize you have a community of survivors behind you. You are not alone.

Question 4

I have a memory from when I was young where my dad let me rub his chest to help me fall asleep. I'm not sure how to feel about this memory or whether I should try to forget it. How do I deal with this?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for trusting us with this memory and these difficult feelings. It is completely normal to feel unsure about a confusing childhood memory, especially when it revives strong emotions or discomfort.

At four to seven years old, you were still learning about boundaries and appropriate touch, and you depended on the adults around you to guide and protect you. Children naturally seek comfort and closeness in many different ways, and needing soothing touch to fall asleep is completely normal developmental behavior. Many children find comfort in tactile experiences, and parents often allow various forms of physical contact that help children self-soothe and feel secure. Chest contact can be particularly comforting for children due to the warmth, heartbeat, and closeness it provides. Having a memory of this experience and feeling uneasy now does not make you flawed or mistaken; it reflects the natural process of recalling early experiences and questioning what they meant.

It's also completely normal for memories to surface unexpectedly, sometimes years later. Our brains sometimes bring up memories when we're trying to make sense of our past or understand ourselves better. The fact that this memory has come up now doesn't mean something was necessarily wrong...it may simply be a moment your mind is revisiting as you process your childhood.

If you find yourself unable to stop thinking about this, it might help to talk with someone you trust, such as a counselor trained in understanding childhood experiences, or even a close friend or family member who respects your feelings. Sharing the memory in a supportive environment can offer the validation you may need. It can also help you sort out why the memory is resurfacing, how it affects you now, and what steps feel right to manage any lingering distress. You are not obligated to forget or dismiss something that makes you uncomfortable. You deserve the option to explore these feelings in a compassionate way, at a pace that feels safe for you. Sometimes, just acknowledging the memory and allowing yourself time to reflect can bring some relief.

Remember that you were a child at the time, with little understanding or control over the situation, and what happened was not your fault. You deserve care and acceptance as you decide whether, and how, you want to deal with this recollection. You get to decide what this memory means for you, and your feelings, whatever they are, are valid. Thank you for trusting us with this. You are not alone.

Question 5

Why is incest so prevalent? It feels like it's everywhere once you start looking.

Accepted Answer

Thanks for asking this. It's a question a lot of people find themselves sitting with and the feeling that it's "everywhere once you start looking" is not in your head.

The honest answer is that intrafamilial sexual abuse is far more common than most people realize or are willing to say out loud. It is also one of the least reported forms of sexual violence, which means the numbers we do have are almost certainly an undercount. Of sexual abuse cases reported to law enforcement, 34% of juvenile victims were abused by a family member, and about 90% of child sexual abuse is perpetrated by someone known and trusted by the child or the child's family. Those figures only capture what gets disclosed and documented. The real prevalence is higher.

The reason it's so common comes down to many unfortunate things. Families provide the exact conditions that sexual abuse requires to take root: close physical access, built-in power imbalances, and a structural expectation of privacy that the outside world tends to respect without question. A child doesn't need to be physically threatened to feel unable to say no or to tell someone. The wish to keep the relationship intact, fear of breaking the family apart, emotional and financial dependence, and the authority of the person causing harm all act as invisible walls. Coercion in families often doesn't look like coercion from the outside, which is part of what makes it so hard to interrupt.

Grooming makes this even more complex. Grooming is the process by which a perpetrator selects a vulnerable person, gains access and isolates them, and then builds trust with the child, their family, and the surrounding community, moving the line so gradually that it becomes nearly impossible to name when the line moved at all. Within families, grooming gets woven into everyday caregiving and affection. The person causing harm is often also the person a child depends on for love, safety, and basic needs. Survivors frequently describe not being able to name what was happening even to themselves, sometimes for years. That confusion is a direct result of how grooming works, not a reflection of anything you missed or failed to do.

There is also a real mechanism behind why these patterns can carry across generations. When children grow up in homes where sexual boundaries are absent or distorted, their nervous systems develop without a clear internal template for what safe intimacy feels like. They may not have a reference point for recognizing harm because nothing in their environment named it as harm. Research consistently shows that children abused within familial contexts delay disclosure significantly longer than victims of strangers or acquaintances. A major reason is that the abuse was so embedded in ordinary family life that it took a long time to develop language for it. When distortion is never addressed and no one intervenes, the conditions for harm can persist into the next generation. This provides some context for understanding how silence compounds over time.

Finally, research shows that nearly three quarters of intrafamilial abuse survivors who did disclose reported receiving a negative reaction, with non-offending family members more likely to respond by not believing the survivor, distracting or distressing them, or retaliating. The family unit gets treated as something to preserve, and that instinct can override protecting the most vulnerable people within it. When abuse isn't reported, it isn't counted and the silence is part of what keeps the true prevalence hidden.

Thank you so much for asking this. You are not alone.

Question 6

A boyfriend a long time ago asked me to perform oral sex on him, which I did with hesitation. I very clearly told him not to ejaculate, and he agreed — but then did anyway. It's a moment I have never forgotten, and I feel so confused by it. It has affected my intimacy ever since. Was this assault or abuse? I feel like I need a term to describe what happened to help me move forward.

Accepted Answer

Thank you for trusting us with this question. The confusion you're feeling, the lasting impact on your intimacy, and the need to find language for what happened all make complete sense. The fact that this moment has stayed with you for so long is meaningful, and your instinct to name it sounds like it might be an important part of your healing process.

What you're describing involves something really important: you set a clear, verbal boundary, he agreed to it, and then he violated it. Consent is not just about agreeing to a sexual act...it also includes the specific terms and limits someone communicates within that act. When you said no to ejaculation and he agreed, that was a boundary that deserved to be honored.

It's worth acknowledging that physiologically, ejaculation does have a point of no return and sometimes there is a brief moment where the body takes over and stopping becomes genuinely difficult. In that narrow sense, the final moment itself may not have been fully within his control. However, what matters most is everything that led up to that moment. He knew your boundary and had agreed to it, which meant the responsibility was on him to communicate before reaching that point-- to stop, to check in, to prioritize what you had clearly asked for. The failure to do that, regardless of what happened in the final moment, still reflects a disregard for what you asked for.

