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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
Here goes...I was sexually abused by my oldest brother from the age of 5 up until I was 10years old. It has taken quite some time to finally sit down and write my story, but here goesÖ

My days at high school had began, but little did I know what was about to unfold in those years of my life. I remember sitting in a class on sex education. I honesty knew very little about sex, my mother was not one of those people who told me about the birds and the bees, I had to figure out by listening to other people talk about it. The class carried with the topic, then images started pouring in my head, I felt my face turn snow white. My classmates were giggling after someone made a comment Ďimagine doing it with your sibling, how disgusting.í I turned cold and the pieces of a puzzle started to form in head.

I can remember certain events when things happened to me. I can recall exactly what the weather was like on the days that my brother used to fondle me. I can recall the first time vividly the weather was scorching hot we were in the garage, the sofas were getting recovered and for some reason they were in the garage, we had made little caves with a sheet draped over the sofas. Then he showed me his penis and told me I could touch it, and then he said I must not tell my mom about any of this, and then he started touching my genitals. The sensation was good, I wasnít scared, this was my oldest brother who is 7yrs my senior. This is the person I trust and have been taught to look up to and expect to protect me.

The abuse continued as innocent as could be. It started off as fondling then it went onto sexual intercourse and later he started to sodomize me. Some times it was pleasurable and other times it was so uncomfortable. He use to know when my mother would be at work and my other brother was not around. Then there were also times when people were around, but then he would barricade the door and if anyone came knocking, ďwe were playing.Ē When we were together around other people, he used to be physically aggressive towards me. I remember two episodes where he was fighting with me and he had a little hunting knife in his hand, the next thing I know I have a cut on my finger after he has a swipe at me with it. Another fight I put up my arms to protect myself from his fists and I came out second best again with my arm sprained and in a bandage. He appeared to hate my guts when we were around other people, but it was certainly different when we were alone together.

I eventually spoke out about what had happened to a good friend, who I used to just about live with until my mom came home from work, to avoid being left alone with my brother. I starting seeing the school counselor, then passed onto a social worker and another. I gave up with counseling after being passed from one person to the next who could handle my situation better. I had a difficult time trying to talk about things that had happened, I was overwhelmed with shame that I couldnít get the words to form in my mouth. That frustrated me so much not being able to talk about the past. I had a confrontational meeting with my mom and a social worker to come out with this. My mom believed me, and then I said I wanted to confront my brother. Then my world turned upside down. My mother didnít believe me, she said I was lying, that I was seeking attention and that I couldnít do anything like this to my brother as he was very sensitive and unstable.

I went through such depression that suicide became an option in my rational thinking. I was suffering so much trying to figure out if there were more times that this happened. I was flooded with flashbacks and trying to piece together what this all meant. The questions of Ďwhyí were tearing me up inside out. This stage in my life was so dark, I felt I had dug this enormous hole, which I wanted to live in for the rest of my life. I felt numb to anything and everything, I started scratching my wrists out of shear desperation. If thereís such a place as hell that experience was exactly what I thought hell was.

I met an inspirational person who gave me a glimmer of hope, her words of encouragement pulled me out of that hole. Someone to listen to me was all I needed, just that tiny bit of support made all the difference in my life.

A year ago my oldest brother got happily drunk one afternoon and spat out an apology to me. That moment in my life froze, my skin was stone cold, and my heart was ready to jump out my body as it was pounding so hard. He blamed my mother for what happened, the divorce of my parents. He told me if I needed to yell scream and shout at him I must. Words couldnít form in my mouth I told him to leave it for now I couldnít cope and I felt I was completely and utterly in shock. Everything was real, it wasnít my imagination playing awful tricks on me. This was real and he had taken responsibility for his actions. I wrote him a letter telling him I accept his apology, I explained all the emotional anguish I went through. I didnít want revenge, I didnít want to physically harm him. I didnít want to punish him for the past. I didnít want to ask why, I didnít want to know exactly how many times it happened. I didnít want to put my feet in his shoes and feel what he felt. I told him if he ever touches another child that way, so help him god! I did tell him how I felt all those years, that I was moving on with my life, I was strong and brave to get through this and I wanted him to get on with his life and not waste it anymore than he already had. And I did tell him I still loved him, after all he is my brother as horrible as it was to endure that suffering, I still loved him as my brother.

