I am 21 now, and looking back at 16 seems like centurys ago except for the rapes. I have just started to really come to terms with how this effects my life and personality and how to overcome it and live with it as part of my life and not the whole. I dated this guy maybe twice. He was from the wrong part of town and dabled in everything from drugs to gangs. But he swore to me he was finished with it and I believed him. I enjoyed his attention and flirted with him like crazy at school just becuase my parents had told me to stay away from him. I realize now I should have listened to my parents, but I was tired of being a good girl and this seemed like a good chance to go a little wild. We done things with my friends for about a month and then my parents gave in to let me date him. We went out twice and I was ready to dump him cause I found out he was back into drugs and things like that. We were in his bedroom and I told him I didnt want to date anymore. He told me he loved me and I just laughed. I remember thinking it was silly that he could fall in love so quickly, and he knew I wanted to wait till I was married to have sex, so it was a last attempt for him to sleep with a virgin. He asked if I believed him and I said no! , that I thought he was just trying to get me into bed. This is when he lost control. He said something about showing me he would sleep with me and not leave me cause he loved me and in a whirlwind he was on top of me. When I left his parents and his grandparents were sitting in the living room listening and laughing. He still had his knife at my back and told me to go in the bathroom and fix my makeup. He came in and washed the cuts and bandaged them and told me I shouldnt be so stuborn and I wouldnt get into things like this. He brushed my hair and kissed me on the forehead and told me I should be going home, my mother would be worried and we couldnt let her know we were having sex. I went home and took a long shower. I was able to hide most of the bruises and all of the cuts. He had put them in places that were not noticable. The bruises that did show never even drew any questions because I was a dancer and learning lifts with partners and got bruises all the time. He called me that night to say goodnight and he loved me and I told him I was going to tell, he said that since I had taken a shower and his family had heard everything there was no way to prove it, and I knew he was right. After that I avoided him like crazy and this made him extremely mad. He asked me why I was denying love. I told him to go away and that is when my friend jumped in and told him off. She didnt know about the rape but knew he wouldnt go away. He got mad and tried to cut both our throats. She told her mother and he was thrown out of school. To make a long story short for a while he followed me and shot at me, broke in on me, ran me off the road in my car and just made my life miserable for getting him kicked out. Then all of a sudden he said he wasnt mad and wanted to make up. This was when he followed me and broke in a raped me more times than I care to count. He told me that he was consumating the relationship and now I would never be able to get rid of him fully, a part of him would always be with me. He eventually eased off when I learned to stalk him back. I would follow him and he would go away for awhile. I know this isnt the best solution, but it is all I can do. It will be 5 years this october. I know that eventually I will heal and he will go away. I just wonder when. red
ICQ: 74348450
AIM: redprincess3000



At the age of 7,i was a very shy and quiet child. i was always eager to keep the peace. i think that is what made an easy target. my mom worked in an hospital emergency room and my dad was in training for the fire department. One particular day their schedueles conflicted so we had to get someone to watch us. Naturally my mom picked someone from our church. This woman had a 14 year old son. Well, she had to go to the store for just a second and she thought we'd be okay for just a few minutes. She thought wrong. As soon as she left he took my little sister(she was 5) and me into a room and shut the door. He instructed my sister to stay at the door and not to open it. He put me on my stomach on the bed, and pulled down my pants. He proceded to sodomize me in front of my little sister. i was so scared for her. i wanted to tell her to run away, but i couldn't even cry. Right after, i locked myself in the bathroom and cried. The lady had come home by then so nothing had happened to my little sister. She heard me crying in the bathroom and asked me what was the matter. i wanted to tell her so badly, but i was so afraid. i just told her i wanted my mom. Fast forward 7 years. i was with a boyfriend who supplied my drug habit. i did the drugs to become numb. i was dropping acid and he was sober. hmmmm. anyway,i was on his bed just vegging, he took off my pants and went down on me because he thought i was out. i started to fake a seizure and he stopped. He told me that i had taken the pants off myself. needless to say i was long gone and drug free in no time. i finally told my parents a couple of years ago. since then, i have grown and healed. i too have latched on to Tori's music for inspiration. She seems to know what we all feel like. i started listening to her at about the same time i started getting weird. i was very modest about going to the doctor. i wouldn't go for an appointment without my mom. i developed a strange hatred for the color pink (i was wearing pink pants at the time of my rape). i would get really strange around spring break (when the rape happened). i couldn't hug my own dad. That was the hardest thing for me. i love my dad very much and i know that broke his heart. nowdays i'm doing a hell of a lot better.

