ここは、トラウマや虐待のサバイバーが、支えてくれる仲間たちとともに自分たちのストーリーを分かち合う場です。
これらのストーリーは、真っ暗だと感じる時にも希望が存在することに気づかせてくれます。
あなたの経験したことは決して一人ではありません。
誰でもいやされることは可能なのです。
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オリジナルストーリー
Your pain is valid. Your experience was real. You are deserving of compassion. Just because there’s not a conviction that doesn’t negate the egregious wrong done against you.
Healing means I actually feel safe, calm, comfortable, allowing people to help me. It means I don’t label their care as them going out of their way for me. I don’t feel like I owe them. I don’t explain why I would like help. I finally believe I deserve it.
These are all the things I told myself during my assault. I was trying so hard to not acknowledge what it was: If I could relax then I might enjoy it. If I took a deep breath then the sensations would feel better. If I could calm down then I wouldn’t acknowledge he was doing something wrong. If I could look away then I’d forget he was there. If I could put my hands on my stomach then I’d feel my fingers, not his. If I could continue licking my lips then I wouldn’t feel his sucking, his tongue penetrating. If I could convince myself he respected me then I could make it true. If I could close my eyes then I wouldn’t have to remember him on me. If I could believe he was not forcing then I could say he was being nice. If I could appreciate what he wasn’t doing worse then I wouldn’t cry because of what he was doing. If I could tell myself he cared then I could think he was considerate. If I could participate then I could say I wanted it. If I could be glad he didn’t yell, shove, or hit then I could say he was polite. If I could like him more then I could make it consensual. If I could do these things then I wouldn’t have to accept the truth of what he did. But I can’t, I couldn’t, I won’t. What I know now: A still body is not consent. A quiet tongue is not consent. An expressionless face is not consent. A gasp for breath is not consent. An acceptance of the inevitable is not consent. I blamed myself for months because I didn’t say NO or STOP, but I said, “It’s too much,” “Not in, you can’t go in,” “Not without a ring,” “You’re not taking my virginity,” “I’ll get pregnant!” He did everything short of getting me pregnant. I told myself he respected my wishes by not thrusting inside and ejaculating. He kissed, rubbed, pulled my pants off, sucked, fingered, entered partially. I blocked him from fully penetrating with my hand. He tried to tug it away. I gave up and just moved it. I laid still, breathed deeply, closed my eyes, looked away. The second day we started making out. He tried to take my pants off. I held them up. He pulled my hair and pushed me down on him. I refused. Instead, he shoved his fingers down my throat and had me suck. He tried to push me down again. I refused. He tried to pull my pants off. I refused. He had me spit on him and finished himself. I finished myself because I was aroused. I hate that my body’s response was so strong. I feel like a fool for not wanting him to leave, for believing he cared, for being physical again. I haven’t seen him since. I successfully avoided, buried, and forgot it for months until the trauma was triggered from kissing a different man on a first date. I made a report. It’s being investigated but it’s hard to feel it actually matters. If I don’t risk vulnerability then I forfeit the chance of receiving help.
入力中のコメントですが、本当に削除してもよろしいですか?
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緊急の支援が必要な方は、{{resource}} をご訪問ください。
緊急の支援が必要な方は、{{resource}} をご訪問ください。
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