I met a guy from another country on the net...we chatted on the net & on the phone for over a year, and then we finally met. We spent the day together, but it was kind of weird, and I wasn't 100% sure about him in real life...he on the other hand gave me an expensive gold necklace and told me he wanted me to be the mother of his babies...when we parted he was in tears, really crying because we didn't know when we'd see each other again.
I felt a bit confused really, and thought I needed to see him again ASAP so that I could figure out how I really felt about him and where the relationship was going. We both booked flights & met in the middle, and I had insisted we booked rooms in separate hotels, in case we didn't get on.
Within half an hour of checking into my hotel, there was a knock on the door, it was him. We kissed, and I asked him if he wanted a drink as I'd just put the kettle on, but he ignored me, and started kissing me, and pushed me on the bed...I said I wanted the toilet, so that I could diffuse the situation. When I returned I went over to the kettle and made my drink, asking him if he wanted one, and making a point of saying how hungry I was, and that I thought we should go out for a walk and find somewhere to eat.
We never got out of the room...he pushed me on the bed, and sat on top of me so I couldn't move...he inserted his fingers hard into my vagina, again & again. I said "you're hurting me" but he just carried on...I begged him "please..you're hurting me"...he had a look on his face like he was really engrossed and enjoying it. I figured that the best thing I could do was stop struggling so it would be over quicker. I just lay in silence looking at the ceiling, but then he started hitting me, punching my chest & my breasts...like he was trying to beat a reaction out of me....I looked at the flaky paint on the ceiling, just waiting & praying in my mind that it would be over soon. It seemed to go on forever.
When it ended, I didn't know what to do...I just needed to get out of that room. I left...but he followed. I didn't know where to go or what to do, I went in the hotel restaurant, and he came and sat facing...I tried to pretend everything was normal so it didn't cause a big scene. We ordered food, but I wasn't hungry anymore. I tried to eat a little to keep up the pretence of "normality", he sat telling jokes.
I said I thought it was time he went back to his hotel, he said he thought it was time we both went back to my room...I was really scared, I couldn't go back there, cos I was scared what would happen...I just kept telling myself to stay where there were lots of people. I wanted to run outside, but what if he followed me? It was after midnight and there were no flights until the morning...I eventually ended up in a casino - he came too, by my side, like we were an item....so I had no choice but to stay there all night. He accompanied me to my room to collect my things and insisted on seeing me off at the airport...he told me he loved me & tried to kiss me...but I pulled away & put my bag in the scanner, and went through customs.
When I got home and saw myself in the mirror, I cried & cried....I was battered black & blue from my chest to my thighs. He'd hit me so hard, that it hurt too much to even lie down to sleep...the bruises lasted over 3 weeks. They were there like a constant reminder of everything that had happened.
I struggled to make sense of it all
He called me to say he thought we should end our relationship - I couldn't believe he had the guts.
I still couldn't make sense of it, eventually I plucked up the courage to call him and ask him why he'd done it...but it just rang, or he would hang up when he heard me speak. It became a bit of an obsession for me, I NEEDED to ask him WHY??? I NEEDED to understand why he'd done it...especially to someone he supposedly loved.
One day he finally spoke to me..he said "there's no point keep phoning to beg me to take you back, it's over, just accept it and leave me alone"...I couldn't believe it, it was like nothing had happened and I was chasing after him....I asked him why he did it....he said "don't lie, you enjoyed it", I asked him why he kept doing it even though I cried out for him to stop...he never answered me, just gave me a load of abuse about "you're such a fat, ugly, bitch, nobody would ever want to touch you, I mean come on, I did you a favor, cos nobody else would go near you"
The months that followed were bad...I struggled just to get through each day....I had recurring dreams, I was depressed, I felt suicidal. I didn't know who I was anymore, I questioned my sense of judgment, my life was literally shattered into tiny bits.
It's 4 years ago now...and I have "moved on", my life is good again, I'm really happy, but I will never be the same person I was before.
by Sam on 28 Jan 2005
How do I start? I was 2 when my grandfather molested me. My parents started leaving me with him and my grandmother while they were at work, because it was convenient, free child-care; even though my dad's sister told him years earlier that their father had been molesting her. My dad chose not to believe her. My grandmother had even told my mom that Granddaddy had been messing with some of the young girls in the neighborhood, but mom didn't believe he would touch me, I guess. It was a chance they chose to take at my expense, and I'm still paying for it to this day.
