what you do with this blog is BEAUTIFUL and it helps so many. Thank you. Really. If *anyone* needs to talk, know I'm here for you 24-7 and I'll always answer. Be strong, you're beautiful, it was not your fault <3
I don’t have much of a rape story to tell, but it’d be really good to know that someone’s finally hearing me out - to finally get all of this off of my chest.
It began when I was 10. One of my cousins had come with his mom to visit us from New York. His name was Justin.
He made it his life’s goal to terrorize me. He degraded me so many times in so many ways, and I felt it even at 10 years old. Many instances he would just walk into my room while I changed and stared at me, taking in every inch of my body. There was a time where he fought me, kicking me until I was on the floor struggling to get up and crying. Other times he would nonchalantly pull down his pants in front of me just for the sake of a laugh.
But none of those incidents matched up to that night in bed.
My family was having a cookout and the adults were outside, far from the bedrooms inside the house. They couldn’t hear us; we couldn’t hear them. My parents dismissed the idea of Justin being a threat because we were both so young (and my parents so naive).
While the adults ate, drank, and had a good time outside, the children were directed to stay inside and play. I, however, felt very tired that night, so I went to my room. The lights were off and channel 38, like always, lit up my TV screen with the volume down low.
As I began falling asleep, Justin walked into my room. My sleepy eyes barely recognized him, but once they did, my skin boiled. This was probably two days after the event of him kicking me to the ground, which I still hadn’t gotten over. I remember sitting up in bed, eyeing him because he wouldn’t leave my room. He then laid in my bed beside me, locking his eyes with mine as he pulled the blankets over our heads. He proceeded to lift my shirt almost completely off of me, rubbing everything underneath, then stuck his hands down the front of my pants and followed to the back. He touched me for what seemed like hours. In between, I remember him asking me if I wanted to touch him, but I rejected. Once he was done - once he figured he had enough of my skin - he just left. He just got out of my bed and walked right out of my room. He probably doesn’t even remember it to this day, but I?
I will always be ashamed. I let him touch me. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.
Now, every time I see him, I get nauseous. Last time he visited, he wouldn’t stop flirting with me and trying to convince me that we weren’t actually cousins. Before he left, I remember the hug he gave me in full detail.
I always think about that hug. I always cringe at the thought of it. I told him I didn’t like hugs. I told him I didn’t want a hug, but he leaned it anyway. I remember the way his hands were so low on my back, how he guessed he could slide them around a bit and go unnoticed.
I noticed, Justin. I will never forget.
I have never been so terrified of anyone like I am of him.
I wasn't raped, but at my first job I got a lot of sexual abuse from a coworker (getting really close behind me, trying to whisper in my ear, lingering, too close touches to places I really rather he didn't). It was an under-the-table job so there were no benefits or anything, I couldn't even report him because my boss saw him as this star pupil. I quit instead, and it's shaken me so badly that I struggle to apply anywhere else.
I’m 13 and it only happened a couple months ago, but a few friends came over for a little get together and they all stayed round in my room and 2 friends took my bed so I slept on the floor and the boy stayed next to me. I was half asleep you know where you know what’s happening but like still got your eyes shut, and he started touching my leg I thought it could of been an acident so I turned over and moved further away but then he started just touching my boobs and all over my body. I told a few friends and they told other people it got out and he denied it all.It made me feel worthless, everyone told me I was a liar. And I still have to face him at school.
i'm a girl and i have a friend and we are "friends with benefits" I guess.. we act like we're married and people thought we are together but no, we're not. we like to joke around and one day the convo leads to him saying that i need to be prepared because i'm such a tease and he will rape me. i thought he was joking so i laughed it off, the next day he started touching me and whispered "you are such a tease, be careful baby." he never did it, but now i am paranoid even though i act like its okay
When i was about four, i had moved into my new home in san diego. My dad decide to invite some family. Eventually, it got late, it got dark. And everyone was drunk. I remember being outside. My sister was next to me. And my uncle came outside and said “who wants to look at the stars with me?” and i said yes, i wanted to be polite. My sister went back inside, so it was just him and i. Its a blur how we ended up on the side of my house, but i remember him grabbing me and taking me there. When we did get to the side of the house, he held me and kissed me. he put his tongue down my throat, he was all over me. I wanted to get away from him, so i kicked him and i began to squirm around to get out of his grip. I did, and when i did, he fell down. and as i was running, i could hear him say “wait! i wasn’t done yet!” I ran inside, but stopped because i saw all of my family sitting in the living room. I didn’t know what to say, i was so confused.
