#metoo
You are not alone. Together we can de-stigmatize speaking out about our experiences with sexual harassment, assault, and more.
How I am healing myself after a sexual attack,
How I am healing myself after a sexual attack, I’m sitting in my little slice of heaven, this little café with its comfortable sofas and light jazz playing in the background, my little slice of heaven where I can sit all day and just write and watch the world move past the windows as people hurried along under their umbrellas. Everyone knows me here, they know how I like my coffee, they even know that I always have a coke and ice and will usually be sat in the same place, in the corner by the large bay windows. Here I feel safe, I’m not watched, no one whispering who’s that lady by the window I’m just accepted. My safe place, but I never always felt safe, there was a time when I couldn’t sit anywhere on my own, enjoying the chilled music over a coffee, there was a time when the very idea filled me with overwhelming fear however, here I am, sitting writing about my most inner thoughts, digging into the deep corners of my mind, but I’m so safe in this place that the words are flowing like rain drops today.
Angie CraigPublished 4 years ago in VivaHear My Cry
I don't know what else to do with all of this. These emotions are so overwhelming that it feels like a weight on my chest. Trying to keep a smile on my face in front of my friends and family is very taxing. Sometimes i feel like screaming just to see if that would help. Things at my job of become harder to focus on because I can't stop thinking about how i feel so alone. You might be wondering why i feel this way, what is the reason for me to have this much going on. Well i will tell you. My name is Zeek Taylor, don't ask me why a girl has the name Zeek I think my parents thought I was a boy, anyway, I am 26 years old and I work as a retail sales associate. Well now that you know who I am, I will tell you how everything began. When i was 18 years old, I met this guy who was very handsome and charming. We began to talk as friends an then i began to want more from him. I was still young but old enough to understand how relationships worked. Oh did i mention that i was a virgin also? No? Oh well, there you go. Moving on, I began to start falling in love with him, he was showing me new things and being so kind a loving. Three months into our relationship i decided to take the plunge and ask him to take my V-card. I was excited when he told me he would be honored because he loves me. Well you can imagine i was on cloud 9 right? So one night i snuck out to go meet him, He was in his nice fancy car sitting right out front my house waiting for me. I felt so special, He was being very attentive to my feelings of nervousness and acknowledging that i was terrified. So in order to help me relax he took me to a hotel just so we can have our own privacy with no interruptions at all. Oh! I forgot to tell you guys abut him. Pause a moment and let me tell you. His name was Damien George. He was 21 at the time of us meeting, he worked at another retail store in the same mall that I worked at so i would see him around but not very often, like maybe every month or so. But one day he came into my store and introduces himself to me. You can imagine the rest his history. Well he lived with his parents which i can seriously relate to. But fast forward to the hotel, he had bought chocolates and my fave white roses, it was perfect, it helped me relax and get comfortable more. So as the night went on he began slowly, coaxing me to want him to touch me more. I wanted him to just get it over with to be honest, I wanted to do nothing but be in his arms and belong to no one but him. So i took the first step and kissed him. He did all the rest. By the time all our clothes were off he dawned a condom and said to me "I don't want anything to ruin this moment with you so it better to be protected." I agreed. I watched as he put the condom on and began to get a little nervous. He noticed and came down on top of me kissing me, whispering to me how beautiful i am taking my mind off of everything, and at that moment i felt it. The tip of his penis begins to enter me slowly. It started off okay, but then it grew very painful. I bit my lip to keep from crying and tried to breath through it. i took everything in me not to push him off and run, but then, everything began to start feeling better, still sore, but, good. Before i knew it i was getting lost in him and the feel of our love making. His pace began to quicken and I didn't know why. I asked him to slow down as it was still sore for me, he didn't slow down. Next he pulls out and flips me onto my stomach, I didn't know what was going on but i stayed still. This time he entered me from behind, but something felt off, i didn't feel that rubber latex feel as he began again. I asked him if he still had the condom on, he didn't answer. I tried to pull away just to see if he had it on, but he pinned me down to the bed with his full weight, wrapped both hands around my neck from behind and says, "You will shut the fuck up, don't move and take this dick or you will regret it." At that moment i realized