Des Fry



Four years ago, I was raped by my then boyfriend. It is still hard for me to admit that to myself by typing it -- that it was rape. For a long time I wouldn't use that word to talk about it. I would call it anything else to avoid that word. But, it's time I call it like it is -- he forced me to have sex with him against my will. That's rape.

He & I had dated on and off for almost 2 years when it happened. At times, things had been pretty serious between us. I was in college, though, and he wasn't, so we saw each other pretty rarely (I didn't have a car and he only came to visit me a couple of times). He and I would break up and get back together all the time. Probably dozens of times in the nearly 2 years I knew him.

We even had sex (consensually) a couple of times. He was actually the first person I ever had sex with. However, after having sex with him a couple of times, I decided that I just didn't want to anymore -- that I wasn't ready. He acted very supportive and understanding. I thought things would be fine, and they were, for over a year.

We were still physically intimate. We would make out and stuff, but there was no sex, or even sexual touching, because it made me so uncomfortable (I still don't know why it did -- maybe some part of my brain had figured out what kind of person he was). One afternoon (it was Memorial Day weekend) we were over at his house. His parents were having a cookout with all of their friends and we had gotten horribly bored so we went downstairs to his bedroom to hang out. After playing some computer games and stuff, we got to messing around, but that ended and he went upstairs to get something (I don't remember what). I laid down on his bed and fell asleep (I used to do this all the time -- it was no big deal).

I woke up with him on top of me. He was putting his hands inside my clothes and touching me in a way we had decided was off limits. Here I am, looking at my boyfriend laying on top of me and trying to figure out what was going on. I kept telling him to stop -- asking him what the hell he was doing, but it made no difference. I started crying when he finally pulled down my pants and put his fingers inside of me. He told me to be quiet or his parents and their friends would hear and "know what we were doing". For some reason I shut up instead of crying out for help. This has been the hardest thing to forgive myself for and I don't know why I did it. He raped me, and I was crying, but trying to be quiet. Afterwards he actually kissed me gently and thanked me and left me to get dressed. I didn't know what to do with myself. I thought about calling the police on his bedroom phone, about telling his parents. I didn't do either. I went upstairs and asked him to take me home.

For a long time I wasn't sure I had been raped. After all, he was my boyfriend. Not only that, but I didn't call out for help from the people that were right upstairs. But it was rape -- I know that now.

Two weeks later, I missed my period. I went got tested -- I was pregnant. I still hadn't told anyone about the rape. Even though I hadn't talked to "the boyfriend" in the two weeks since it happened, I felt like he was the only one I could tell about the pregnancy. I called him and told him about it. I was a mess. I was so angry and him for what had happened, and now I was pregnant and scared. I decided to have an abortion -- please don't judge me for it, I'm still not sure I made the right decision, but unless you've been in that situation (pregnant from a rape) you don't know what decision you might make, either. He actually helped me pay for it. The day I collected the money from him was the last day I saw him. It was so very hard to accept help from someone who had hurt me so badly. It made me deny what he had done to me for a long time.

I found out later that there was a history of sexual abuse in his family. He and his older brother had been abused as children by their uncle. Either he or his older brother (there was some confusion about this) had molested his younger brother the year before I started dating him. At times, I've felt that knowing this about him should mitigate my anger. It doesn't. It adds anger towards the man that initially hurt him, but it doesn't give him an excuse.

