1. I tried to fight him off.
“When I was 22 I lived with a friend of mine. We had tried dating prior and it didn’t work out so whatever, roommates it was.
We had hooked up a couple of times during this ‘dating’ period we had, and after the fact I thought nothing of it.
He apparently took it as him being entitled to it whenever he wanted to. One afternoon as I was about to leave the apartment to go meet a friend, he decided to act on it. I tried to fight him off, but as I was a good foot shorter than him it didn’t do much good.
It screwed me up for a long time, honestly. I had issues with my self-esteem and took way too many risks with sexual partners after that. I’m married now to a wonderful man who gets it, so thankfully everything turned out okay for me.”
2. I woke up the next morning and my shirt and pants were off and I had blood in between my thighs.
“When I was 16 I was living at home still with my incredibly abusive parents. I was suicidal and had just switched medications. My parents were going out of town for the weekend and decide to leave me at home, I begged to go or have them stay and told them that I didn’t feel safe being alone but they left anyways. Because of my depression I had lost a lot of friends and no one wanted to come over to stay with me. I went on World of Warcraft and was venting about it to some guild mates and my good WoW friend.
My wow friend was 24 at the time and he offered to come stay with me if I was to scared to be alone. I felt weird about it but I really couldn’t be alone and I thought I could trust him so I said yes. On the way there I really really really wanted to say no don’t come but I was worried about offending him.
He got to my house, I let him in and we talked and watched a movie. Things were good. Then we went to Mimi’s Cafe for dinner to get our food to go. When we got back to my house he got me a soda. This is where he slipped the drug into my drink. I suddenly was extremely tired, I couldn’t walk or move. He picked me up and put me in bed. I don’t remember anything else.
I woke up the next morning and my shirt and pants were off and I had blood in between my thighs. My nipples were also bleeding because he had bitten them. He was cuddling me and when I came to he gave me a kiss and said last night was so fun I love you. I was shocked and confused. I also was at a point in my life where I could not mentally handle being raped and losing a friend on top of that. My brain kind of made up a situation where this was all okay and I had wanted it.
I gave him a kiss, made him breakfast and finally got him out of my house. My parents got home later that evening. My mom got a call from one of our neighbors saying that there had been a man at our house the night before. My parents asked me about it and I said it was my friends brother. They called my friend whose parents said no one had been over. My parents lost it and I told them the truth. My mom had my dad drop me off at a youth homeless shelter because she would not have a slut living in her house and within six months I was in foster care.”
3. He ended up molesting my sister and I for the next two years.
“When I was 10 my mom started dating this guy. Shortly after, he moved in with us. He was pretty cool at first but then he started getting really inappropriate. Things escalated and he ended up molesting my sister and I for the next two years. Our mom knew about it too and didn’t do anything. I still feel guilty for never speaking up and telling someone. I could have put a stop to it but I didn’t.”
4. At one point my head banged into his nightstand and I got really fuzzy.
“In my last semester of college, I had a friend, George, who was in three of my four classes. He was someone I had known for a while, an ex of a friend as well as a classmate in my major.
We spent a lot of time together that semester—studying, working in the lab together and going out to meet other friends afterwards. One night we met at a bar around happy hour to run through flashcards and then some friends were supposed to meet us, but never did. I ended up giving him a ride home around 9:30. He invited me in to have a beer and check out his progress on his thesis work (we were art students, so it was a physical piece in his room). Once we walked into his room, he shut the door quickly ‘so we wouldn’t wake up his roommate.’ He started trying to kiss me and I immediately said no way man. He kept gently pulling me towards the bed saying things to try to convince me to stay. I was not having it, and once I really put my foot down and said fuck you I’m leaving he grabbed me aggressively and threw me on the bed. At one point my head banged into his nightstand and I got really fuzzy. I fought him back the whole time, but he was much stronger than me and managed to assault me. I think he may have scratched or bit my neck, because I have a slight scar there from that night.