I wonder sometimes why God made me remember this when I was only 2 when it happened-- how much easier my life would be if I didn't remember. But I do remember. I can see him setting me on his left knee so vividly, him sitting in his chair in front of the TV. in the living room. I see him unzipping my pants, and putting his right hand with that awful crooked middle finger inside my underwear. I don't know how many times this happened, maybe only once, but once was enough to bring me a lifetime of pain and insecurity. Where was my grandmother while this was happening? Why didn't she protect me when my parents failed me? What must he have done to her, to make her look the other way?
I remember my Mom giving me a bath one night after this had happened, and I told her I was burning "down there." She asked me why, and I told her that maybe it was because Grandaddy had his hands down there. They never let them keep me after that, but it was too late; the damage was already done. They hoped I would have no memory of it, and since I never mentioned it to them while I was growing up, they assumed I didn't remember. Then I came home from work one day when I was 18, bawling, and I kept saying "I remember."
I didn't realize it affected almost every aspect of my personality development until 3 months ago, when I was hospitalized for depression for the second time in two years. The depression hit me when I was 25. All the coping mechanisms I had developed that kept me alive and "well" up to that day disintegrated in one fell swoop. That was 3 1/2 years ago. The only protection that remained until 3 months ago was denial. Now I know where the unrelenting pain is coming from-- why it feels like I am grieving. I feel like I don't know who I am. I have this deep, deep need to be loved, to feel loved by everyone. I crave affection from older men, even though I have a wonderful marriage, even to the point of having an affair. I am very insecure. I fear failure, of never being "good enough." I feel tainted and alone most of the time, even if I'm in a room full of friends. The bottom line for me seems to be that I loved my grandfather, but he didn't love me. And my parents and grandmother essentially abandoned me. And the pain won't go away. And nobody around me, NOBODY, understands the pain...
by Lucy on 28 Jan 2005
I was 8 when it started. My daddy, the most important person in the world to me, would come into my room at night. Drunk and most likely stoned (I knew my daddy smoked weed) he would creep into my room and finger me or perform oral sex on me. He was my hero and I used to say how if he died I would jump into the coffin with him. I always thought he thought he was with my step-mother, he was just to drunk to know. I never cried while it happened. I would act like I was asleep and I would try to push him off or to fight him, but we all know that doesn't work. Around when I was 10 I actually ran from him and called the police, but daddy wasn't far behind me and hung up on the operator. The next morning the police showed up asking who had called and why. I wanted so badly to tell them why but I couldn't. When I was 11 I was on a camping trip with my best friend Stephanie. While we were walking around the campground we were talking really deeply when I told her about daddy. At that moment she revealed that her brother had done similar things to her. We then thought if we tell her parents maybe they could adopt me. He was also physically abusing my older brother and me. I remember my brother having black eyes and fights so fierce we wound up in the front yard beating the sh*t out of each other. But like I was saying, the whole time from 8 to 12 he would come in at least 3 nights a week and molest me. No screams, crying, I would bite and kick and resist. At 12 I started to think, "What if I became pregnant with my fathers baby?" Granted he still hadn't gone that far and I hadn't started my period but I knew it was coming soon. So I made a pact or a promise to myself that next time it would not happen. So when he came to do it again I was awake and waiting. He just told me good night, kissed me on my forehead, and left. I called my friend Stephanie and told her about my promise and I told her I would be there in about 30 minutes and asked if she could meet me. I made my bed and wrote my daddy a letter saying that I would rather run away then ever let him touch me like that again. When I met up with Stephanie we talked about the possibilities. Finally it came down to me making one call to the local sheriffís department. I was so surprised how quick they showed up, but also how many were there. I swear at least 10-15 different patrol cars came through. They asked for my story, tried to calm me down, and tried to figure where I would go. First, I was taken to an abuse center and examined. Then, they took me to the county Juvenile detention center. I was in there associating with the female inmates for the next three days until my biological mother's parents came and got me. But the thing is I never have nightmares or emotional breakdowns. I hurt when I think about the memories and I still talk to my dad I just can't ever forgive him. I'm 18 now and I live with my boyfriend. It's really hard to talk about and some of my family members will never forgive me for bringing the truth out. But I know in my heart what I did was right and what he did was truly wrong. He still hasn't said sorry.