To this day, i have not told my family. They would never believe me… And because of this, i began to self harm in the 5th grade. But i have been clean for 1 month.
When I was 8 years old, my oldest brother molested be in the bathtub. he made me put my mouth on him, and lay next to him. i have grown up hating myself. his physical abuse and verbal abuse have continued on. he still lives with me and my parents. I'll be 20 next month. everyday I wake up and see him there. I think that's why i grew up disliking feminism. i still think i deserved it somehow.
When I was six, my dad and I moved out to Washington to live with his ex wife, L. My brother and sister on her side lived with her as well, though she honestly wasn’t that great of a mother. But I think, after a while, it grew too awkward having her many boyfriends over while her ex husband and his kid were there, so she asked us to move.
We moved around quite a bit, actually. First, roomating with two absolute slobs, then to a homeless shelter after finding that we just couldn’t take living with them. A few couches followed, but then, we moved in with L’s sister and her daughter.
Her daughter’s name was R, and she had a holy temper. She’d scream and shout when something didn’t go her way; the terrible twos and threes. But I always tried to be nice to her. R’s cousin H would come over a lot, and soon we became great friends, dissappearing to get away from the tantrums of that little kiddo. H was twelve at the time.
R’s mom would take her to daycare when she had to work, and H would watch me. My dad would leave around the same time R’s mom did, and so it was oftentimes just the two of us. We loved to build forts with blankets and sheets and couch cushions— she taught me how to make a mean blanket tent. We’d bundle up inside and she’d read stories aloud and we’d draw.
But one time, she was reading some dumb romance story, and it had gotten to a suggestive part. I didn’t understand it, obviously, so she tried to teach me. I guess it was consentual, letting her touch me and kiss me, but I didn’t understand the meaning of it until now.
And that started a pattern. We did this a lot. She’d ask me to touch her, and I would. And she’d touch me, though honestly it didn’t feel very good, and I always had a sickening feeling that we’d get caught. The first time I’d come into contact with somebody having an orgasm was in a plaid blanket tent in the corner of a messy livingroom with a girl that I didn’t love. I didn’t know why she was breathing so heavily or what was making her do that. All I knew was that she wanted me to touch her between her legs, where I remember being surprised that she was hairy and I wasn’t.
I think back on this incident a lot, and I hate that I remember it so well. But I’d always had good memory.
I’ve only ever told one person about it, in detail and crying over the phone. A few months later, when I brought it up in private conversation, she told me that she didn’t remember what I was talking about. It hurt my feelings a lot, because I happened to really like her. I didn’t tell her again.
I’m fourteen now. I’ll be starting highschool this September, and my mom told me that her freshman year was when she lost her virginity, so if I needed to talk, it was alright. I’m scared that it’ll happen, but I know that I’ll have a sense of the deepness of it all, and try to do it right, with somebody that I love; and only if I’m ready.
My ex-fiance used to do things to me while I was asleep. I didn't really care until one day we were taking a nap and I woke up in the middle of it to him trying to do anal. I punched him in the balls and he cried. Later on in the relationship I witnessed him cheating on me.
My boyfriend raped me and sexually abused me every day for 3 months, then continued to do it about 2-3 times a week for nearly a year. He has no idea that what he did caused me so much hurt and emotional damage. When i tried to confront him about it, he told me it was my own fault and told me that i wanted it. Now i suffer from depression, anxiety, PTSD and anorexia and I'm switching schools for my senior year of high school. Did he think that i asked for that too?