There are symptoms and signs for sexual abuse, but in my case I was keeping a secret and I was good at keeping that secret that I didnít show any signs that I have read about in books. A child will show things if they want help. Sexual abuse happens all the time, it doesnít matter what the circumstances are, and it doesnít depend on what socially classed background you come from. It doesnít matter what gender you are, it doesnít matter what color your skin is. Itís taking place all the time in poor families, wealthy families, and single parent homes. I believe the statistics donít give a clear indication on sexual abuse, incest and molestation is still swept under the carpet and itís not spoken out in full as it concerns peopleís reputations and it involves people we love and care about.

I will admit that I still have up and down phases. I am still receiving counseling. But hell, Iíve made it this far and thereís absolutely nothing that will ever take me back to that depression. The one thing I will say, speak out and seek that help which is available. Counselors can help. Itís difficult but considering you have already gone through the abuse and now a survivor with a mission on your mind to be strong and make it through this difficult patch. My light shines brighter every day. Hold onto that glimmer of light and be strong.

And yes, I have endless problems with relationships, Iím at that stage where relationships progress with more intimacy that is my biggest hurdle. I canít go as far as sex in relationships, itís programmed in my head to be a bad thing and since thatís been my first sexual encounter to be bad and I used to feel guilty about it. Itís one of those hurdles Iím still not ready to face and I donít think I quite know how too.

Everything does feel like one fight after the other, but Iíll be damned if I give up that fight to build a new life for myself and be happy.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story, long as it is, that sums up about the last 15yrs of my 20yr existence. And I do apologize if this triggers memories for some people, but Iím glad to get it off my chest once again. The words come a lot easier every time I tell my story.

Jess
by Jessicaon 6 May 2005

I remember when I was 15, I went to a friendís house to stay over night. She was a good friend of mine. At the time we were enjoying ourselves at her house. There were around 5 people, 3 guys and 2 girls. We were playing games in the room and one of the games was strip poker. I didn't expect anything to happen because we used to play it quite often.

I kept on losing until I was fully naked. All of a sudden, my friend left the room. After she left, one of the guys locked the door. After that the three of them came over and raped me. I don't want to go into detail. You know what happened.

After they had finished, I put on my clothes and went home. I had a big quarrel with my friend and I cried the whole night. I have not contacted my friend since.

I didn't tell anybody about this incident until I met my husband. I've overcome the problem with my husband's help. I'm 21 and I've 2 children now. Sometimes I feel ashamed to face my family when I remember this incident.
by Jolinon 6 May 2005

Now at the age 17 it stills bothers me. I was molested by two of my brothers while growing up. Every morning after it happened my brothers would act like they had done nothing wrong. I never told anybody thinking that it would stop. Since I was in elementary school I was a tom boy, so I guess they really didn't see me as their little sister. My brothers are now grown and have lives of their own but the abuse didn't stop with them. When I was 14 I was placed in foster care. My foster parents had already raised a bunch of other foster kids and they always came around to visit. There was one guy in particular, he was a very good looking man, but I knew my boundaries and I would only dream about him. I never told anyone of my feelings for him. Soon he started flirting with me and would touch my breast and tell me how good I looked. I was pretty developed for my age. Well he seemed to really like it, because he would always press himself up against me and ask me if I could feel him. At first I was happy to get the attention from him knowing that I had a crush on him, and then I started to feel real uncomfortable around him. When he'd touch me I'd ask him to stop and he'd just laugh. Well one day my foster parents went on a trip to Chicago and left him in charge. It happened two nights after they left, in their bed. It hurt so badly. I cried and I pleaded with him to stop. I thought it was all over because he pulled out of me after ejaculating inside me. He then proceeded to force me to give him oral sex. It was so gross. I threw up and he made me keep doing this to him. When he decided that he was done, he pulled me close to him and told me that he would always be mine. A few months after that I was really sick, so my foster mom took me to the doctor and that's when we discovered I was 3 months pregnant with his baby. To make a long story short, I lied and said I was pregnant by some guy I was seeing at school. So now I have a 3yr old whose father is a rapist.
by God's Ange; on 6 May 2005