In many legal and advocacy contexts, this kind of violation (where the terms of consent are not upheld during a sexual act) is recognized as sexual assault. Some people also describe experiences like this as sexual coercion or intimate partner sexual violence. You are allowed to use any of these terms if they feel true to your experience, and you are equally allowed to call it a violation, a betrayal, or whatever language feels most honest and useful to you. There is no single right word, and you get to decide what fits.

What you're describing about intimacy being affected afterward is a well-documented trauma response. When a boundary is crossed by someone you were intimate with, especially one you stated out loud and had confirmed, it can fundamentally shift how safe your body feels in vulnerable moments. That kind of breach doesn't just affect how you feel in the moment. It can also reshape your sense of safety, your relationship with your own body, and your ability to feel present during intimacy for a long time afterward. This is not an overreaction. It is your nervous system responding to a real violation.

Finding language for what happened can be a meaningful step forward. Words help us organize experiences, communicate them to others, and access the right kinds of support. You deserve support that helps you reclaim a sense of safety and trust in your own body and boundaries. Thank you for trusting us with this. While only you can label your experience, we hope this information was helpful.

Question 7

A couple years ago, I had an experience at a family gathering where someone entered my room while I was heavily intoxicated. My cousin interrupted what seemed to be a sexual encounter, but didn't fully understand the situation. At the time, I was too impaired to process what was happening. Recently, I've started feeling anxious about this incident and believe I was taken advantage of. My family doesn't seem to understand the impact it's had on me. How can I address these delayed feelings of distress and find support to process this experience?

Accepted Answer

I want to start by acknowledging the courage it takes to reach out and discuss such a difficult experience. What happened to you was not your fault, and your feelings of distress and anxiety are completely valid, even if they've emerged some time after the incident. It's important to understand that delayed reactions to traumatic events are common and are a normal response to an abnormal situation.

Your experience at the family gathering, where you were in a vulnerable state due to intoxication and someone took advantage of that situation, is a serious matter. The fact that you were too impaired to process what was happening at the time doesn't diminish the impact of the event. It's understandable that you're now grappling with feelings of anxiety and the realization that you were taken advantage of.

It can be particularly challenging when family members don't seem to understand or acknowledge the impact this experience has had on you. This lack of support can feel isolating, but please know that your feelings are valid regardless of others' perceptions.

There are several paths you can consider for addressing these delayed feelings and finding support. Speaking with a therapist or counselor who specializes in trauma and sexual assault can provide a safe, non-judgmental space to process your emotions and develop coping strategies. They can help you navigate the complex feelings you're experiencing and work towards healing.

Support hotlines and organizations in your local area dedicated to helping survivors of sexual assault can also be valuable resources. They offer confidential support and can connect you with additional services if needed.

Remember to be patient and gentle with yourself as you navigate this process. Healing takes time, and it's okay to take things one day at a time. In the meantime, try to prioritize engaging in activities that promote your mental and physical well-being, and consider practices like journaling to help process your thoughts and feelings.

You are not alone in this. What happened was not your fault, and there are people and resources available to support you through this journey of healing and understanding. Your feelings are valid, and you deserve support and understanding as you work through this experience. Thank you for reaching out to us.

Question 8

I'm trying to understand consent in the context of child-on-child sexual abuse (COCSA). I believe I experienced something like this, but my memories are unclear about when exactly it happened or the specific details of the incident. How do we understand agreement or consent when it involves children? I'm struggling with this uncertainty and trying to make sense of my experience.

Accepted Answer

Thank you for asking this. When we think about consent and children, it's important to understand that young children cannot truly consent to sexual activities - they don't have the emotional or developmental capacity to understand and make those decisions. Even if a child appears to "agree" or doesn't actively resist, this isn't true consent. To learn more about COCSA specifically, see our blog here.

Memory haziness around traumatic or confusing childhood experiences is very common. Our brains sometimes protect us by making certain memories less clear, especially from childhood. Not remembering all the details doesn't make your experience any less valid or real.

It's also common to question experiences from childhood when we look back as adults. We might wonder if something really "counts" or if we're remembering it correctly. This questioning often comes from trying to make sense of experiences that happened before we had the framework to understand them.

What matters most isn't whether you can remember every detail or whether you verbally agreed or disagreed - what matters is how the experience has affected you and continues to affect you. If you're feeling confused or troubled by these memories, that's reason enough to take your feelings seriously.

If you're trying to process these experiences, please know that there are trauma-informed therapists who specialize in helping people understand and heal from childhood experiences, even when the memories aren't completely clear. They can help you work through these questions at your own pace, in a way that feels safe for you. Thank you for reaching out to us about this. You are not alone.

Question 9

I recently remembered my perpetrator, who I had just started dating, sort of apologizing after he raped me. He cursed himself, calling himself a "bastard," but didn't fully admit what he'd done. He then told me I was "amazing and special." Was he feeling shame or manipulating me? Do perpetrators often use manipulation to avoid consequences? Also, when I've tried to speak out about my experience, I've gotten very negative reactions. I thought I was helping other women, but now I feel more guilt and shame for talking about it. Is this normal?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for sharing this deeply personal experience. What you've been through is incredibly difficult, and it's understandable that you're grappling with distressing emotions and memories.

Regarding your perpetrator's behavior, the situation you're describing is complex and confusing. His self-deprecation, vague apology, and compliments could be due to a mix of shame and manipulation. Some perpetrators might feel momentary remorse, while also trying to avoid consequences. The "apology" without fully admitting wrongdoing, followed by compliments, could be seen as a manipulation tactic. However, it's important to remember that you're the expert of your own experience. Trust your instincts about what happened and how it made you feel.

Your observation about perpetrators often using manipulation to escape consequences could be accurate in many cases. Remember, if manipulation occurred, it's not your fault. These are choices made by the perpetrator. Perpetrators often use various manipulation tactics to avoid responsibility, maintain control, or prevent the survivor from seeking help. These can include:

Gaslighting: Making you question your own memory or perception of events.
Minimizing: Downplaying the severity of their actions.
Blame-shifting: Trying to place responsibility on you.
Love-bombing: Showering you with affection or compliments after the assault to create confusion.
Playing the victim: Expressing self-loathing to elicit sympathy, as you described.
Threats: These can be direct or indirect.
Isolation: Attempting to distance you from your support network.
False promises: Vowing to change without taking real accountability.