When I was in grade three, I had an older friend who molested my sister and I and had me do terrible things to her. Being so young, I responded to the threat of "I won't be your friend anymore if you don't do it". My sister, being three years younger than me, told someone who told my mom. My mom beat us both senselessly and pinned the blame entirely on us. I tried so hard shutting that experioence out and have never forgiven my mother for that...
Rape is something tricky. Some victims agree verbally but mentally they just do it to ease the act, to not make it worse. But really, you’re still being submitted to it, you’re still going through something you don’t want part of.
Hi. I'm a rape victim, but I laugh at and make rape jokes. It makes me feel better, makes what happened seem more light-hearted. Is it wrong to do this?
I’ve been getting many asks about this particular situation. I think it’s redundant to state once again my hatred towards rape-jokes, but that is entirely MY personal opinion. Then again, the way a victim decides to heal and cope with the situation or experience is entirely personal. Which brings the rape jokes to another aspect and condition between people who’ve gone through it and insensitive people who do it because they are ignorant.
I believe that what doesn’t beat you makes you stronger. If it makes you feel better, I don’t see the problem. The thing is to be respectful to those who don’t see rape jokes as a ‘therapy’, like me for example or other people who are hurt and affected by them.
This is a particular strong topic, and my advice and opinion may be wrong. You never know who may be listening to the jokes that has gone through a similar situation and what reaction it may cause. Always be careful. If they are any doubts about this answer, you may question me or engage a discussion about it, I’ll be more than glad to explain and share opinions in a more complete way.
Hello, I'm a rape survivor and I just wanted to let the rest of us know that if they ever need to talk I'm here to lend a hand, and even though I'm a stranger I won't judge you and I will talk to you. u w u Stay strong, my fellow survivors!
when i was 3 i was raped by a man that came to my preschool to volunteer read. i had insomnia so during nap time he said i was going to help him with a special job, and the teachers let him take me. he came back every friday at 4:00. he raped me every time. every time i see my scars, i want to kill myself.
DO NOT KILL YOURSELF. Scars may be there, but there’s a lot to live for, a lot of time left to grow stronger and a lot of different people that deserve your presence. You’ll be okay, better.
I was in a “best friends with benefits” sort of relationship with this guy that we’ll call “Derick”, that I trusted a lot. I met him in school and he lived near me, and we became friends immediately. Soon we became very close and we told each other close to anything. We did everything with each other, and at one point we were close to dating. We had this thing going on for about seven months. Everyone always told me how Derick was an ass to everyone and that he used everyone. I didn’t believe any of it until one night in February. I’d just broken up with my boyfriend and I didn’t want to do anything. He asked me if I needed a hug, and I agreed. Then he proceeded to pin me to the floor and tape my mouth shut so I couldn’t scream. He kicked me in the stomach a couple of times and at first I was just…confused. Then he started to told me “You’re such a slut, and you’re so fucking young. You disgust me. You’re very stupid for letting me get so close to you. I had you wrapped around my finger. You’d do anything for me. You believed every little lie I told you. No one will ever love you too, you’re too easy. You’re ugly. You’ll die alone.” I remember everything he told me that night. It still remains in my head every single day. Keeping me up. Then, he stuck himself inside of me, and came inside me. Then he finally let go of me and I ran home as fast as I could. I still had the duct tape on my mouth and when I took it off I was speechless. I was crying so hard and my clothing was ripped at some parts and I had bruises all over my stomach and arms, and part of my face was cut and bruising from where he slapped me repeatedly. That was the last time I saw Derick. That was about a year ago from now. I was only fourteen at the time that happened. I thought it was all my fault for the longest time, and I blamed myself for everything that happened between us. I hated myself. I turned to drugs. But after a long time of being in closure, I learned to accept myself for who I am, and I had to accept the fact that I couldn’t do anything about it. It was in the past. It’s his fault, not mine. I was helpless. I believe i’m a beautiful individual who has so much potential now. I’m surrounded by loving friends who accept it. Everything ALWAYS gets better.