The fucking scumbag also texted me after I left saying ‘Was this your first time almost being raped?’ I responded, ‘No you asshole, it wasn’t, and you DID rape me.’ He approached me in the lab on Monday and cornered me saying he hoped we could still be friends. I ended up failing all three classes we had together and not getting my degree.
The happy ending is that I reached out to the head of my program a few years later and told her everything. She worked with my department chair to get my Fs turned into medical withdrawals and waived the course requirement for the one credit I was missing, so I got my degree!
The really fucked up thing about this was, I had no reason to ever suspect him. We had spent so much time together, and I had been in his house countless times. I’d crashed on the couch when I was too drunk to drive, I had been alone with him before. I don’t know what made this one night different.”
5. He tried his best to ram what felt like a couple of fingers into me through my jeans.
“I was stepping into a rickshaw in Quetta, Pakistan, when one of the native men standing around in the street stepped up behind me and tried his best to ram what felt like a couple of fingers into me through my jeans. Luckily the jeans were thick and I was wearing a sanitary napkin and his aim was off, but I ended up with a bruise on my perineum. To be honest, I had forgotten about it until recently when I was reviewing my journal from the trip.
However, I still hold anger towards the boys in middle school who thought it was such fun to grab my (still growing and sensitive) breasts—and occasionally my crotch—while passing me in the halls.”
6. I had insomnia and took medication for it…he’d wait for that to kick in, and then rape me.
“I had a boyfriend back in 2012, 2013. My dad died in February of 2012 and I moved across the country to try and get my life back together. So, I didn’t really have anybody here. It was after just a few months that he convinced me to move in with him (we were neighbors in the apartment complex), and it was after that point that things started to take a turn.
He had to have sex, every single night. At first if I didn’t want to, he’d guilt trip me for hours, then days, until I’d give in. Then after a while, he’d start forcing me. I had insomnia and took medication for it…he’d wait for that to kick in, and then rape me. Occasionally he would anally rape me as well. I’d wake up to blood and pain. He was psychologically and emotionally abusive… he would tell me that I just didn’t know what being a relationship meant. I didn’t know what love was. If I loved him, I would do this and this and this. He started restricting who I could talk to.
I don’t think I want to write out the rest of the story. I eventually was able to escape… my mom had to fly out from my home state, which she did at the drop of a hat, and help me pack my shit and run. I worked at a hotel and they let me stay there until I was able to find my new place.
I hate that they call it ‘intimate rape.’ There’s nothing intimate about it. People told me to get back together with him, too. That he loved me and we could work it out. Fuck you.”
7. Tearing my clothes, pushing me down, calling me a whore, saying that I’ll love it.
“I was raped a couple of years ago. I can still remember every second of it… Tearing my clothes, pushing me down, calling me a whore, saying that I’ll love it… His friend held me down while he raped me. And then when he was done, the friend decided it was his turn. And then to make it 10 times fucking worse, another guy in another room came in and forced himself onto me at the same time. 3 men decided to ruin my life that night. I hope they are dead in a ditch somewhere.”
8. I woke up to him thrusting into me and started to cry.
“1st time—College party, I’m not sure what happened, but I kept not getting in my rides cars. The last-ditch effort in getting home was too drunk, and he passed out on the couch and said we’d go home in the morning. A different friend, said I could sleep in his room and I’d be OK (as I was the only girl left). I fell asleep, remember feeling being kissed, passed it off as dreaming and just kept sleeping.
I woke up to him thrusting into me (everything was fairly small, so I didn’t feel anything) and started to cry. Idk if he finished, or what happened. I remember crying, and waking up. My brain has erased most of that night.
2nd time: Ex boyfriend, besides the fact he started the night by cursing me out and berating me, I still thought he was just this drunk sweet angel. I pick him up from his night of drinking, try to make him some food to help sober him up. And he hits me.
I run off, he consoles me, we go back to my apartment. In bed, sleeping, and he begins to force himself on me. Telling me I liked it, and whores liked me deserved this. (He had issues with people I slept with while we weren’t together, despite the fact that he was the one cheating on me) I remember it hurt. I remember crying. And I remember fully consenting the next morning to a different round. Thinking, how could I be raped if this was someone I love?