These tactics can be subtle and may occur in combination. They're often designed to create confusion and self-doubt. However, trust your instincts about what happened - you know your experience best.

Regarding speaking out about your experience, it's disheartening that you've faced negative reactions. It takes courage to share your story, and you deserved support and understanding. Unfortunately, it's not uncommon for survivors to face such reactions. Society often struggles with the reality of sexual violence, and people may react with disbelief, victim-blaming, or avoidance. These reactions can lead to feelings of guilt and shame in survivors, even though you've done nothing wrong.

Your desire to help other women by sharing your story shows great strength and empathy. However, it's also okay to step back if speaking out is causing you more harm. Your healing and well-being should be a priority. Feeling guilt and shame after disclosing assault is common, but try to remember that these feelings don't reflect reality. You're not responsible for the assault or for others' reactions to your disclosure.

Consider seeking support from a therapist specializing in sexual trauma or a survivor support group if you feel it might be helpful. These can provide safe spaces to process your experiences and feelings without judgment. They can also help you recognize and cope with manipulation tactics you may have encountered.

Remember, healing is a journey, and it's okay to focus on what feels right and safe for you at each step along the way. Trust your instincts and be gentle with yourself as you navigate this healing process. Your feelings and perceptions are valid, regardless of what anyone else says or does. Thank you for reaching out to us. You are not alone.

Question 10

I'm feeling really anxious and unsettled after a night of heavy drinking and cannabis use, during which I have memory gaps. I realized I was intimate with someone I don't fully trust. How can I safely process this experience and these feelings?

Accepted Answer

Thank you so much for trusting us with this and I am so sorry this happened to you. What you're feeling right now makes complete sense, and it's important to honor that your nervous system is responding to something that feels confusing and distressing. Memory gaps are particularly disorienting because they leave you without a full picture of what happened, and that uncertainty on its own can be really difficult to sit with. You don't have to have all the answers about what occurred in order for your feelings to be valid.

When substances are involved and memory is fragmented, it's common to feel a complicated mix of emotions, sometimes all at once...sometimes in waves. It's worth knowing that substances like alcohol and cannabis can significantly impair the ability to make clear decisions and to give or understand consent, which means the context surrounding what happened matters deeply. You don't need to label or define the experience right now if you're not ready to. What you can do is allow yourself the space to feel what you're feeling without pressure to resolve it all immediately. You don't have to solve every question about that night in one moment.

Giving yourself some gentle time and space to process these emotions can be a meaningful first step, even if that just looks like finding a quiet, comfortable place to sit. Grounding yourself in the present can also help when anxiety feels overwhelming. Simple things like focusing on your breath or naming five things you can see or touch can help your nervous system settle enough so that you can process without feeling flooded. Journaling can be another valuable tool...not to analyze or reach conclusions, but simply to get the swirling thoughts and feelings out of your head and onto paper. You might also consider confiding in a trusted friend, letting them know you're experiencing anxiety and memory gaps and that you're worried about the dynamics of what happened. Just naming these concerns out loud often provides relief, because it reminds you that you are worthy of validation and support.

If you continue to feel distressed or suspect you were harmed, speaking with a trauma-informed therapist or advocate can give you a structured, non-judgmental space to untangle what happened at your own pace. It might feel scary to consider, but they understand how confusing these gaps can feel and can help you work through it without any pressure. The National Sexual Assault Hotline (1-800-656-4673) is available 24/7 and offers confidential, compassionate guidance. It can be a first step if you're not ready to talk to someone you know.

No matter what, please remember that you were deserving of safety throughout that night, and the way you are feeling now does not mean you did something wrong. Be as gentle with yourself as you would be with a dear friend walking a similar path...you deserve that same compassion. Thank you for trusting us with this.

Question 11

I have memories from early childhood (around 3-4 years old) of my older sister initiating sexual contact with me. She asked me to perform oral acts on her, would kiss me unexpectedly, showed me explicit movies she found, and I thought this was normal. I had similar experiences with other children at parties where they would kiss me or engage in inappropriate touching. As an adult, I struggle with consenting to sexual acts I don't want to do just to please others. My sister recently apologized for kissing me as a child, but I don't think she remembers the more sexual aspects. How do I process these childhood experiences and their impact on my adult relationships?

Accepted Answer

Thank you so much for sharing your story with us. What you're describing sounds extremely confusing to process and we appreciate your trust.

As a young child, you couldn't have fully understood what was happening or the implications of those actions. Children naturally follow the lead of those around them as they learn about the world, particularly from older siblings or peers. They often don't have the context to understand sexual experiences or the ability to meaningfully consent, even with other children. The fact that you "played along" doesn't make it your fault. At that age, it's normal to trust and follow the lead of those close to you, especially family members.

It's also important to acknowledge that your sister may have been influenced by things she was exposed to, such as the illicit movies she found. Children who initiate sexual behavior with other children have often been exposed to sexual content or experiences themselves, though not always. She might not fully remember or understand the extent of what happened between you both. Her recent apology indicates that she's beginning to process these events as well.

The pattern you describe of consenting to unwanted sexual acts as an adult to please others is a common response among people who experienced sexual boundary violations in childhood. These early events can shape how we perceive relationships and boundaries, making it challenging to assert our own needs and desires as adults. This pattern can develop because early experiences taught you that your role was to accommodate others' sexual desires regardless of your own feelings. This is not your fault, but rather an adaptation your mind created to navigate confusing experiences.

Remember that you are not to blame for what happened. The responsibility lies with the adults who should have provided guidance and protection. The feelings of confusion, shame, and the tendency to prioritize others' needs over your own are understandable responses to your experiences.

Healing from these experiences often involves working with a trauma-informed therapist who specializes in childhood sexual experiences. They can help you process these memories, understand their impact on your current relationships, and develop healthier boundaries around consent. Many people find that with support, they can develop a stronger connection to their own desires and needs, making it easier to engage only in sexual activities they genuinely want.

Please know that your experiences are valid, and the impacts you're feeling are real, regardless of whether everyone involved remembers events the same way. You deserve understanding and compassion, both from others and from yourself. Healing takes time, but you don't have to go through it alone. Thank you so much for trusting us with this. You are not alone.