i've been raped once and sexually abused by 2 other people. one was my dad, the other was a man i never met, and the other was by a guy i thought was my friend. thats just a little bit of my story. my goal in life is to help people that have been through the same things as me and maybe change their life. stay strong, loves
I make rape jokes. I've been sexually assaulted by stranger my whole life. i have had boys in 1st grade try and shove action figures inside me. i have had strangers at puss stops rub my arms and legs and try to stick their tongues down my throat. I've been grabbed, groped, kissed and healed down, but never raped. I used to live in fear that, since it's slowly been getting worse my whole life, one day it is going to happen. but i still make rape jokes. it makes me feel in control. strong.
The way you take the situation and control it, is very personal and delicate. If that is what makes you feel in control, that’s yours. But then it makes the whole rape-joke topic a little relative. There are ignorants out there who make the jokes because they have no respect for this delicate situation, but those who use that as an advantage to feel powerful and controlled, are in my eyes, strangely brave and uncommonly strong. Even though I’ve stated many times that rape jokes are NOT okay.
Five years ago, my family had started to fall apart. Close family members began dying from illnesses and the foundation of our family seemed to crumble, leaving me to feel alone and scared. I had befriended a boy two years older than me who had lived about an hour away. We talked constantly and I became attached to him and began to trust him. He was there for me when no one else was for me, he let me talk about anything, and how I was feeling without judging me. After a month we had decided to meet innocently. We were just friends, anyways. My mom took me, didn’t think anything of it. She dropped me off in a busy town square. A lot of people around but he had said he had to go home which was a few blocks away because his mom called him. So I agreed to go along, he said his mother was home, anyways. Once we got to his house, it was empty. He then brutally forced himself onto me, and took my virginity, threatened me, hurt me. For the longest time, I didn’t say a word. I was so confused, and hurt. Maybe this was okay since I trusted him. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe.. I felt ashamed, scared, broken. I couldn’t bring myself to tell my mom until a few weeks later. I didn’t want to, but I just broke down one day, once I was getting ready to shower. I couldn’t look at my body. It disgusted me. I was just a young girly, nearly thirteen. He took everything away from me. But I was, and still am determined to get it back. It’s not easy, some days it’s okay, and other days it’s really not. He messed me up immensely and ruined a lot of things for me. But I refused to believe that this was my fault and for ANYONE who thinks it is there fault, it is NOT. Please try and be strong, even if it doesn’t seem possible. Things will get better, I’m living proof of that. My heart goes out to every single one of you.
hey there! I may not have the same kind of blog you have AT ALL, but this blog makes me sad reading all the things that happened to these people. tell your followers that my ask box is opened for anyone that wants to pour their hearts out. but no anons if they don't want to get published. or just put into the submission :) I want to show them that not only these kind of blogs would care, other different owners of totally different type of blogs would care! thank you :)
I'm afraid of my dad. when I was a kid, everytime he got home he would take off his belt and beat me. after that he would say sorry and he would kiss me and left while my mom is just standing there. she is also scared of him and when I was in elementary he would just stand there and look at me changing clothes and if i say i want to change he would get mad saying that I'm ashamed having a father like him. now, he likes to wrap his arms around my waist and "accidentally" touch my boobs.
So I’m kind of still living my story unfortunately. On good friday this year I had three of my best friends over. Two of them had gone out to get lunch and were bringing it back to my house. So it was me and this boy Ashton. Well we kissed and that part I had let happen and thats what I can’t forget. I always think that if I hadn’t kissed him maybe it wouldn’t have given him the idea that I wanted to. From there he pushed me onto the bed after I had said no and tried to leave the room. He ripped my underwear in half…and I was covered in bruises afterwards because I struggled and he wore no protection so I got pregnant from it.