It took a few years, both times to realize what had happened to me. I am at peace. Idk what happened to the first guy, but my ex. He’s a better person now, and I found it in me somewhere to forgive him for all of it.
Sometime after the ex and I broke up, I dated another POS, that after we broke was convicted as a felon for rape of a woman while he was in college. I hope he gets the worst things life can hand him.
I’m lucky I don’t remember a lot. I don’t want to remember. I’m scared it will happen again. But I know it’s ok, that I’m ok, that I will move on and live. We all will.”
9. I just thought it was something all brothers & sisters would do.
“I was 9 when it started, I didn’t know what sex was until I was around 11 so I didn’t know it was wrong, I just thought it was something all brothers & sisters would do. It ended when I was 12.
It’s been 10 years. I’m doing all right now, I have good days and I have bad days. Opening up to my family was hard, I expected them all to take my side, only my mother took my side, my grandma told me to stop attention seeking and my father refuses to talk about it. When I was 17 I made a police report and he’s being charged with multiple offences. Court has been postponed twice now, it’s been rescheduled for the third of January, I really hope it doesn’t get postponed again.”
10. I just remember crying & being so scared.
“I have two stories to share. One was from about 40 years ago, when I was a pre-teen, walking downtown in my small suburban town with my younger sister. A man pulled up in a truck & asked us where we went to school. He said he had a nephew moving into town & was checking out local schools. We told him. He asked us where it was. We kind of pointed it out. He asked if we could show him. And, stupid kids that we were, we got in his truck. He drove to a parking lot & forced my younger sister to give him oral sex. Of course, we didn’t know it at the time. Knew nothing about sex. I just remember crying & being so scared. He drove us back to town & dropped us off. I don’t remember telling anyone about it. I don’t remember not telling anyone either. I don’t remember what happened. I think I just repressed it all. I only remember years later, when finally seeing a man ejaculate for the first (well, really second) time in my life, that it all came back to me—the ‘milky stuff’ that came out way back when, when we were little & stupid. I tried talking to my sister about it once. She didn’t want to talk about it at all.
The second story is from just a few years ago. I’m now an adult woman, mother to teens, married for a couple decades, more confident than I was back then. I took on a second job to make ends meet, part-time cleaning offices. One of my jobs was at the police station in the next town over. While cleaning the men’s locker room/bathroom, I would usually put my cart across the doorway to the bathroom portion of the room. There were two other bathrooms in the small police station, so I wasn’t really inconveniencing anyone. And, it never took me more than 10 minutes to do what I needed to do. One officer made a point of coming in to use the urinals a few times while I was in there cleaning. When I complained to the police chief (cc’ing the cleaning company I worked for), he must have given them all a talking to. The police chief apologized to me in person. But, the other officers now all joined in making elaborate shows of deference when I was in the locker room, or about to clean it. Not polite signs of respect for the woman who is just trying to make some money cleaning up after them, but sarcastic, over-the-top gestures such as pulling a bench in front of the locker room doorway when they knew I was on that floor cleaning.
I quit that job shortly thereafter. I hope that they aren’t harassing the next poor person stuck cleaning there.”
11. The most frustrating thought I keep having with this is, those men who did it to me probably didn’t think they did anything wrong.
But the most frustrating thought I keep having with this is, those men who did it to me probably didn’t think they did anything wrong.”
12. The worst was when he managed to hold me down and get his hands down my pants and underwear and he whispered in my ear, ‘What’s this I feel?’
“I was 16 and at my first job at a fast food restaurant. He was my manager, older and a bit creepy. It started off with inappropriate sexual comments/jokes, brushing past me too close, grazing over areas of my body ‘by accident.’ Then he got my phone number from the employee files and started texting me lots of inappropriate things (what were my fantasies, my sexual experiences, things he wanted to do to me, etc.) and at work he started following me when I went on my own somewhere (like to the storage closet) and there he would grab me and touch me. The worst was when he managed to hold me down and get his hands down my pants and underwear and he whispered in my ear, ‘What’s this I feel?’
