Rape and sexual abuse survivors - Dancing In The Darkness resource for rape and sexual abuse survivors. help and support for rape and sexual abuse survivors
rape and sexual abuse survivors share their thoughts rape is NEVER your fault aftermath of rape and sexual abuse
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Date Rape

Date Rape

In many cases of rape and sexual abuse, the predator is a man the woman is dating. This is commonly called Date Rape or Aquaintance Rape. These are the most common type of rape committed.

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Dancing in the Darkness
Hi, I have quite a long story but I will try to make it as short as possible. I was abused by my family from the age of 5 and for over 9 years. I was also raped 3 years ago and lost a baby. I do not look at myself as a victim but as a survivor. God gave me the strength to survive. And I want you out there to know that you are not alone. I want to help and I want to listen because I understand. I know the feelings, the torture, the pain, the guilt, and that feeling that tells you life isn’t worth living. .
by destinyon 17 Oct 2003

I was 13, almost 14, when I was sexually assaulted. He was someone I knew, and who took the same bus home. One day he stole my bag, and I chased him into our friend AJ's house. Once I got in, he said if I wanted the bag, I had to give him something in return. I tried to escape, but he tackled me to the ground and dragged me into the basement. He made me strip, and lay on my back so he could masturbate me... He let me go afterwards, and the other guy who didn't participate, asked me if I was okay...yeah right. The perpetrator was never charged, because he didn't leave any marks on me...sometimes I wish he had slit my throat...at least then he would have been charged. Since he was never charged, he was allowed to stay in the same school as me. I have to look at him every day. It's repulsive. The worst part is that other survivors shun me because what happened to me isn't 'as bad' as what happened to them. I have nobody to talk to...because we can't afford therapy...I feel dead..
by Heather on 15 Oct 2003

The following is the email I sent to my family after 25 years of denial. I had to say it out loud, to finish my healing. My mind knew I was raped, but my heart was in total denial. My husband knew I was not just trying to get attention when he gently tried to touch me one night and I freaked out, pulled my clothes tightly around me and rocked and rocked, with eyes full of terror. People can be so cruel with their opinions and comments. God is so gentle and loving. Jesus my healer - my friend!

Where do I begin? Simplicity is often a drape put over a window so I don’t have to see clearly what is staring at me. Tell the story quickly and without emotion so no one including myself can see the ugly truth staring at me. I was sexually raped by a man I barely knew. Why I trusted him is beyond my understanding. He talked himself in, like a good salesman, winning my trust through good arguments. His arguments were valid. I was tired; I did need someone to assist in driving. I did need financial help, I was down to my last $20.00 and wasn’t sure if that would be enough gas money to get me home. It was nice letting someone else drive so I could sleep. But stopping at a hotel was out of the question. No, I was heading home and I wanted to move on. What was it about this salesman that made me such an easy target? How did he know that I was scared of the police? How did he know that argument would win me over? Very uneasy and unsure I slept at the edge of the bed. Trust, it is a funny thing. Those who I should trust – I do not and those who others would clearly see that I should NOT trust – I do. Hind sight is so clear. Present reality is not. I should have driven away; I was in control, wasn’t I? It was my car, it was my destination, and it was my new beginning. Why was I so easily side tracked? I wake in a fog, lost of all direction and very groggy; to find this man taking what did not belong to him. I tried to push him away and stop him but I felt so drugged like I was there but had no control over my own limbs. I remember nothing else. 9 months later – I give birth to a wonderful little boy.
25 years later – I finally begin to heal. Simplicity is an ugly drape that imprisons me in darkness and holds out the light. If only I’d opened the drapes earlier. M. chambers
by Mickey on 14 Oct 2003

I was molested by my cousin’s son. We went to visit my cousin in Mexico and she had a daughter and a son of my age. I was just 13 when he molested me. My parents left me over my cousin’s house so I could sleep there. My cousin’s daughter was 15 and she didn't know. It was 8:50pm, and I was in a room getting dressed. All of a sudden he comes right and throws me on the bed and pins me down. He was right on top of me. He started to take off my shirt and my bra. He took of my PJ's pants and my undergarments. I tried to scream for help as loud as I could but his sister went to the store and me and him were the only ones left. He took of his pants and tried to insert his private in me. I took my foot and kicked him upwards. He fell to the floor with pain. I got a blanket to cover me and at that moment his sister walked in. She saw us naked and only with the covers. She saw her brothers pants unzipped and everything. She got him and slapped him 5 times. We decided not to tell his parents or my parents so that it wouldn’t cause any problems. I know what I did as wrong but one day I'll let my parents know but just not now. Thank you for reading my story. Life isn’t always fare and this is one of the ways it is.
by Mary on 14 Oct 2003

I will try to make this short. It all started when I was about 4 years old. My mother’s boyfriend, THE BIKER GUY, used to beat me and my brother with a black leather belt with silver spikes on it. My mother locked us in a bedroom so my brother tried to take care of me and I will always cherish him for that he was only 6 years. When they would leave the house they would lock us out side for very long periods of time. We were always starved, I remember my mom sneaking us in a 1/2 cheese sandwich. I will never forget the words she spoke “hurry and eat it before Neil gets home.” After years of torture my grandmother saved us, or at least so I thought until I got there at her house and a year later her husband started molesting me. I finally went to a foster home it wasn't great but better... Thank you for caring.
by jennifer wolfe on 14 Oct 2003

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This site is offered for support of other survivors, it is not meant to be a substitute for any kind of professional help. I don't have any qualifications or training in therapy, I am by no means a professional. I claim no responsibility for the use of this web site, use of content, or content of any links leading from this site. If you are in a crisis situation I urge you to contact your local rape crisis center or health care professional.

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