It was June of 2002, about two or so weeks after my 19th birthday. I already had a run in with someone who tried to rape me, but I fought my way out of his car and I walked the 7 blocks to my house. I was hanging out with some friend's on the east side in Buffalo, NY. I grew up on the east side; I thought I was safe in the place I had grown up. I was hanging out with Nadia, who I went to school with and 2 girls I worked with. We were walking and I had to pee. There is no store in that area with a public bathroom so my friend said”Let’s go to Jermaine's house, he'll let you use his bathroom.” So we did, Jermaine followed me into the bathroom and, I really don't want to go into details, he raped me.
I ran out of the house, left my purse in there, which had my cell and some money. Nadia immediately could tell something was wrong. I got my purse and told her I’d tell her later. We started walking up the block. I told Nadia what happened and she wanted to go beat his ass, but I stopped her. Calmly I took my cell out and called Mike, the guy I was seeing at the time. I didn't tell him what happened because he was at work. We all went back to Chantel's house and they talked me into calling my aunt to take me to the hospital to get a rape kit done.
After they did the rape kit and I filled charges against Jermaine, I went outside with Nadia for a cig and called Mike. He asked me where I was and I said the hospital. He asked me if I was raped and I said yes.
The part that really pisses me off is, Jermaine called me on my cell, the next day and acted as if everything was fine. I told him that he knew what he did and to leave me the hell alone. The police said that they couldn't arrest him due to lack of evidence, to this day he walks free. When they questioned him of course he denied it, and they let it go. I see him from time to time, and I always have to hold myself back from beating the shit out of him.
What can you do when you're the one whose been violated but you're the one being punished? Every day that man walks free, I am in prison with myself. It’s really fuc*ed up how the law works.
by Joleneon 24 Mar 2005
Well, this is the first time I have ever shared my story, so here goes.
I was a freshman in high school, when my mother’s ex husband did this to me. I was asleep on the couch in the living room, the tv was on and the remote control was sitting on the arm of the couch. I heard him come in and go downstairs; about 15 minutes later he came back up and sat in the chair next to the couch I was on. I didn’t know what he was doing so I laid there quietly. I ended up falling back asleep and all of a sudden I felt him touching me. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was looking for the remote. I told him not to touch me and I showed him where it was. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t think anyone would believe me. The next time it happened I was laying in my bed. He came in and touched me again and said he was looking for towels. I told him to get the hell out of my room and I told my best friend what happened and I told my good friend at school. The girl at school told her father and he called my school and the made me talk to a hotline who called the division of family services and sent a social worker and police to my house. He was arrested and only sentenced to 6 months in jail. He only served 2 1/2, and he was also supposed to register as a sex offender which he has not done.
Thank you for letting me tell my story
If you have any questions or comments
email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
by Ashleyon 23 Mar 2005
I have been struggling to tell someone about my sexual abuse. I was raped as a young male by a step cousin in a garage. He would make me pretend to play teacher and I was a student. I remember my cousin and brother seeing me through a peep hole.
Today, it has caused me to be confused sexually and have dating problems. Further, it has caused me an eating disorder. What is sad is that sometimes I hate him and other times I fantasize about him. I am confused and just happy to tell someone about my experience.
by Confused on 23 Mar 2005
I feel as if I can tell my story now. When I was 12 I thought I was grown and I could do what I wanted and not listen to my parents. Like leaving and go party with a few of my friends Kristal, Erica, Sean/ and jay. But one night I will never forget is the night I lost my virginity. It was not a night of magic like it was planned. My friend Sean had a really cute friend named Eric, he was older than me just like the rest of my friends and we were all at jay's house in his really big room talking and playing games. I was the only one who hadn’t had sex yet. We played the game "I NEVER." Sean brought a big thing of vodka and 6 cups you have to say something like “I never had sex” and stand up if you have and drink a shot of vodka. So I said ok but then Jay was like if u never did it you have to take of a piece of clothe each time. So I said ok. It was my turn and I said “I never cheated on a boyfriend” and no one stud up so every one had to take clothes off except me because I said I “never.” Then Erica said “I never gave oral sex” and every one except me stud up so I had to take off something and it got down to every one being naked. Eric was 16 and I was 12. He kept giving me drinks until I was too drunk to stand, so he took me in jay's sister’s room and got on top of me. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me to shut up and no one would hurt me. Being drunk there wasn’t much I could do. I was so weak; he then inserted his penis inside me. I couldn't breath, I couldn't speak no. all I could do was to wait there until he was done. When I thought it was over it wasn’t. he turned me over on my stomach and continued. I steal can’t sleep. I am now 14. I never talked to Eric again. I never told anyone until now. I still talk to the rest of my friends, but they still don’t know.
by kate on 23 Mar 2005
When my parents were in the middle of their divorce, I was left in the care of my uncle. From age 6 - 12, I was molested by my uncle. He made me do all of these really strange things that I never understood. He used to make me watch porn with him while he pressed himself against me, his hand in my pants. He bathed me in the shower, "teaching me how to be a woman" while shaving off my public hair when it started to come in. He told me that everything he did was for me. Like, when he rubbed lotion all over and in me --- that was somehow "good for me." He used to stick objects like Q-tips inside me telling me that women have to clean themselves.
As a trade off, I was "safe" from my fighting parents, and he offered me a very twisted love and acceptance.
He eventually broke things off with me when he found a girlfriend. I felt devastated and didn't know how I'd survive without him. At this point, he was who I had identified my family as. I began to get depressed and act out. In school education classes on sexual abuse made me uncomfortable, and I began to understand things a little clearer.
I had been in various forms of therapy since I was 10. I told my therapist about the abuse when I was 13.
My dad said he always thought that my mom's brother was sick and that he had a feeling that the abuse had been going on. My mom had a hard time believing me and my grandparents (their son) believed me, but still kept on seeing my uncle. My mother still insists that her sacrifice of never seeing her brother again (her decision, I never asked her to) is a lot harder for her than anything the abuse has / will do to me.
Around 15 when I started really developing, I got more depressed and became anorexic. I guess I felt the need to always be a little girl. I kept my breasts at bay for a couple of years. I lost my period. Also during this time, I began "dating." I put that in quotes, because I would have a relationship with a guy, but never allowing them to make a sexual advancement.
At 16 I became compulsive and then shut down about masturbation, linking it back to my uncle around 16. Shortly after, I shut sexually down and put on a lot of weight, no longer caring about my image.
I wore my dad's clothes, glasses, and let my hair turn into dread locks. I guess I had no self esteem. I became bulimic for a short period of time.
At 18, I feel that my life took a turn for the better when I gained some self confidence when I learned how to blow glass. I came under the wing of a great friend and mentor who I am still in contact with.
I am now 20.
Through various fortunate events, I have come a long way.
I still don't have it all figured out, but I am keeping tabs on myself. I have recently redeveloped my bulimia, but I am working on that ... as soon as I tell my therapist. I still allow men to touch me even if I don't want them to. When a guy friend made an advance on me, I felt trapped and just decided to let him have his way. I like to think of it as an extra workout for the day, although I know that that thinking is ridiculous and unfair to myself. I still have trouble keeping my mind and body connected even when I am in a loving and mutual relationship.
But I am reclaiming my body again. I have began to get rekindle my love of body building and doing some life drawing. For me, life drawing was a way to reclaim my own body through drawing. I found it really healing.
by Pamelaon 23 Mar 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.