It went on for months. I never said anything because I was so ashamed. I felt like obviously a part of me wanted it for it to be happening and if people found out they would assume I was dirty. Then one of the newer girls complained to our head manager after he did something similar to her and she wasn’t believed. And even worse it got out to all the employees and everyone gossiped about how much of a lying, attention seeking slut she was. So then I was validated in my fears—if I told someone that is what they would say about me and I didn’t want that. That girl ended up quitting because it got so bad for her (the gossip plus obviously the manager still worked there and started treating her like shit).
I didn’t want that to happen and I didn’t want to quit my job because I needed the money. This was around the time of the recession as well so finding a new job was basically impossible because even the fast food jobs were becoming competitive because of all the layoffs in other industries. So I did my best to not be on my own when he was around and I did my best to ignore his texts.
Eventually one of my coworkers and friends realized what was going on to some extent. He went to the manager and threatened to beat him up and stuff if he continued. Around the same time I realized he was doing the same thing to the younger sister of another one of my coworkers, so I told him as well and he also went to the manager and threatened him. In both cases I downplayed what was happening, but it was enough to cause concern (especially for the brother). And it turns out the manager was totally spineless and once he was met with some retaliation he backed off. When I realized this I was also able to be more vocal and to get him to stop harassing me at work. He of course treated me awfully but at least he wasn’t molesting me anymore. A year or so later he quit and I have thankfully never seen him again.
Today I’m doing okay. I downplayed what happened for years and no one knows the extent of what happened except for my boyfriend. It turns out that if you don’t deal with the trauma—even if it happened many years ago, it’s still there and still negatively effects your life (as my therapist explained to me). I’m still wary of men, I never really dated and it took about a year of being with my boyfriend before I felt safe enough to actually have sex. I still have trouble coming to terms with how much of an impact it had on my life—like it was no big deal and people go through way worse right? But obviously it was a big deal.”
13. He pulled the curtain aside and ejaculated on me.
“When I was 7 I was staying the night at my best friend’s house. I got up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water and go to the bathroom. Her older brother—15 or 16 at the time—was watching what I thought to be a magic show in the living room. I think now it was a softcore bondage porn and I thought the pretty lady tied up was a magician’s assistant. Anyway, he was masturbating and followed me to the bathroom, trying to get me to touch his penis. I wouldn’t and hid in the shower. He pulled the curtain aside and ejaculated on me. I never told anyone, mostly blocked it out of my memory. Eventually I assumed it was a (very weird and strange one for a 7 year old to have) dream, but when it came out in therapy, my mom got really quiet and said there was a time when I called her to pick me up in the middle of the night and wouldn’t say why but that I was very upset.
When I was 16, one of my managers at my job lured me to his home under the pretense of needing my help and raped me. He taped the whole thing.
When I was 17, I got drunk for the first time at the same best friend’s house. It was all of our first times getting drunk. The same older brother (moved back in with his parents) followed me into the bathroom held my hair while I puked. Then he stuck his hand down my pants and digitally penetrated me, while I had tears in my eyes and was mumbling no. I remember this vividly and cannot forget his face in the mirror. He applied to be a police officer. My best friend was later angry that I consented to a rape kit. I spent a week in a psych ward after that one. She’s not my best friend anymore.
When I was 19 or so, my cousin’s other grandfather caressed my ass.
When I was 26 my (then) husband raped me. I cried and said “no, stop” over and over again, then shut down and cried myself to sleep when he was done. I was with him for 3 more years before I divorced him. I have never confessed this to my current fiance, and I don’t know that I can.
And you know what’s really fucked up? I’ve normalized all of this in my head SO MUCH, that I look at it and I’m like, Oh, that’s not so bad. That’s not REALLY rape, it could have been so much worse.
These days, I’m mostly fine. I’m out a horrible co-dependent marriage with an alcoholic. I worked with a really amazing therapist, and my relationship with my fiance is fantastic. We work together really well. I love and trust him so much. But, there’s this little part of me that wonders, can I REALLY trust him?”