Question 12

After being sexually abused, I noticed I became hypersexual. I'm still dealing with that, and I feel guilty about it. My question is: should I feel guilty for experiencing hypersexuality with someone I like, including having intercourse with them without a formal relationship? I'm from India, and I know that carries a different weight culturally, and that makes the guilt even heavier.

Also, there's something else that weighs on me. Someone made a video of me while I was drunk. In the video, I'm saying things like 'put it in' and I'm moaning and touching them, but I don't actually remember doing any of that or agreeing to being filmed. I don't remember saying those things. Is it still rape if I was participating in the video even though I was too drunk to remember?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for trusting us with something this personal and this layered. The confusion, the self-doubt, the weight of what you saw in that video, all of that is real and it is a lot to process.

Let me start with the question that matters most and deserves the most direct answer: Yes. What you described is still rape.

Consent means your mind is aware, clear, and free to make a real choice. When someone is intoxicated to the point of having no memory of what happened, that ability is not just reduced. It is completely gone. The fact that you have no memory is itself evidence that you were not in a state where real consent was possible. What your body did during that experience, words spoken, sounds made, physical responses, none of that counts as consent. Your body can respond to touch on its own, the way your knee jerks when a doctor taps it, without your brain being present enough to make any decision. Any words you said may have come from a place of such deep impairment that you were essentially reacting to cues around you without any real awareness. This is something that is well understood and documented in trauma medicine. It does not mean you wanted what was happening. It means you were not present in any meaningful sense to want or not want anything.

The fact that you do not remember saying those words, and yet you can see yourself saying them, is itself a sign of how impaired you were. Memory requires a level of consciousness. You were not conscious enough to form memories. That is incapacitation, meaning your ability to make decisions was completely taken away by how intoxicated you were. The person or people in that video had a responsibility to make sure you were capable of consenting. They did not do that. That responsibility was theirs, not yours.

Researchers use the term freeze and fawn response to describe what happens when the body goes into survival mode during an assault. In that state, the body may comply, cooperate, or even speak, not because the person is choosing to, but because the nervous system is doing what it can to protect itself. Many people who experience sexual violence find that their bodies responded in ways that confuse them deeply afterward, and that confusion is one of the most isolating parts of processing what happened. You are not alone in this, and what your body did does not change what was done to you.

But there is something more here that matters equally. Someone made a video of your assault. They documented your violation without your knowledge or consent. That is a separate crime. A violation layered on top of the violation. Your body and your suffering were turned into content. That video exists, and that fact, all by itself, is profoundly traumatizing. The shame of that does not belong to you. It belongs entirely to the person who made the choice to record it.

If that video still exists, your first step is to find out where it is and what your options are for its removal. You may have legal remedies available to you. You deserve to know if you can take action.

Now, about hypersexuality, which means a noticeable increase in sexual thoughts, feelings, or behavior, and whether you should feel guilty.

You heard correctly that hypersexuality is a common response after sexual abuse. It is widely documented. After something is done to your body without your permission, the mind sometimes reaches for sexual experience on its own terms as a way of taking back a sense of control, seeking connection, or trying to process what happened. For some people, the nervous system gets stuck in a state of heightened activation after trauma, meaning it stays on high alert, and sexuality can become a way of managing overwhelming feelings, searching for closeness, or even finding proof that the body still belongs to you. None of that means something is wrong with you. It means your nervous system is doing something that many, many people experience.

On the specific guilt you are asking about, having sex with someone you like without a defined relationship, you are allowed to pursue intimacy in whatever form feels meaningful and consensual to you. Two people choosing to be physical with each other, both clear-headed and willing, is not something to be ashamed of. What matters is whether the intimacy you are choosing feels like yours, whether it feels like something you are moving toward rather than something pulling you under. If it feels good and chosen and connected to someone you genuinely like, that is not something to feel guilty about.

If guilt is present, it is worth sitting with where it is coming from. Sometimes it reflects what we were taught about sex and self-worth. Sometimes it is the leftover shame from what happened to us, shame that was never ours to carry in the first place. And if you find that hypersexuality sometimes leaves you feeling empty or more disconnected than connected, that is worth paying attention to, not as a moral failing, and as information about what you might need.

A trauma-informed therapist, meaning a therapist who understands how trauma affects the mind and body, can help you understand what your nervous system is seeking and find ways to meet those needs that feel grounding rather than destabilizing.

The responsibility for what was done to you belongs entirely to the people who did it. You get to come back to that truth as many times as you need to. Thank you so much for trusting us with this. You did not deserve what you experienced. We are here for you.

Question 13

I was in a relationship in my late teens and early twenties where my boyfriend regularly guilt-tripped me into having sex or sexual acts. At the time I thought this was normal, but looking back now, 20 years later, I'm not sure it was. The confusing part is that sometimes I fully consented and sometimes I didn't — and I still can't get clear on what was actually okay and what wasn't. I carry a lot of shame about the times I did consent, or even times I enjoyed it. I think this has shaped how I approach relationships and sex ever since. I feel uncomfortable and ashamed when it comes to sexuality, and I wonder if my difficulty with boundaries in later relationships comes from this. Even with therapy, I'm struggling to get clarity. How do I move forward?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for trusting us with this. Twenty years of quietly carrying something that never quite made sense, and now beginning to find words for it, is not a small thing.

Being regularly guilt-tripped into sex or sexual acts is an act of coercion. Coercion works through emotional pressure, making you feel that saying no will cost you something, wearing down your resistance until a yes finally comes. That kind of pressure doesn't produce genuine consent, even when the word yes is eventually said. Real consent means feeling free to say no without facing emotional consequences. Guilt-tripping removes that freedom.

The fact that you sometimes fully consented does not cancel out the times you didn't. Both things can be true at the same time. A relationship is not either all harm or all fine. Genuine connection and harm can exist in the same relationship, sometimes in the same moment. The coerced moments don't erase the times things felt right, and the times things felt right don't make the coercion okay. Holding both truths at once, however, can be very difficult.

Your confusion makes complete sense. When harm is woven into something as intimate as a relationship, when it comes from someone who was supposed to care for you, your mind has difficulty sorting it into clean categories. You were young, still forming your understanding of what relationships should feel like. Your confusion is not a sign you're overreacting. It's a sign you experienced something genuinely complicated.