I still have never told my family about the rape or the pregnancy. Once, a couple of years ago, when I was really drunk, I told two friends. I have no idea if they believed me, because they never brought it up again. I'm married (for like 3 weeks now) and my husband knows and understands. He is so wonderful and understanding. He still has trouble with the self-loathing I can feel, and his feelings are sometimes hurt when I flinch away from him when he touches me.

I feel like I'm doing better, though. I am still very angry at the guy who did this to me. It makes me feel small and cowardly that I never reported it to the police, and I pray every day that he doesn't do it to someone else (although I can't think of a reason that he wouldn't). I'm learning to feel worthy of love and worthy of life. I'm still struggling to be a sexual creature again. That is probably the hardest thing for me to deal with -- that he took my sexual identity from me. One piece at a time, I feel like I'm putting myself back together.

I'm so thankful that I've been able to tell my story. I think we need to work very hard to remove the shame that surrounds the victims of rape. We have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. I know how it feels to want to make it all just disappear -- to pretend like everything is ok and that I don't feel all broken on the inside. But that's not the solution. I am broken on the inside. Pretending it isn't that way will only make it worse.

We can get through this together.

Emily



Hi, my name is Kathryn and I am 22 years old. I was raped when I was 17 by one of my closest male friends. It's hard enough to type the word "rape" because I can't force myself to say it. I guess that's my way of denying it. Anyways, it was during spring break of my senior year in high school. I was going to his friend's apartment with him to go swimming. His friend worked during the day, so he wasn't home. We were talking for a little while and I left to use the restroom. When I came out he had a crazed look on his face. He started tickling me and wrestling with me. He knew that I didn't like him touching me. I kept yelling for him to stop touching me. I knew something was wrong because he wouldn't stop. I kept running for the front door, but he would catch me as soon as I got there. Yelling did not help me because no one could help me. I kicked the walls and screamed hoping someone would hear and save me. That just pissed him off. He drug me upstairs to his friend's bedroom. I remember hanging on to the rail as tight as I could because I knew what was going to happen to me up there. He did everything except anal sex to me. The whole thing lasted what I think was two hours. After a while I had to stop fighting. I had no more energy and I thought if I didn't fight, it would end quicker. I can remember wondering why no one was saving me. This wasn't supposed to be happening to me. I would try to cover my face with my hands, but he would hold my hands down because he said he wanted to look at me. He kept saying "I'm not going to! stop until you come!" Finally it ended. He let go of me and I ran downstairs. He yelled after me, "I'm sorry, can we talk later?" He acted as if nothing really happened. I met my friend and she talked me into going to the hospital to get checked out. They automatically reported it to the police. That was a blessing because I probably would not have reported him on my own. He was only 17, so he only had to serve one year. I later found out he only served 6 months. It has been a tough couple of years. I have finally found someone special and we have been together for over a year. He has been so patient and supportive through all of this. I know that this will be with me for the rest of my life. It haunts me almost everyday. However, I am dealing with it better as time goes by.

Kathryn



I started to fill out the survey, and there's a part where it asks you to tell what happened... and suddenly I was spilling it all out, crazed on no sleep and finally writing exactly what happened, all of it, not lying to myself...

I was able to get to sleep, just as the sun was coming up, and slept peacefully for the first time in a year and a half.

I'm not calm now, I just read it again and I'm very shaken, very sick to my stomach, but I know I can start from here, can face this and kill it.