14. One of the more well-liked guys in our friend group grabbed my breast right in front of everyone while someone else took a picture.
“When I was 17, I got my first job at an amusement park. Everyone I worked with was around the same age, so we all hung out outside of work.
At the end of the season, we all went out to dinner and one of the more well-liked guys in our friend group grabbed my breast right in front of everyone while someone else took a picture.
I was so embarrassed but I laughed it off because everyone else was laughing.
My coworker put that picture on Facebook with the caption ‘[Guy’s Name] having just groped [My Name]’ and then the guy commented, ‘They were nice.’
Apparently he had a list of females he did this to and took joy in it.
This was before I had ever dated or kissed anyone, and it was the first time anyone touched my breasts.
He later started harassing me in my 3rd summer and would tell me ‘You know you’re ugly, right?’ every time he saw me. He was also my supervisor.
At the same job, the next summer, another coworker, who was an assistant supervisor, kept texting me to get me to hook up with him. I repeatedly declined.
After a while, he started taking it out on me by using his “power” at work to give me crappy duties and making sure I was the last to go on break. I told our manager and she talked to him, without mentioning names.
He later cornered me after work (in the dark) when I tried to leave our stand. He’s easily a foot taller than me and tried to intimidate me by towering over me with his hands on both sides of my head (kinda like Gaston). Fortunately I was able to just duck under his arm and walk away, and he couldn’t follow because he wasn’t off the clock yet.”
15. I was ‘so pretty,’ then ‘so beautiful,’ then ‘so sexy’…
“Mom worked 3 jobs for a long time, and frequently left us with family. This wasn’t a big deal until I started developing very young. My uncle groomed me. I know that now…and expertly conditioned me to hide “our” interactions.
I was ‘so pretty,’ then ‘so beautiful,’ then ‘so sexy’…
My aunt found out after a while and she threw him out that day. But the damage was done, and they never reported. (minority community… don’t involve the cops, and don’t sell out your own people)
One of my nieces is at that stage now. 12, tall, beautiful, and developing… And when we go out I can see men look at her. They’re everywhere. Makes me get panicky. I hate to admit it but I avoid being out in public with her sometimes because of it.”
16. I remember feeling very uncomfortable about where he was touching me.
“When I was 11 years old my uncle took advantage of the fact that my parents were outside drinking with their friends and locked them out of the house. He proceeded to get me down the floor and climb on top of me in the missionary position. I remember feeling very uncomfortable about where he was touching me, I can’t remember if he had an erection because I was 11 and not thinking about such things. I fought my way out from under him and he grabbed my cousin, his granddaughter, and did the same thing to her except worse. I didn’t know what else to do beside watch, I wish I had done something. I wish I could have protected her better, but I’ve never been good at reacting during bad situations. I’m doing all right now, my husband likes to surprise me and grab me or snuggle me. Sometimes I just don’t want to be touched at all, even though I desperately love my husband. He is very understanding though.”
17. Woke up to ex (yes, he was an ex at the time) inside me.
“Woke up to ex (yes, he was an ex at the time) inside me. We were staying in separate beds at his parents’ condo for Thanksgiving because it was our first Thanksgiving apart and neither wanted to be away from our son. I guess he still thought he was entitled to me.
Multiple guys switching to anal either without asking or after I’ve said no repeatedly.
A random man grabbed my butt in a store when I was maybe 16.
A man dressed as Jesus grabbed and kissed me at a Halloween party.
The same catcalling pretty much everyone else has experienced.”
18. I found him naked on top of me.
“About a year ago I was invited to a potluck that my uncle was hosting, and I was with my mother. On the way there I questioned about her relationship with her brother and she told me she hated him. Somewhere along the line my mother’s uncle came up and she bravely told me the tale of how she was raped at 16 at a potluck dinner by her uncle. I didn’t think that much of it; my mother is a resilient woman and doesn’t usually crack and tried hard to fight back.
We arrived at the potluck and I meet my uncle in person for the first time in years. We hug and catch up on what’s going on in our lives. My aunt couldn’t make it to the potluck. My grandmother also drove herself to the potluck, but my grandfather couldn’t make it because he was in assisted living.