What you're experiencing now (e.g. the difficulty with boundaries, the shame around sex, the relationships that haven't quite worked) these are not character flaws or signs that something is broken in you. When you learn early on that your discomfort doesn't matter, that saying no has a cost, that sex is something you owe rather than something you choose, those lessons settle into your body and nervous system. They shape what feels normal, what feels safe, what you expect from intimacy. This is not your fault and it's not permanent.

Clarity often doesn't arrive all at once. It comes in pieces, sometimes with grief alongside it. Grief for what you deserved and didn't get. That grief is real and belongs here.

Two specific therapy approaches may be useful as you navigate this going forward and I would encourage you to talk to your current therapist about them. EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) helps your brain reprocess stored painful memories so they lose their emotional charge. Somatic Experiencing works with what your body holds rather than only what your mind can articulate. You might ask your current therapist if they have training in trauma-focused methods, or consider a referral to someone who specializes in relational trauma and sexual coercion.

Rebuilding trust in your own boundaries means learning to recognize your own signals again. A boundary isn't selfish or aggressive. It's information about what works for you, what feels safe. Start small. Notice what feels right in your body and what creates hesitation. Pay attention to moments where you feel a small "I don't really want to" and practice trusting that signal in low-stakes situations first. When you're with a partner, check in with yourself before you decide. Not everyone will like all your boundaries, and that's information too.

I hope this helps even a little. You are not alone and naming what happened is an important step in your healing journey.

Question 14

About a year ago I went on a second date with someone who was in my brother's year at school, so we knew some of the same people. We were sitting in his car in a public area and he kept kissing me. I told him I felt uncomfortable because it was busy, and when he asked if I wanted to go somewhere quieter, I said no. He kissed me again, but this time started touching me sexually. I tried to subtly move his hand away, and when that didn't work, I told him directly to stop and that I wasn't into it, and he did stop. Afterward, he kept saying I was going to accuse him of assault and get him in trouble with people we both know, including my brother. He told me it was my fault he was aroused, made jokes about having to "sort it out himself" because I wouldn't help, brought up people I'd been involved with before and asked if I'd let them touch me, asked if the real problem was that I didn't find him attractive, and then started talking badly about himself until I felt like I had to comfort him. Because he stopped when I asked, I told myself it couldn't have been assault, but it has stayed with me, and lately I keep thinking about it. I don't know if I'm being dramatic.

Accepted Answer

Thank you for trusting us with this. You're not being dramatic. Delayed distress like this is common and it usually surfaces once your nervous system finally has enough safety and space to look back and process what happened.

Let's separate two things, because it sounds like you are carrying multiple things at once. First, the touching itself. You'd already declined to move somewhere more private and shown discomfort through your body before you ever spoke. He touched you sexually anyway. Stopping when you directly told him to matters, but stopping is the floor, not the ceiling. It's the bare minimum, not proof that nothing happened before it. Consent isn't just the absence of a clear no. It requires an ongoing, freely given yes, and that line was crossed before you had to say a word out loud.

Second, what happened after sounds like it could be its own kind of harm. It appears that he blamed you for his arousal, accused you ahead of time of planning to report him, brought up your past to imply your limits with him were unfair, and then acted in such a way that you ended up comforting him instead of the other way around. That last part is a form of emotional labor, meaning you were doing caretaking work for the person who'd just harmed you. Researchers call this whole pattern DARVO: deny, attack, reverse victim and offender. It sounds like he was shaping the story of what happened before you'd even decided what to call it yourself, which might be why you spent a year unsure whether you were allowed to be upset.

Experiences like this are often harder to sit with than ones with a single clear moment of force, precisely because there isn't one thing to point to. There's a sequence, and part of that sequence was designed to make you doubt your own read of it. That's not a flaw in your memory or your judgment. That's the manipulation working as intended, and it wearing off now, a year later, is a sign you're seeing it more clearly, not that you're overreacting.

Whether you call this assault is yours to decide, in your own time. What happened in that car was real and it was not okay, whatever label you land on.

For a next step, write out the sequence of events like you just did here, then read it back later this week without his voice layered over it. If you want to talk it through with someone trained in exactly this kind of hard-to-name situation, RAINN's hotline (1-800-656-4673) and online chat at rainn.org are free and confidential.

Thank you for reaching out to us. You are not alone.

Question 15

How do I deal with a close friend who sexually assaulted me? On two occasions a few years ago, he didn’t ask for consent, and I went along with it because I didn’t feel safe saying no. I didn’t think it would happen a second time. At the time, I dismissed it and told myself I just wouldn’t go to his house again, but that we could stay close friends. Earlier this year, we had an unrelated argument that brought out anger in me, and the memories of the assault came back. I can’t dismiss it anymore. I haven’t spoken to him in months because I’ve been avoiding the conversation, and now he’s left me a message saying the uncertainty is hurting him. I have no clue what to say. How should I respond?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for trusting us with this. You are not overreacting, and you are not late. Feelings about sexual assault can surface on their own timeline, and there is no deadline for when you're "supposed" to be affected.

You said you went along with it because you didn't feel safe saying no. That response is very common, and it says nothing about what you wanted. When our brains sense threat, they often choose whatever response seems most likely to keep us safe in that moment, and sometimes that means going along with something, staying quiet, or freezing. These are survival responses, not choices made freely. Not saying no is not the same as saying yes. Consent means a person freely and willingly agrees, and that can't happen when someone doesn't feel safe enough to refuse. You also said you didn't think it would happen a second time. That reflects the trust you had in him. It is not a failure on your part.

It makes a lot of sense that you dismissed it at the time and found a way to keep the friendship by deciding not to go back to his house. Many survivors do this, especially when the person who hurt them is someone they care about. Setting something aside can be a way to keep functioning, keep the relationship, and keep the peace when facing the full weight of it feels like too much. That isn't weakness. It's your mind protecting you in the only way it could at the time. It's also very common for those feelings and memories to return later, sometimes years later, when something stirs them up. An argument that brought out anger in you could easily have opened a door that had been closed for a long time. Not being able to dismiss it anymore doesn't mean you're making too much of something old. It may mean you finally have enough space and distance to look at what happened.