So here it is (very triggery, PLEASE be safe)
*
T
*

Joshua (my assailant, my ex-boyfriend) had just come home from basic training and would be leaving for Hawaii in a week, where he would be stationed for the next three years. He called me up, and I agreed to go with him for coffee and to talk. At the coffee shop, we talked about our on again/off again relationship, and we agreed that it was best to call things off. I'd dressed in jeans and a loose tshirt, sneakers, nothing special.. he was dressed the same. We each (I thought) understood that this would be a last "date" and were okay with being distant friends. Something was different in him, he seemed a bit on edge.. but I figured it was because he was being stationed so far away, and was still strained from Army basic training. After coffee, he suggested we go to our old hangout, a local little cemetary near his family's house. "Just for old times' sake." I figured, what's the harm? and went along (he was driving). We got to the cemetary around 11pm, wandered around pointing out the headstones we used to laugh at, the dark corners we used to make out in.. he still seemed really tense, but I thought, "this is hard on him, poor guy." We sat down under a big tree in a dark corner of the lot to talk, and he got closer and tried to kiss me. I started to get a little uneasy, but what the hell, he was leaving the next week. Then he got more aggressive, putting his hands on my breasts, and under my shirt.. I pulled away, tried to cool things off, and stood up to head back to the car - and he shoved me back against the tree, hard. I was shocked, and angry, told him to back off and take me home. He got angry at this, told me he'd come here with me because he thought we would have one last fling before he left, that he deserved this after so long in the Army camp.. he told me I owed him this. He kissed me, he pawed at me I tried to shove him away, to get out from under his hands and told him again and again to stop, to get away, to take me home. He said he'd wanted this all through his time away and knew I would come here with him.. finally I got a hand free (he had my legs pinned against the tree with his legs) and clawed him across the face. His face got dark and he was furious, slapped me hard across the face and shoved me down to the ground against the base of a headstone. I cracked my head on the stone and nearly blacked out - I wish I had - I got so scared and hurt so badly that I just froze, couldn't move, just concentrated on breathing as he tore my clothes off. I was sobbing, but couldn't make a sound, it was like my screams and cries were stuck in my throat. He pulled the knife out of his pocket and flicked it open, held it to my throat.. said if I screamed he'd cut the scream out of me, slow enough to hurt. At that point I just went numb, clawed into the dirt to keep from breaking into pieces and screaming - concentrated all of my energy into not screaming so that I'd stay alive. He unbuttoned his jeans and - I'll never forget this - spread out my shirt under his knees so he wouldn't get his pants dirty. When he shoved himself into me it was like I was splitting wide open, I had to bite my lips so hard I tasted blood so that I wouldn't make a sound.. he was going and going and said he couldn't come, that it was my fault, he said he could tell I'd been a whore while he was away (I'd only slept with him once, before he left, and never with anyone since - I thought I was in love with him, I was sixteen then and seventeen when he came back), and that it was my fault for being so dirty, so I'd have to make up for it. So he pulled out of me and made me suck him off, kneeling over me with his knee on my chest, I could barely breathe and he went to the back of my throat - I fought not to gag, and almost threw up when he came all down the back of my throat, but I didn't make a sound, just dug my fingers into the dirt and stared at the streetlight I could see at a distance, fixed on that streetlight and thought of that street, so far away from the dirt and the tree and the headstones in this corner of hell. When he was done with me I just lay there, I couldn't move, I couldn't feel anything but pain, everywhere. He spat on me and called me a dirty whore, he said he'd given me what I wanted and now he was leaving, said he'd find better girls where he was going. Then he put on a normal tone of voice, said he’d had a good time and asked if I wanted a ride home!! I couldn’t find a voice to answer... he threw my clothes at me, went over to his car, and drove off. I assume he went home, I didn't look.. just looked at my streetlight, off in the distance, and slowly got the strength to stand up and lean against that tree. I don't know how long the whole thing took or how long I stayed there, staring at that streetlight, but I somehow walked home (it wasn't all that far) and crawled into the house.. no one had waited up, so I balled up my dirty sticky bloody clothes, put them in a garbage bag, and threw them away.. the trash collectors took them the next day, no one ever saw them. I remember feeling the desperate need to get clean, to get into the shower, to scrub the whole night out of my skin and my hair and my mouth... I stood in the scalding shower for god knows how long, until the hot water ran out, and then I stood under the freezing cold water for even longer, hoping it would wash me down the drain with it. I couldn't get the dirt out of my fingernails for days... the dirt under my skin is still there. I can feel it, even o! n those days when I'm so numb that I can't tell if I'm breathing, when I bleed to see the red well up, because the little hurt reassures me that I'm still here.