I’m only 16 so I went on abortion medication. And the only reason I can’t ever forget is because he constantly texts me and calls me to remind me of what happened. He didn’t apologise either…he actually admitted it to my friends in the car as they drove home. He was proud of himself, and even though he said he was ashamed of what he did, he considered it a “score” because he’d been “going for me” since camp (in the summer) and I had always rejected him…I had become a prize to gloat about…I’ve never felt as worthless as I did during that moment and each time someone comes to me saying “did you hear what Ashton said about you?”
My best friend came up to me the other day, and told me this story, and i was stunned. Her brother, whom I know well, along with two other boys his age, raped her when she was just 8 years old. They told her it was just a 'game''. The only reason she told me about it because she was sick of telling herself that they hadn't raped her, just taken advantage.
the other day, at my friend's birthday party, someone used the term "manwhore", and i told them that i hated that term because it implies that only women can be whores, and everyone went quiet and gave me dirty looks. it's things like this that encourage victim-shaming and i hate that they're considered normal, and that i'm the weird, over-sensitive one for trying to eliminate that way of thinking. you're all so strong, know that though i've never been assaulted, i still love and support you all
Hello :). Me and my friend have just started a blog which dedicated to prevention/support/help/advice of things like suicide & self-harm, but it's also a general advice blog too. Would you be able to share the URL for us? It's life-not-death :) it would be a huge help, we want to get it out there and help as many people as we can! <3
Great blog, beautiful cause. Follow these amazing girls!
I didn't want to be raped, I didn't want to be hurt, so I said yes. I didn't want it, but I consented from fear of it being worse. I know that, in the eyes of the law, it was rape. But I also know that when I tell people this, they wont understand and say it wasn't rape. I've got so much locked away. His name is like acid in my mouth. I pretend he never existed, I push the memories away. He's a monster, he raped me, he killed animals and when I tried to leave, he pretended to kill himself.
One time, I confided in my friend and I told her about the time when I was molested by my step-mom's brother, and how much it scarred me. After I told her, she simply just smiled and asked, "Was he hot?" It made me sick to my stomach. I was a child that was violated, so no, I don't give a fuck if he was hot. It's hard to find people to trust with my darkest secrets. Thank you for this blog. I feel so much better.
That’s what we are here for, dear. Glad it was of help<3
I was molested and raped for 4 years as a child. I can't have anyone behind me or on top of me without panicking. Even so, I laugh at rape jokes. I don't find them funny at all, nor do they bother me, but I feel like a monster for laughing. It seems like it's either laugh or cry with me and I do enough crying.
Everyone if different. And some people find curious ways of coping with what has happened, it’s a very personal thing. As a very personal opinion, rape jokes are never funny. But, then again, the way you decide to cope with what happened is entirely yours.
How do you share your story? I try. I keep trying but every single time I lie about it somehow. I'm too ashamed of what really happened.
When you are ready, you’ll be clear and confident about letting it all out. You’ll know the right time. Write it, say it out loud. Anyway will be the right way to talk about it. The one who should be ashamed is the one that did this to you.
Feel free to non-anon me, I’m gonna reblog it anyway xD
A month ago, this post would have been a simple ramble about an experience with sexual harassment. But it’s not a month ago now, is it? Now, it’s expanded; now, I’ll talk about excuses and how they are not okay in response to this topic.
Let’s flashback to New Years Ever 2010; I’m sixteen years old, a junior in high school, never been kissed, never even been liked by a boy, or anyone for that matter. And then I met my friend’s neighbor, a freshman boy who really seemed to like me by the time 2011 hit. And so I liked him back.
Flash forward a couple weeks. We’re dating, and he’s on the phone with me. Somehow, he gets the idea that it’s totally okay to tell me to masturbate, which I wasn’t exactly comfortable with (okay, that’s putting it a bit lightly). I tell him no, he assumes “oh, she’s older than me, she totally wants to do it, there’s another reason.” And asks. And when I tell him no, he informs me “if you trust me, you’ll do it.” (which I could talk about, but that’s a different rant)
The conversations continue throughout the relationship, and even though I’m increasingly uncomfortable, I don’t dump him because I have absolutely no clue what to do.