You mentioned not knowing whether he's aware of his actions. Many survivors wonder about this, and it can be painful to sit with. People who cause harm don't always see it as harm, and he may have told himself a different story about what happened. At the same time, not knowing is not the same as not causing an impact. You didn't feel safe saying no, and that tells you something important about what was happening between you, regardless of what was going on in his mind. His intentions don't decide your experience, and it isn't your responsibility to educate him or manage how he understands his own behavior.

Hearing that the uncertainty is hurting him may bring up guilt or pressure to answer right away. His feelings are real to him, but his discomfort doesn't create an obligation for you to explain yourself, comfort him, or resolve his feelings before your own. In many ways, you've been protecting him from a hard conversation for months while carrying the weight of what happened on your own. You are allowed to take the time you need.

The fact that you're wondering what to say suggests some part of you is thinking about whether and how to address this. There's no single right answer, and your options exist on a spectrum. You could choose not to respond, and let the friendship pause or end without an explanation. That is a legitimate choice, especially if engaging would cost you more than it gives you. You could send a short message that holds a boundary without going into detail, something like, "I need more time and space. I'm not ready to talk yet, and I don't know when I will be." That is enough on its own. You don't owe him the reason. Or, if and when you feel ready and safe, you could choose to name what happened, either in writing, which lets you choose your words without being put on the spot, or in person in a setting where you feel safe and supported. Some survivors do this not to repair the friendship or to get a particular response, but simply to say out loud what is true. If you go this route, it can help to prepare for the possibility that he responds with defensiveness or denial rather than understanding. Some people find meaning in speaking directly to the person who harmed them, while others find that peace comes from within rather than from the other person's acknowledgment. Neither path is wrong, and you can change course over time.

You don't have to work through this alone. A trauma-informed therapist, meaning someone specifically trained to work with survivors, can help you sort through your feelings, practice what you might want to say, and process whatever comes after. You can also read and reflect in our community here, where others have shared experiences that may help you feel less alone in this particular kind of complexity.

Not being able to dismiss this anymore isn't a setback. It's your own sense of truth asking to be honored. Choosing to sit with what happened instead of setting it aside again takes courage, even if it doesn't feel that way from the inside. Whatever you decide to say to him, or not say, your wellbeing comes first and you get to move at your own pace. We're here, and you don't have to figure this out alone. Thank you for trusting us with this.

Question 16

I still have the sweatshirt that I wore on the day when I was assaulted. It’s very comfortable and I still wear it a lot. Is it healthy that I do that and am I making a mountain out of a molehill about it?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for bringing this here. When you ask whether you might be “making a mountain out of a molehill,” you’re wondering whether you’re making something small into a bigger deal than it really is. We appreciate that you are paying this kind of attention to your inner life. It shows how seriously you are taking your own healing.

There is nothing inherently unhealthy about wearing that sweatshirt. Objects connected to a traumatic experience can carry emotional weight in complicated ways. Trauma research tells us that the nervous system, the part of the body that manages stress and safety signals, holds onto experiences as sensory impressions as well as memories. Smells, sounds, textures, and even the feel of fabric against your skin can become linked to significant moments. For some survivors, items from that day become painful to see or touch. For others, those same items stay comforting and familiar, or even come to feel like a reminder that they made it through. Both responses are real, and neither one means something is wrong with you. You’ve described this sweatshirt as very comfortable. Comfort matters. Soft, familiar things can help the body feel grounded and safe, and reaching for that is a very human thing to do.

Instead of trying to decide whether wearing it is healthy or unhealthy in some abstract way, it can help to gently notice how you feel before, during, and after you wear it. You’re not trying to reach a verdict, just learning about yourself with curiosity instead of criticism. Some survivors notice they feel comforted and present. Others notice a low hum of tension, numbness, or a sense of being pulled somewhere else. Whatever you notice is useful information, and your feelings about the sweatshirt can change over time. That’s normal too.

It would be worth paying closer attention if wearing the sweatshirt ever begins to feel compulsive rather than comforting, meaning it feels like you have no real choice, or that you can’t go without it even when part of you wants to. The same goes for times it pulls you back into distressing memories rather than simply being part of your day. That kind of shift doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. It may just be a sign that some extra support could help. A therapist who works with trauma can help you explore this.

You are allowed to keep the sweatshirt. You are allowed to wear it, set it aside for a while, or let it go whenever that feels right. You are also allowed to feel whatever you feel when you put it on, without needing to prove those feelings are proportionate or justified. Healing doesn’t require a certain relationship with the things connected to what happened. It only asks that you stay honest with yourself about how you’re doing, and that’s exactly what you’re doing by asking this question. Thank you for trusting us with this.

Question 17

When I was younger, I was looking after my cousin, who was a toddler at the time. I remember being curious and touching his private parts for a few moments. I didn’t do it to get aroused. I was just curious about what it felt like. I thought it was a weird thing to do, but it never occurred to me that I was SA’ing him.

When I got older, I realized how bad what I did was, and I’ve been full of shame ever since. I’ve never done anything like that again and never would. I have no attraction to kids. Part of me thinks I was a naive kid with a rough upbringing who didn’t have the tools to make a better decision, but another part of me is sick over what I did and feels like I deserve to be treated like a monster.

My cousin and I are both adults now, and he doesn’t know about this. If he did remember, I would do everything I could to help him heal. I feel like I don’t deserve anything and that everyone would hate me if they knew. Is there anything redeemable about me, and what do I do with this shame?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for trusting this space with something you have carried alone for so long. It sounds like you have already recognized how harmful this was. That recognition matters. Your cousin was a toddler who could not consent (meaning he had no ability to understand or agree to what was happening) and he had no way to protect his own boundaries. Naming that clearly isn't meant to crush you. It is part of what makes genuine accountability possible.

At the same time, the full picture matters for how you understand yourself. You were young, with a rough upbringing and, as you put it, without the tools to make a better decision. That context is not an excuse, but it is genuinely relevant. The parts of the brain responsible for impulse control and for fully grasping consequences are still developing throughout adolescence and into a person's mid-twenties. Young people who grow up in difficult or chaotic environments also often don't receive education about bodies, boundaries, or consent, and they sometimes act out of confusion or curiosity in ways they later understand very differently. Looking back at a younger version of yourself only through an adult lens is not the same as understanding what was happening for that young person in that moment.