I was raped when I was 8 years old by my sister's husband.(*Jon) At the time of the rape my parents were constantly fighting and ignored me completely. So Jon was always there for me. He listened to me and took me out to places. My parents decided to go on a holiday to sort their problems out, so they left me with Jon. My sister was out of the country on conference. It all started the first night he came into my bedroom and said we were going to play a game. He would ask me questions and if I got it wrong he could kiss me. I thought ďthat's okĒ thinking he was going to kiss me on my cheek. I could ask him questions as well and if he got it right he could make me do anything. He would ask me very hard questions which I wouldn't know and of course he would answer all of mine correctly. It started off with him kissing me on my cheek, but then he kissed me on my lips sticking his tongue in and then he took my underwear off, at that point I got scared and tried to stop him but he said that if I broke the rules I would have to get punished. So he bit my vagina. He said that it was just a warning. He then made me lie on the floor and he stuck his tongue in me, I could feel him inside me. He took all my clothes off. Then he kissed my breasts. He asked me to suck him, I did, as I was too scared. It was too big for me, I couldn't even put my hand around it. I started to choke, so he took it out and slapped me. He went out of the room and brought back some ropes. He tied my legs apart and my hands on top of my head. Then he started to stick things inside me. First a wooden spoon, broom, ice, bottle, alcohol, and wired tooth brush which made me bleed and it stung like hell cause of the alcohol. He said he liked my screams. Then he took all his clothes off and I started to beg him to leave me alone but he just laughed. He got on top of me and stuck his full length in me. It hurt like hell, like someone was ripping me apart then he turned me around and raped me anally. That was the worst pain I ever felt and I fainted. When I woke up I was untied, and he said if I told anyone he would kill my family. For the rest of the week I was his slave who had to obey to everything and if I didn't I would get whipped. He made me wear his wife's see through thong and a costume leather push up bra which he cut and stuffed so it would fit me. He also bought 6 inch pointed heels for me and if I fell he would beat me. I only told the police the story and they arrested him for abuse. I still have nightmares. Thank you for listening.
by scaredon 5 May 2005

Hi, I am 17 and was abused by my father from the ages 7 through to 12. I only told my mother about it when I was 16 and she was the first person I told. I couldn't even tell her, I wrote her a letter. She read it 3 times and I don't know what the letter says now (I burned it after so no one saw it). She looked up at me and said 'are you sure'. I didn't think she believed me but after I said yes and she went and saw him, she had no doubt. My story is we always had to see dad on the weekends, so mum could have some time to herself and because my mum always believed that every child needs a father. On the weekends I used to say I had lots of homework and try to stay at mums. It was always ironic that I supposedly had so much homework, yet never did any and still got all A's. I used to carry a lot of shame because he always told me he would never do anything I didn't want him to do, and I did it to please him. I carried the guilt because I could have stopped it and didn't. I knew it was wrong in the back of my 7 year old mind and I didn't stop it. All my worries left me when I was at work (shoe shop) and a little girl was in. She said she was 8 and constantly told me of her Barbie dolls and pony. I realized then just how truly young I was and all my fear of it being my fault left me. I have lots of support and am very open about it, and I am very lucky for that. I am currently undergoing court and it's pretty scary, but it has to be done. I stopped being aggressive and feeling I was worth nothing when I told. Mum said she and my brother were still in shock the next day and I was all happy, she couldn't understand. She realized I had a huge weight lifted off my shoulders when I told her and that I was just relieved I wasn't alone anymore. I never kept a diary in case it was found and I believed it was my entire fault. Well it wasn't and I am not ashamed anymore. And none of you should be either.

by amyon 5 May 2005

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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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