I'm still here.

Rachel F.
AIM: blnk9



first off, i just want to say that i don't even deserve to be on this website. i wasn't raped, but i was assaulted, and the only reason i'm writing this is because my friend thought it would help to get it out of my system. i don't really know where to start, so i guess i'll just start. i have a very close family. when her first grandchild was born, my grandmother started a tradition that every friday night, every family would come over and bring their kids, so we could know our cousins. this tradition is wonderful, and i wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. i love most of my family. they are wonderful people. we have assigned houses for holidays. aunt patti for thanksgiving, aunt joanne for halloween, aunt carolyn for the 4th of july, aunt reen for easter, and gam and pop's for christmas and everything else. i guess it was like 2 1/2 years ago when it happened. my aunt reen, on easter, asked me if i wanted to sleep over her house, and i already knew that my other 9 year old girl cousin was staying there, so i figured it couldn't be that bad, even though i had a bad feeling. i accepted, and i stayed there. when we, me and my boy cousin that's my age, decided to go to bed, my younger girl cousin came with us to sleep in the room with us. all 3 of us stayed up untill like 2 in the morning talking about just about anything 13 year old minds could muster up. we wanted to stay up all night, but we weren't going to make it, so we crashed. one boy cousin on his bed, one girl cousin on bed, and me, i got the floor. it was about an hour later when he woke me up. 2 months younger, but a lot stronger, he got on top of me and told me to take my shirt off. he got up and turned on the light during the time i was saying that he was perverted and to go back to bed. he told me then that he was drunk, because he had consumed one beer. ONE BEER! one beer does nothing. unfortunately, i was 13 and i didn't really know that, so i blamed it on that for the longest time. he came back over to me and felt me up, while my 9 year old cousin lay above me in the bed. i, well, i kicked him in the balls, and he got off of me right away. he went back to bed, but before falling asleep, he said a word that will always be imprinted in my mind: "nowhere" i didn't know what he meant untill later that night when i realized that he meant that it would go nowhere, in other words, don't tell anyone, or i'll hurt you. i suffered in silence for only about a week when i told one of my best friends, best guy friends, big mistake. when you are generally afraid of guys, you shouldn't tell them your biggest secret. after that night, i told my best girl friend, she was a little more sympathetic, being that she understood me in the way that only survivors can. she helped me for a while, but that was all, because she was over it, and i didn't want to hold her down from enjoying life. some way or another, a whole sh*t load of people found out. i didn't really care, it was controlled soon after, and i just wanted it to go away. 2 years went by when i was finally at my breaking point. i didn't know what else to do, so i started to take prescription pills from my medicine cabinet, basically anything i could get my hands on. it didn't matter that it didn't make the pain go away, it was a 2 hour escape, and it was something i thought i needed. the soph hop came around and i was going with a guy friend of mine that i didn't really know all that well, but i knew him, and that was all that mattered. my mom picked him up, and made conversation on the way there. turns out, he knew my cousin and he thought he was a pretty cool guy, i was pissed. i was slow dancing with him when i asked him if he could beat him up for me. he was on the wrestling team, and the first thing he asked me when i came into the dance was "can i beat anyone up for you?" i just laughed, but i asked him this later. he responded in a way that neither one of us will ever forget. "he never did anything bad to you, so i can't do anything to him" i started to cry and dragged him to the side of the gym. i told him what happened, and he just held me for like 10 minutes straight. i felt a peace that i had never felt before, almost as if he usderstood too. well, we continued to call eachother and talk for a while when he finally told me that he did understand. i knew that he was going to help me, so i confided in him completely. we went on a retreat with my youth group. i had been on the retreat before, and i was expecting a great experience. i got one. while on the bus on the way home, i was stupid, and i listened to triggering music. (very depressing) i started breaking down right there on the bus, in front of everyone. my best friend came and sat next to me and calmed me down. she brought me to the back of the bus and just let me cry on her. i was very distraught, so i told her to bring my other friend, the boy that understood, back to me. they both prayed with me, and calmed me completely down. by the end of the night, i was in the front of the bus telling everyone what had happened to me 2 years before. well, months went by and i was doing great, untill this past august 2000. my cousin's brother was sleeping over my house, and that day, we were alone in the house. he tried to rape me. i told my mom about this one, because i wasn't going to let him get away without a scatch. she did nothing about it. she basically told me that i didn't say no loud enough. i am still having a hard time dealing with it, and i am so blessed to have my friends with me. they are the functional part of my family, and i really owe them my life, more than once. i hope that my story helped someone, and if anyone ever needed to talk, just email me. i promise to get back to you. oh, by the way, say a prayer for me. i am telling my mom about what happened tomorrow at school with my guidance counsellor. wish me luck.
*KEEP ON LIVING! SOMEONE LOVES YOU!*