There is also a significant body of research on harmful sexual behavior in young people. One of its most consistent findings is that most young people who engage in this kind of behavior do not go on to repeat it, particularly when it was driven by curiosity rather than a predatory pattern. A predatory pattern refers to someone deliberately seeking out and targeting others to harm. What you describe is something that happened out of curiosity, has never been repeated, involves no attraction to children, and has been followed by years of remorse. That looks very different from what people often picture when they imagine someone dangerous. You recognized the harm as you matured, and rather than fading into rationalization, it has stayed with you as real moral weight. You've also said that if your cousin remembered, you would do everything you could to help him heal. That is the posture of someone who cares deeply about the harm and doesn't know what to do with that caring.

It may help to understand the difference between guilt and shame. Guilt says, "I did something harmful, and I need to reckon with that." Guilt can move. It can become accountability, growth, and a commitment to living differently. Shame says, "I am something harmful, I am irredeemable, I deserve nothing." Shame tends to calcify, meaning it hardens and stays fixed, keeping people frozen in a loop of self-punishment that doesn't repair anything or protect anyone. The part of you that feels you deserve to be treated like a monster sounds like shame that has been sitting in isolation for years. Shame in isolation almost never leads to healing. It just gets heavier. Holding yourself accountable and treating yourself with compassion are not opposites, and people tend to grow most when they can do both.

You asked whether there is anything redeemable about you. The question itself is evidence of something. You have lived for years without repeating this harm, you hold what happened with genuine moral weight, and you want to be better. That is not nothing. That is actually quite a lot.

One of the most meaningful steps you can take is to stop carrying this entirely alone. A therapist with experience in shame, trauma, and sexual harm can offer a space to sort through all of this, not because you are broken, but because it is too much to work through without support. It may help to look for someone familiar with moral injury, meaning the deep distress that comes from having acted against your own values, or with problematic sexual behavior in adolescents, since that framing can help you find someone who understands this specific terrain. The Psychology Today therapist finder lets you filter by specialty and includes sliding-scale options, meaning lower-cost sessions based on what you can afford. Stop It Now (stopitnow.org, 1-888-PREVENT / 1-888-773-8368) offers free, confidential, non-judgmental support specifically for people working through harm they caused, including things that happened years ago, and they can explain how their confidentiality works before you share anything.

When it comes to bringing this up your cousin, that decision deserves careful thought, ideally with the guidance of a professional who can help you consider whether reaching out would serve him or would mainly serve your own need for relief. You don't have to figure that out today.

What you did was harmful, and you are not the worst thing you have ever done. You are someone who has lived with remorse, who has never repeated the harm, and who is asking how to move forward with integrity. There is a path between self-destruction and minimization. It is honest, it is hard, and you do not have to walk it alone. We are so glad you reached out.

Question 18

Am I completely anonymous if I share my story?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for asking this before you share. Pausing to understand the space before you step into it shows real care for yourself, and you deserve a clear, honest answer.

When you share your story on Our Wave, you are not required to give your name, your location, or any information that could identify you. Anonymity, meaning the ability to share without revealing who you are, was built into this platform from the very beginning. The people who created Our Wave understood that many survivors can only speak freely when they know their identity is protected. You are in control of what you share. Our Wave does not sell your data, does not share it with outside companies for commercial purposes, and does not share your story with law enforcement. This is a space built for survivors, and protecting that space is central to how it works.

And, in the spirit of giving you the full picture, there are a few things worth understanding. No digital platform can promise perfect, unconditional anonymity. What anonymity looks like in practice depends on a few things: what you choose to include in your story, the technical protections the platform uses, and the environment you are in when you access the site. Names of people, places, schools, workplaces, or very specific events can sometimes make a story recognizable to people who know you or the person who harmed you, even without your name attached. This is not a reason to stay silent. It is simply helpful information as you decide what level of detail feels right for you.

It is also worth knowing that if you are using a shared device, a workplace network, or a location where someone might monitor your internet activity, your browsing itself could potentially be visible to others, even if the story you submit is anonymous. Using a private browsing window and a personal device on a private network, when that is an option for you, adds an extra layer of protection.

Many survivors find it helpful to think of their story in layers. There is the emotional truth of what happened, which is always yours to share. And then there are the specific identifying details, names, places, dates, relationships, which you can include or leave out entirely based on how protected you want to feel. A story does not need to name a person, a city, or a specific event to carry weight and connect with others. You do not owe anyone the details that would put you at risk. Your story can be completely real and still be written with your safety in mind.

Many people who have shared here have described writing anonymously as its own kind of relief. There is something particular about being able to say the full truth of what happened without having to manage anyone's reaction, without worrying about what your family will think or how your community might respond. That freedom is real, and it is available to you here.

If you have specific questions about how your information is stored or handled, you are welcome to reach out directly to the Our Wave team at hello@ourwave.org. You can also read the privacy policy directly on the site. A trustworthy organization will answer those questions honestly, and Our Wave will. You deserve to feel genuinely informed, not just reassured.

Whatever you decide to share, and however much, this community is here to receive it.

Question 19

I’m confused about the way I grew up. When I was little, older adults in my family guilted my younger brother and me into hugging each other naked, and we were encouraged to run around the house nude. That part feels more okay, I think, but the way my dad looks at people makes me feel strange about it. We were also told we were “wrestling” with adult male family members, but it was more like being pinned in sexual positions, and we were offered money like quarters to do it. When I had what we think was a UTI, an adult male family member put cream on me down there with his fingers and said it was for my health. It felt too intrusive. Why couldn’t my mom or grandma do it, or show me how to do it myself? It took too long, and he seemed to enjoy it too much. Growing up, I was also yelled at and called a bitch, and this man would throw things at my dog when he was upset with me. He would run his hands up my brother’s inner thigh even after being told to stop, and he would touch and rub himself through his pants in front of us. Then for my eighteenth birthday, they gave me a bikini. Is this normal? I know it’s not rape, but what is it?

Accepted Answer

Thank you for trusting this space with something so heavy that you've carried for a long time. Your confusion makes sense. When hard things are part of everyday life from the start (and when they come from family) it can be difficult to tell what happened or how you feel about it. Kids usually have nothing to compare their home to. This can make whatever happens there seem normal.