by Amber Dawnon 28 Jan 2005
It's always hard for me to talk about my sexual assaults but I always feel better after I let it out. I got married when I was 20yrs old, with this guy I had been dating for 4 years, we had sex a couple of times before we got married, but that was because I was never into sex, and of course he was, but he always respected my decisions on the subject of sex. Soon after we got married he began getting very possessive over me, and started laying down rules for me, he didn't want me coming home late and I had to wear non revealing clothes and the house always had to be clean, if I broke any of his rules he would beat me with his belt on my buttocks, and tell me it's for discipline. In his mind since I am a woman I had to respect & obey him at all times, and that he was the ruler of the house, so if I disobeyed he would punish me with his belt. Well I wanted out of this marriage as soon as possible so I started getting very distant from him, I would go out with my friends and come home late and he would once again beat me with his belt for coming late, well one night I came home around 11pm, he was fed up, he took ripped off all of my clothes somehow, he hit me on my backside so many times with his belt that my buttocks started getting bruised really quickly, he threw me on the living room floor and forcefully had sex with me for up to an hour. The next day I woke up in the bed still naked, I was so sore and I couldn't sit or walk, he walked in the room with a serious look on his face and told me "This is what will happen if you continue to disobey me, and I hope this taught you a lesson to never cross me", all I could do was nod in fear that he would brutally rape me again. The next day I had to ask him for permission to go to my cousin's house, he said "sure, but you better come home in time", well of course I was terrified, I told my cousin I had to find a way to leave him, I showed her my buttocks and she started crying, she said "OMG..you are all bruised up" and I told her that he made me have sex with him, she immediately told me that she was taking me to the hospital, but I begged her not to and that I would be ok. Well the time flew by when I noticed the time, it was 9:45pm and he wanted me back by 7pm, I never told her I had to be back at a certain time, I simply told her it was getting late and that I was tired, otherwise she would not let me go back. as I pulled in the driveway I saw another car there, I figured my husband called one of his buddies for a drink, so I was relieved that he may be too drunk to notice the time....well I was WRONG, once I walked in him and his buddy were drinking, he looked at me and started yelling at me, he made me go into our bedroom and told me to wait for him, a couple of minutes later and his friend went in the room, my husband told his friend to hold me down on the bed while he undressed me, at this time I was screaming and crying which was received by a couple of slaps to my face so I can "shut up", my husband and his friend took turns raping me, while one of them would hold me down, after what felt like hours his friend fell asleep on the floor, and my husband fell asleep right next to me, after I knew they had passed out from all the alcohol they had drank, I drove back to my cousins house and she immediately took me the hospital once I arrived they examined me, and saw how my body and my face was bruised up, and they checked for vaginal damage, and found many tears that had me bleeding, I didn't want to talk about who raped me, I told my cousin not to say who it was, and the nurses just told me it was up to me if I wanted to press charges against the person who did this.
Shortly after I was released, I filed for divorce, I claimed that my husband abused me, but I never told the court that I was raped by him twice and I never told them about his friend that raped me as well, the divorce settlement is still going, and it's been a year in a half already, sometimes he calls me at my cousins house or at my parents house pleading for forgiveness, I told him that I can never forgive him for what he has done to me, not only was I physically harmed but my soul & spirit was harmed and bruised as well, and that can never completely heal, and I will never forgive him for this, I am 23 years old and I have my whole life to still looks forward too, luckily I have really good male friend who has been supportive and a rock to me, we recently have started going on some dates, and just taking it real slow, he understands what Iím still going through and has been very patient and a total sweetheart to me, Iím thankful that I can at least move on with my life.