katie m.



My first experience with sexual abuse started when I was 7 years old. My grandpa would always have me sit on his lap. And he would put his hand into my pants and shove his fingers into me. I don't know why he did this, but I do know I never told anyone about it until about 3 years later when it was found out that he was also abusing my older cousin. I always felt so ashamed that I had lied about it until she came out and said something too.

Then it happened again 7 years ago. October 6th, 1993. I was only 12 years old. My parents were out of town for a week and so they had me stay at my cousin's. Another cousin of mine, "Will" was there also. We were all having fun. Playing board games, laughing, watching tv. And then my other cousin "Chrissy" decided it would be fun if we started drinking. So we did. And I didn't drink much cause I didn't like the way it tasted. Will asked me to go upstairs with him and hang out. So I followed him into one of the bedrooms. We were talking and he told me how much he loved me. How he was the only man that was ever going to love me. It made me happy to hear this, my family really wasn't very open about feelings, so it was great to hear it.

He started touching me, and it felt good, so I figured it was okay. He told me that it was gonna be our wonderful secret and that he wanted me so much. So he forced himself inside of me. I cried and asked him to stop. But he decided that it felt to good. So he didn't. He told me he'd kill me if I screamed, or told anyone. So I didn't. After he was finished, we went back to the "party". But he made me go upstairs two more times that night. And no one seemed to notice. I started to drink a lot more every time he'd let me come downstairs. I was passed out on the porch when my parents came to get me. I got yelled at for drinking and I was afraid to tell them what happened.

Then 4 months later I found out I was pregnant. I told my mom, who in turn told my dad. And they decided it would be best for me to have an abortion. I cried the entire way there and I decided I had to kill myself on the way back. I tried to commit suicide on March 14th, 1994. Obviously I failed miserably. I stayed in the hospital for awhile. Things didn't get better for years. I slept with a few guys, thinking that was the only way they would love me.

And then about 7 months ago I was reintroduced to a guy that I had fallen in love with when I was 15, he was the only one who refused to have sex with me, because he was the only one that really loved me. We have since started dating again. I think that maybe now I can finally start to heal. And I'm hoping that he will help me.

Katie



It happened. I never thought that it would happen to me. I've watched so many friends go through it, but never, in my wildest nightmares had I ever thought. . .

This is my freshmen year at college. I was in my room one night after going to a party. There was this kid that I had met up on campus who came to visit me. He wanted to make popcorn. I let him, not thinking anything would happen. then he started to kiss me. He was high, I was begining to sober up. I didn't want anything to happen while I was in that state of mind, so I told him to stop. he backed off for a minute, but he then pulled me onto my roommate's bed. He continued to touch me and kiss me, and no matter how hard I faught he wouldn't stop. He had his way with me on my roommates bed!

I can't even say the word. I cry myself to sleep every night. I told my roommate, but no one in charge. I have to see him everyday. I want to kill him. I was a virgin before this. He stole everything from me.




 
 
 
 
Back to Barbados....