Some things can happen innocently in families, like little kids being naked around the house or a parent helping with medicine. What makes the difference is the situation and what the adult was doing it for. Adults pressuring children to hug each other naked, adult men pinning kids in sexual positions and paying them quarters to go along with it, care that felt intrusive and seemed to be enjoyed, and an adult touching himself in front of children are not part of healthy family life. Many professional and legal definitions of childhood sexual abuse, emotional abuse, and grooming include behaviors like the ones you describe. Grooming is when an adult slowly builds trust, access, or secrecy with a child in a way that makes harmful behavior seem normal. The money is worth noticing. Paying a child for physical contact can make it feel like a trade, and that can leave the child feeling responsible later. You were not responsible. What you call your experience is up to you, and you can change that language whenever you want.

You said you know it isn't rape. A lot of survivors compare what happened to them with something they see as worse and that can feel safer. An experience doesn't have to meet the definition of rape to matter, to affect you, or to be worth getting support for.

You also asked why your mom or grandma couldn't put the cream on you for what you think was a UTI (urinary tract infection), or show you how to do it yourself. It's a fair question, and it still bothers you for a reason. You remember it feeling too intrusive, taking too long, and that he seemed to enjoy it. Kids often sense when touch isn't okay before they have words for it. That sense is worth trusting and exploring rather than talking yourself out of. The same goes for the strange feeling you get from the way your dad looks at people and any unease about the bikini you got for your eighteenth birthday. Sometimes discomfort shows up before we can explain where it's coming from.

Being yelled at and called a bitch, and seeing things thrown at your dog when this man was mad at you, can leave a child feeling afraid all the time. When someone threatens or hurts a pet a child loves, it can scare and control that child, even if that isn't what the adult means to do. Watching him run his hands up your brother's inner thigh after being told to stop may be painful to carry too. Seeing a sibling get hurt, and learning that "stop" didn't count in your house, can leave you with hurt, guilt, or a strong urge to protect him. However your brother sees his own experience, your feelings about what you saw are valid. Kids who grow up in homes like this often learn to shrink what happened so it feels easier to live with, which is part of why the question "is this normal?" can feel so hard to answer.

Whatever you feel about this is okay, whether it's confusion, grief, anger, love for these family members, or nothing yet. Many survivors feel numb when they first look closely at their childhood, because it takes time to absorb. You can feel several of these things at once. You also get to decide what kind of relationship you want with your family, what boundaries you set, and whether you talk to them about any of this. You don't have to do any of those things in order to heal.

Healing doesn't follow a straight line, and you don't have to figure everything out at once. Taking it slow, resting, and leaning on people you trust all count. If you can see a therapist, it may help to find someone who works with childhood trauma and family abuse, and who will let you go at your own pace without pushing you to name anything before you're ready. If cost or access is a problem, RAINN can help you find free and sliding-scale options. You can reach them anytime at 1-800-656-HOPE, or chat online at rainn.org if calling feels like too much.

Whatever you decide to call what happened, the adults who treated you this way are responsible for it, not you. You deserved to be safe and cared for growing up, and you deserve that now. We're glad you asked us this question. You are not alone.

Question 20

Why do I get sexually aroused when thinking about my childhood sexual assault?

Accepted Answer

It is not uncommon for survivors to experience a wide range of confusing and conflicting emotions and sensations after their assault, including sexual arousal. This can be especially distressing for individuals who may feel guilty or ashamed for feeling aroused in response to a traumatic event.

Sexual arousal is a physical response that can occur even in the absence of sexual desire or consent. It is a physiological response that can be triggered by a wide range of stimuli, including thoughts, memories, and sensations. In the case of sexual assault survivors, it is possible that the body's natural response to physical stimulation may be triggered by memories or thoughts related to the assault, even if these thoughts and memories are not wanted or desired.

It is important to note that experiencing sexual arousal in response to memories of sexual assault is not an indication of consent or enjoyment of the assault. It is simply a physical response that the body may have learned to make in certain situations. If you are struggling with these feelings, it may be helpful to seek support from a mental health professional who specializes in trauma and sexual assault. They can help you process your experiences and develop coping strategies to manage these difficult emotions.

Thank you for asking this tough question. You are not alone.

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Questions & Answers

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Can I write a poem instead of a story on the platform?

Is it normal to feel so much guilt and shame even years after the rape I experienced at the hands of my then boyfriend? He has lied and deceived me and that has added to my trauma. I also have incomplete memories of the event that I cannot remember clearly.

I don't want to believe I was assaulted as a young child because I know this person very well and can't see it in them to act this way but I can recall details and have vivid flashbacks. What should I do? How do I seek help for this?

I have a memory from when I was young where my dad let me rub his chest to help me fall asleep. I'm not sure how to feel about this memory or whether I should try to forget it. How do I deal with this?

Why is incest so prevalent? It feels like it's everywhere once you start looking.

I'm feeling really anxious and unsettled after a night of heavy drinking and cannabis use, during which I have memory gaps. I realized I was intimate with someone I don't fully trust. How can I safely process this experience and these feelings?

I still have the sweatshirt that I wore on the day when I was assaulted. It’s very comfortable and I still wear it a lot. Is it healthy that I do that and am I making a mountain out of a molehill about it?

Am I completely anonymous if I share my story?

Why do I get sexually aroused when thinking about my childhood sexual assault?

Can I write a poem instead of a story on the platform?

I have a memory from when I was young where my dad let me rub his chest to help me fall asleep. I'm not sure how to feel about this memory or whether I should try to forget it. How do I deal with this?

I'm feeling really anxious and unsettled after a night of heavy drinking and cannabis use, during which I have memory gaps. I realized I was intimate with someone I don't fully trust. How can I safely process this experience and these feelings?

I still have the sweatshirt that I wore on the day when I was assaulted. It’s very comfortable and I still wear it a lot. Is it healthy that I do that and am I making a mountain out of a molehill about it?

Is it normal to feel so much guilt and shame even years after the rape I experienced at the hands of my then boyfriend? He has lied and deceived me and that has added to my trauma. I also have incomplete memories of the event that I cannot remember clearly.

Why is incest so prevalent? It feels like it's everywhere once you start looking.

Why do I get sexually aroused when thinking about my childhood sexual assault?

I don't want to believe I was assaulted as a young child because I know this person very well and can't see it in them to act this way but I can recall details and have vivid flashbacks. What should I do? How do I seek help for this?

Am I completely anonymous if I share my story?

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