Fast forward to a random Saturday in March. He broke up with me almost a month before because I was too indecisive and because “we haven’t made out yet” (this was a welcome development because of a conversation we’d had the day before that which had me in tears and which no one knows about simply because I’d rather forget that happened). My friend (the one who’s his neighbor) shows me a text from her boyfriend that’s sufficiently awkward (but not my-ex-boyfriend-level awkward), and I tell her that I’ve seen and heard worse. I’m then informed that this was sexual harassment and I should have told her.
Fast forward to March 17th. A couple days before, I mentioned the sexual harassment thing in passing around aforementioned friend and was told “there’s a lot you don’t know.” Today, I mention him again to someone else and the response from the friend is along the lines of a very snappy “don’t ever mention that again.” Apparently, something bad had happened or recently came to light that she’s not allowed to talk about (and yet, from some of the things I think I’ve heard, one of my friends knows about), and as a result, I was expected to be okay with the sexual harassment (or, at least, that’s all I could understand of it; I’m horrible at understanding things like this).
Granted, she was previously guilty of not understanding that the sexual harrassment really messed up my self-esteem, but this is even worse in my opinion. Apparently she agrees this doesn’t excuse him; however, it seems to me that she believes the opposite.
Call me a bit crazy, but I’m of the opinion that a person’s previous experiences do not excuse them from responsibility for crap like this. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough to walk in their shoes (you know, if I actually knew what the hell was going on), but I know that if I suffered what they went through, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else, let alone cause it myself. It’s a shame I don’t know what’s going on, since that might help my perspective, but I don’t think there’s much I can do about that.
In the meantime, I’m going to pretend that January and February of 2011 never happened, and that my self-esteem isn’t messed up from those months. Maybe it’s a guilt trip for the friend involved, maybe it’s just to appease her, I don’t know. All I can tell you is that it’s not going to end well.
I was 14 and it was just over three years ago, I had a boyfriend and I was so stupid, I started liking someone older than me, we became friends so quickly and I ended up kissing him when I was still with my boyfriend. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but I know it happened twice, first time he forced himself upon me, forcing his hands down my pants even though I was telling him to stop, the second time was a lot worse, on my sofa, stairs and lastly my bedroom he kept holding me down and I always remember him saying something along the lines of “You wouldn’t of kissed me if you didn’t want it” and soon after I was half naked on my bed nearly being forced into sex.
I quickly stated about a condom, and he stopped, if I left it a second later it would of been full sexual rape, but instead I ran to the bathroom and locked myself there not really thinking about what happened. We said bye and the next day I told my friends, one pointed out it was rape, and that’s when it all started, the next day I walked into school and my friend ran up to me telling me the whole above year were waiting for me, and the whole day I had to cope with teachers talking to me and everyone asking me questions, I also got punched in the playground getting called a liar. In the end, he got away free because there wasn’t enough evidence and I panicked and messed the story up.
Funny thing is, I’d coped with it, didn’t affect me anyway until last year when my boyfriend at the time bought it up, and then ever since everything to do with rape bothers me, and when I see him I feel sick to my stomach, I think about it everyday now and it’s so hard to cope with, more because I saw him one night after I’d already had a breakdown about it. It’s hard to talk to people about it though because no-one’s been through it because I wasn’t fully raped it was attempted and sexual abuse. Idk, it’s just hard. Needed to do this and just know I’ve told someone even if it’s anon.
My parents did everything right when they chose my babysitter. His parents were very good family friends, and they had seen him grow up. Without a doubt, he was a good choice to babysit my brother. But to babysit me?
He was the worst choice they could have made.
For 4 years, starting when I was 3, he was my babysitter. I had known him all my life. I trusted him. How was I supposed to know he didn’t tuck my brother in the same way he did me? How was I supposed to know that what he was doing was sickeningly wrong? My bedtime was 7. I wasn’t allowed to go to sleep until 8. For an hour or so EVERY.TIME. I would be touched, and he would make me touch him.