I hope anyone who has gone through traumatic times like these, that they know that there is light at the end of the tunnel and eventually you will reach it and be happy once again.
by Jazmin on 26 Jan 2005
When I was about 4 years old I was raped by my uncle. This carried on for many many years and ended when I was eleven years old; when he got married. He has 1 son now. I hate him, I hate him. Hate is not the word-
Iíve never in my life told anyone about this until now. Itís affecting me like hell. I canít do anything right anymore! I always keep asking myself why me??? What have I done to deserve this??? I was a child. A child! An innocent young child who didnít know the meaning of sex. I am nearly 19 now, and I have never told anyone. I have had a rotten and scary childhood. He has affected my whole life. The worst thing is that no one knew and I have had to keep facing him all these years like nothing has ever happened. Even now! He makes me sick. I cry myself to sleep- I really donít know what to do. He took something very precious and valuable from me; my virginity. And the worst thing is that I canít even remember loosing it because I was so young. Iíve always had that part missing from me. I donít even know who I am; and I never have. My childhood was full of disgust. How could he do that to me? Be so cruel?! I am always so confused and depressed. I have never had the courage to tell anyone before. I have always had to hide my emotions and pretend like I am just like everyone else. He made me feel so dirty and disgusting! I have tried to forget what happened - but I still get nightmares. I am finding it extremely difficult to study. I am now at university studying for a Law Degree. I know that my grades could be much better if my mind wasnít so troubled. I am still very very troubled by my childhood; and I am so afraid deep down inside, I feel so alone. I have no one to tell; I am very scared to tell my family- it will destroy them. While he is just getting on with his life like nothing has ever happened.
The worst part of all this is that I had this one best friend; and she is my cousin as well! We did everything together- relayed on each other. I cared about her so much and she cared about me a lot too. We went to the same school for eleven years and then to the same college- and we done the same course. I suppose that it was our very close friendship that brought our families close together. I even remember one time when I was in my first year of school I told her what my uncle was doing to me. I didnít really know what myself I was just describing the way things happened. We were both about 5 years old, and we were at the school playground. She just started laughing; I remember it very well- that was the only time I ever mentioned it. So we both grew up together- and I became very attached to her, I really cared about her, she was my best friend. Anyways one day after our A-LEVEL EXAMS, about 16 years old, our family decided that we should go on holiday together to visit our family. We were all excited, the first time going together. Unfortunately it turned out to be the holiday from hell. My other uncle; my attackerís brother proposed to her and she has fallen madly in love with him. They have never known each other before, until that summer! They got married (just marriage certificate) and are waiting to have the wedding until he gets his visa. The problem is that I care about her a lot. Since sheís been married she has changed and doesnít want to know me. Itís like sheís a different person. I would be very happy for her but I cant because I know that he is no good for her. Not just because he is my attackerís brother, no- but I know that he also is up to no good, and I am very worried for her. I donít think that I should worry because I am more than certain that he loves her to bits as well and would do anything for her- and I am positive that he didnít marry her just to enter the country- but I know he wanted to come here for a long time. The point is they love each other but he cheats on her behind her back- and seems to think its alright. I cant talk to her - she is no longer the friend I loved and cared about, she is a completely different person. I also am sure that she has forgotten what I told her when we were children. I know he is no good because he has made some inappropriate moves towards me as well! What a mess!! What a mess! I cannot believe the mess my life has turned out to be. Began at the age of 4 and is still affecting me now, and my best friend has married a psycho. I wish if I can talk to her but she doesnít give me the attention like before. Itís her life I know, but she doesnít know what heís really like. Sheíll do anything for him. I canít believe how this has turned out- and who sheís marrying. Even if I tried to tell her I donít think I could because we are from the same family and if I said something it would cause family problems and my parents would find out. I would never have guessed this would happen in a million years. Now all the family is excited for the both of them and only I know the truth. I am totally trapped. I have wanted to pick myself up and leave many times; but I canít because of my culture. I really need some advice. I am so sorry if I havenít written my story very well, but everything just mixed up in my head. I have reached a stage were I canít take it anymore. I canít handle this anymore. I wish if my cousin can come to her senses and leave him, but I know that will never happen. What a life!!!! WHAT A LIFE!!! I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO ADD I WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE HAD A SIMILAR EXPERIENCE TO ME. I CANNOT BELIEVE I HAVE WRITTEN THIS DOWN!
by Sarahon 25 Jan 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.