It was my 10th birthday; I was staying at my dad’s girlfriend house. Her 3 daughters, 2 sons, and I went to this party and a few of my friends were there, they had brought a guy over with them. We were dancing and I had stopped to go to the bathroom up stairs. When I had came out the bathroom he had pulled me in to a room and pushed me down on the bed. He started to put his hands up my skirt. I told him to stop but he wouldn’t. I tried to fight him off but he was to strong, he slapped me and told me to shut up. I was in a lot of pain. All I could hear myself saying is “why are you doing this?” and “stop.” When he stopped I couldn't move. He was 15 years old. Every day I think of that night. I will never forget.
by katrinaon 12 Mar 2005
Well, as you can imagine, it's very difficult to come out to such a wide group of people, but I feel a strange kind of comfort knowing that everyone here will understand. I lost my virginity at 15 when my boyfriend raped me. We had been dating for a month and it started out innocently enough. After a few days, he subtly started wearing down my self esteem by manipulating me and trying to coerce me into having sex with him, but I remained firm that my virginity was not his to take, it was mine to give. He told me that I was stupid not to do what he said, that I was nothing to anyone but him and even then I wasn't much more than the s**t on his shoe. So this continued and one day when he had convinced me to leave school with him and go to my house, he trapped me in my room, pinned me down, and raped me. Every time I protested he would jab me with a pen until I laid still. He had an erection problem and blamed it on me, so any time he couldn't stay stimulated he forced my mouth onto him. If I vomited, he would shove it back in my face and leave me to clean up. Then it would start again. This continued for another 2 months and progressively got worse. By the time he dumped me, I was nothing but a puddle compared to my original self. I like to explain this way, in the beginning I was a perfectly built pyramid. In that relationship he took me apart brick by brick until there was nothing but rubble left. I know I'll never be put together correctly, but I can try. When that relationship ended (and he had a new girlfriend by the end of the day) I didn't know what to do. By that time I felt I was dependent on him and without him I was nothing. I had a friend, Zach, who came and saved me. He took me to Planned Parenthood for a check up and proper medical care. (There were some cuts and bruises that my previous boyfriend wouldn't let heal) Soon, though, he started to take advantage of my weakness and he started to rape me in his own way. Not as physically abusive as before, but he used me and prayed on my vulnerability. He used me for another two months and dumped me out of the blue one day. I believed that I loved him and that he loved me so this came as a big shock to me. It was a very hard and lonely 2 years before I felt I was going to end everything once and for all. I was in a mindless sexual relationship where we didn't care for each other but I felt I needed to pleasure someone because that was all I was good for. Eventually I became so sour, depressed and dark that I almost did kill myself. I stayed for my dad who had recently been diagnosed as manic depressive and I didn't want him to suffer if I was gone. One day I was on the internet and by some remote chance I met a nice man, a REAL nice man. I won't get into it too much, but he proved himself to me by moving 1700 miles and away from his family to be with me. That was almost 3 years ago and I am now married with a one-year-old son. In most aspects of life I am happy, but even now I have horrible nightmares, flashbacks and memories that haunt me almost every day. It sometimes makes our intimate moments awkward and painful and I flash back to my sexual experiences from before. I wish I could put all of this behind me and I have made it farther than I ever thought I could, but the deepest and most disturbing parts of my experiences seem to be hardwired into my mind. They can be triggered at any time and for any reason. I'm hoping that someday I will be able to find a way to vent the remainder of my past and let it be just that, the past.
by Vicki on 12 Mar 2005
I guess it started when I was 12. A man, who lived 2 houses away, invited me in for lemonade on a hot summer day. I said ok... knew the guy and he worked with my dad. I went in and sat on the couch. He sat next to me while we watched tv...he said I was becoming a woman and started going under my shirt to touch my chest (even though there was nothing there). He was feeling me and then told me I had to unbutton my pants. I was only 12 and didn't know what to do so he undid my pants and started rubbing me. He started to put his fingers in me and it hurt. I tried to move away but he wouldn't let me. He kept saying I felt so good and warm and I was crying. Finally he stopped and I was able to leave. I have never told anyone about that incident. 2 years later I was 14. I was a freshman in high school and I started dating Ryan. He was 17 at the time. I liked him and we went on dates a lot. On December 10, 1994 we went on a date. Afterwards we were driving around and he stopped in a deserted parking lot. I was nervous because I had never even been kissed before. We started kissing and then he started to feel my chest. I pulled back and asked him not to. He wouldn't listen. He pushed me in the back of his hatchback car and got on top of me. I told him to get off me and he punched me in the eye. He started kissing me and I tried to knee him in the groin. He got really mad...he slammed my head down and started to punch me in the ribs. Then he took my hands and pinned them above my head. He was kissing me and biting me all over, saying I wanted it and this is what happens to wh*res. He pulled my pants and panties down and started kissing me there. All I could do was cry and beg him to stop. He got back on top of me and just thrust himself inside me. It felt like I was being ripped to shreds; it hurt so badly. I was so scared and shaking really badly. When he was done he started to choke me and told me if I told anyone that he would kill me and no one would believe me anyway. He finally took me home. I took a really long hot shower and cried all night. When I saw him again at school he acted like nothing happened until he brought me around to his buddies. He was bragging to them in front of me and giving them all the details. I didn’t stop seeing him for a year because he would threaten to kill me. He would hold me down for his friends to rape me. I stopped talking to a lot of my friends because I couldn't tell them and I was so ashamed. I finally got out of the relationship when he moved but his friends would still come up to me in the hallway and harass me. After a year I started to date again and started having sex. I figured that I was a wh*re anyway so it didn't matter anymore (which I know now wasn't true). Things are a little better now. I am married with a 17 month old son. I still have nightmares. I don't like to go out by myself after dark, even now. I am now helping one of my good friends through her rape. I don't think you ever fully heal, but the pain does lessen with time. A poem I found written by Kevin Smith of C Talk (a christian band) has helped a lot: “There are angels round my bed tonight. Some are there for comfort. Some are there to fight.” I repeated that a lot while I laid awake in bed at night. Be strong and don't give up.
by Joyceon 11 Mar 2005
I am reading these stories and I feel ashamed at myself. I was molested more than one time in my life, but I never told anyone. I was molested by my friend's father when I was around 8, and I never told him. I thought it was my fault. I was also molested along with my friend at the same time by a very old man that lived down the street. I thought these incidents were my fault, and I never told anyone. I felt dirty. But now I realize that I was too little to be doing something dirty.
by anonymous on 11 Mar 2005
Oh well here starts that long and I’m sure painful journey. My abuse started when I was 8 and carried on until I was about 13. My abuser was my eldest brother, and he was 12 years older than me. He stopped abusing me when he met his wife and step daughter. I thought he was abusing his stepdaughter but still I couldn’t tell anyone. I was scared of people not believing me and scared of splitting my family up. Through out my life, my second brother who was 10 years older than me was always in trouble. He went into care and done a few prison sentences, so my family life was turbulent. Then when I was 19, I told my mum but made her promise not to tell out of fear of what my dad and other two other brothers would do to him. Four days after admitting all to his wife, my brother committed suicide. THANK GOD IT WAS ALL OVER and that monster could hurt no one else. Unfortunately five years later my second brother was killed by a Train.
I never missed my oldest brother and I’m glad it’s all over. But not a day goes by that I don’t miss my second brother.
I have survived, I’ve got three wonderful children and my husband to be is the best. I need to keep strong for my family. This is the first time I have really spoken about it. So thank you for this website and here goes that journey...
by MissZ on 10 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.