Even when he wasn’t babysitting and his family came over for suppers he would abuse me. He would put me in ‘locks’. He would wrap his body around mine in such a way that I couldn’t escape.
One day, I bit him. He responded my taking a lighter out and trying to burn my hand. I rand downstairs and cried to my dad about the lighter. I didn’t mention the touching. I thought that was normal. After the lighter incident though, he wasn’t allowed to come over for about 3 years. During those 3 years, I had different babysitters. They didn’t touch me. Eventually, through a lesson in school, I learned just how terribly I had been taken advantage of. I have never told anyone except my counselor.
I have to say this: anyone who ever thinks it was their fault they were raped, it never is. you are beautiful people who have been done the greatest unjustice, I am so, so sorry that these disgusting acts have happened to you, and you never had ever deserved that. no one deserves to be raped. no one.
What this great fellow said, followers. Keep this in mind.
I willingly went to his house, he was my friend. He said he'd sleep downstairs and I could have his bed. But then he got really drunk. I did try and stop him. I'd only ever been with my ex boyfriend, i'd never been in that situation before. I wasn't sure what to do, in the end it was easier to stop resisting it. A year later I reported it. The case was dropped. I'd only just convinced myself I was allowed to feel it was wrong. But I still feel guilty, like i'm making it all up. I just cant talk.
You’ll rise from this, y’know? You’ll overcome it and it will be great. What happened was not your fault and there is no reason to feel like you’re making it up. <3
I think about it all the time. I want to talk to my boyfriend about it. The words just wont come out, I feel stupid, attention seeking and guilty so I just don't say anything even if he guesses what's wrong. I just keep pretending nothings wrong, I can't ignore it forever.
Let it out only when you are ready, not before and not later. When you are ready, that’s the right time.
If a friend is telling you that they were raped how do you react? Of course I say I'm sorry and such but I feel as if that is all I can do and of course I can listen to them which I would be glad to do but is there anything else? Is it normal to feel uncomfortable when they share their experience?
When a friend confesses that he/she has gone through a rape it’s normal to feel uncomfortable. We are humans, at the end of the day it’s hard to relate to other experiences when we ourselves haven’t gone through it. But, he/she needs someone to be strong for them. As silly as it sounds, just be there when that friend needs you. Be as much help as you can, and if you can’t, help that person get someone who can help in a better way. I said the word ‘help’ too many times, sorry. I hope this helps.
I was raped when I was 4 by mu uncle, he was like my friend. He told me it was normal. And I believed him, until I turned 7 ... He started doing more to me.. I knew something was odd. I asked him to stop one day, he said okay and he left town. Then he came back 3 or 4 weeks later ... He said he was taking me out of town, he took me .. And he did horrible things. My mom finally found out. When I was 10 ... I was raoed over a period of 6 years. I feel ugly, a freak .. Diffrent I'm not normal
I bet you are one of the most beautiful persons out there, with the glow of a survivor. You are normal, you’re not different or a freak. What that man did to you only left scars, but it did not take away your strength. You will overcome this, it will get better.
I don’t even know how to start this because this is the first time in over 2 years, since when it happened, have I been able to say anything without hyperventilating. I was staying over at a good friends house, he had also invited a friend I had never met before but we got along, we kissed at one point but I made it clear I didn’t want to do more because that wasn’t the kind of person I was.
Later on that night I woke up to find that my pants had been removed and so had my knickers, too this day I still have no idea what happened to me and it haunts me. My supposedly ‘good friend’ refused to believe me as well which hurt even more. Due to that night I tried to kill myself but thankfully I didn’t. I also relapsed with my self-harming which I struggle everyday to control. Right now, I’m losing that battle with myself. What makes it worse is that I have to walk around and see this guy and hear stories about him because nobody knows what happens.
It makes me sick to my stomach when I found out he would go on nights out with my friends yet I still couldn’t tell them to warn them what happened and I hate myself that they might be in danger because I can’t speak up, I hate myself for being afraid to go out in case I see him and I hate myself for what happened.