My uncle followed me to the bathroom at one point. ‘Sorry kiddo, I didn’t know you were in here!’ he explained. His tone was genuine enough that I believed his excuse.
‘Come to my bedroom, I want to show you something.’ I followed him in and he pulled out a suitcase with family pictures–of him and my aunt and him and my mother. A few had him with his beer buddy.
A headache then began to come on and I asked him if I could lie down and take a short nap. He said “sure, I’ll let your mother know where you are” before shutting the door. Went to sleep, and 2 hours later…
I found him naked on top of me.
I tried to scream, but it was faint. I found my shorts and underwear pulled down and immediately my mind made the connection that he was raping me.
‘WHAT THE FUCK—’ I yelled before he put his hand over my mouth. He stayed silent for a while before responding with ‘We have a tradition of making sure our nieces and nephews let go of their virginity. I want to pass that on to you.’
I punched him numerous times in the face which sent him reeling far back enough for me to escape. I raced down the stairs while pulling my shorts back up and told my mother everything. She told me to go wait in the car while she had a talk with him.
He was arrested and thrown in jail. I forget for how many years but I think it’s a lot.
Unfortunately he died in jail, and good on him. I never wanted that man in my life again. His beer buddy kept calling up my mother drunk as hell every day but she ignored him and now it’s a rarity he calls. I also told my therapist this story just yesterday actually, along with the fact my mother was raped at 16.
That incident though is why I’m veering off from dating until I’m older.
And that is the very true story of how, like my mother, I was raped. If you want another disturbing twist, I have autism, specifically PDD-NOS as it was formerly called, and I’m very blessed I wasn’t born with severe autism or was on the moderate end of the spectrum or else I fear I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself the way I did.”
19. If I couldn’t perform long enough she’d keep me up all night threatening her own life.
“When I was 15 I started dating a friend of mine. Things were cool at first, I was excited to have lost my virginity and have a girl who wanted to spend so much time with me. Somewhere along the way she started threatening suicide for attention (I only found out after the fact it was fake) and eventually called 911 about it. She got put away for a bit and her parents kind of caged her after that, she lost a lot of privileges but her parents saw me as something good for her so I stuck around. That’s when she started using all of that as a guilt thing, every time I saw her it wasn’t about having fun, it was only about having sex. After I got my first summer job working landscaping, I was always exhausted but that didn’t stop her desires. She started accusing me of cheating because I couldn’t get it up, if I couldn’t perform long enough she’d keep me up all night threatening her own life, outside of sex she started fights over made up offenses and it often got physical. One time she cracked a rib and another time she cut my finger to the bone. She was so far in my head that I couldn’t get away, all I could do is please her and agree to what a shitty human being I was and always would be.
All of this went on until I was almost 18 and her parents noticed big changes in my personality and behavior. They brought it up to my parents and everything came out, I was punished severely for having sex constantly and she was sent back to her mom in Indiana. I’m doing better now, about three years later, thanks to a lot of patience from my current girlfriend and a decent amount of therapy. There are still some lasting marks from it all, but overall I’m improving.”
20. I’m screaming for help—everyone just walked past.
“I still have occasional nightmares about my rapist ex, but he doesn’t bother me so much anymore, it was a long time ago. What still kind of fucks me up is this man who assaulted me at the Belmont red line stop in Chicago. It was broad daylight, tons of commuters, he’s shaking me and threatening shit inches from my face, I’m screaming for help—everyone just walked past. Bitterly, I hope every capable person who looked at me and then looked away had a worse day, or still thinks about it.
I moved away, but whenever I go back to visit I have anxiety attacks on public transit now. I used to love it. I think it’ll get better the more I open up about it, that’s how I got through the Ex. But right now I’m just not ready. I feel ashamed and terrified–the only reason he didn’t hurt me badly is because he decided not to. So that sucks. I only talk about it on Reddit.
Really, it’s better when I’m not confronted with these stories all day on my newsfeed, but this movement is for a greater good.”