something was seriously wrong. I tried to wiggle to get him off of me but it didn't work, "Stop fucking moving or i will hit you, you little bitch." Now at this point i was terrified. I began to kick and flail to get him off of me. His hands tighten around my neck and I can't breathe. I start to claw at his hands to try and get them off, and then he just..... stops. He grunts and pulls my hair and whispers into my ear, " Tell anyone and i will make sure no one believes a word you say. Who the hell is going to believe a whore like you anyway, stupid bitch." I was shattered. This was the man I thought i was going to be in a serious relationship with. I trusted him enough to give him my first time. I tried to fight him off of me when i became uncomfortable but he didn't stop. Now what am i supposed to do? I laid there crying my eyes out. He comes back to the bed, roughly pulls me by my arm and punches me in the face. I saw spots and lights dancing before my very eyes. The last thing i remember from that night is the feeling of disgust of have from trusting a man that raped me. How am I going to tell anyone? I gave him a yes to having sex with me but in the end it turned violent. As i cry my eyes out walking home at 5am i realized that i have just been played, my first experience turned into a nightmare. How can I trust any man after this? Months pass by and i noticed i started to gain weight. I make a doctors appointment to figure out how come i'm gaining so much weight and how come my period never came. My mom would tell me maybe its because of stress from work, and i agreed with her, so i made an appointment with my OBGYN. There she asks me a lot of questions, some i didn't know how to answer. She later tells the nurse she needs a urine sample from me and to get me ready for an ultrasound. I'm completely confused at this point but if it will help me figure out whats going on then so be it. After peeing in a cup and getting back in the room, I'm instructed to lift my shirt up to my breast, so i do. The doctor returns and tells me she is going to check on an idea she has that could give me all the answers i need. As i'm laying there she squeezes this very cold gel like stuff onto my stomach and takes the ultrasound doohickey and begins moving it around onto my belly. She then smiles at me and says "congratulations Ms. Taylor, you're going to be a mommy."
I Was Sexually Assaulted On The Plane #storytime
June 6th 2016, I am fresh 18, I have packed all of my clothes, sold my furniture and booked a one way trip to London. Why? Because, why not? I wanted a change and instead of wishing for it, I just did it.
Molested
My earliest memories consist of being at my grandma’s house and playing barbies with my cousins. Legos, barbies, and cartoons all children like myself wanted... But why did he start touching me like that? What makes someone think to do that to a young child? Did he learn that from someone else or did it happen to him as well? Regardless of the reason, it was happening to me... I never really understood what was going on just that it happened often and not by only one person.. My whole life has been sexualized, I just can’t get away from it. It happened for 5 years I grew up with it... being touched in between my legs had become the norm for me.. playing daddy and mommy, being a patient, being a toy... I’m not even sure how I feel about it even today... He and they took something from me but I don’t remember what it was or if I can even say I’ve ever had it... is that why I’m so messed up now? Am I trying to heal myself by being messed up in the head today? Doubtful... It took him getting caught by his sister for me to finally talk up. She knew what he was doing to me. She recognized what he was doing, because he had done that to her too... my cousin a few yours older than myself knew what her big brother was doing to me and wanted to stop him... she saw a 9 year old girl being taken advantage of, I wonder what went through her mind.. no one talks about it anymore so I can’t just ask her...
Tarajee ThornePublished 5 years ago in VivaLaw & Order: Special Victims Unit!
I am the survivor of many years of documented domestic abuse and recently filed for a divorce. Unfortunately, the court system is stacked against the victim/survivor because we often lack the resources necessary to hire competent representation and if we can, the attorney’s lack of sensitivity toward their clients. This can make it very uncomfortable for both, because the attorneys client is dealing with issues they know nothing about, which causing more trauma and many times victim-shaming by the person who is supposed to be protecting them, without them even realizing it. This often causes a PTSD response from the victim/survivor making the attorney think their client is literally out of their mind half the time and making the victim/survivor not trust the attorney to know what is best for them.
NarcsExWifePublished 5 years ago in VivaViolated
I would first like to start this off by saying this isn't a hypothetical analysis on what the potential effects sexual misconduct can have on a victim. I am here as a victim of sexual assault. I speak on behalf of experience.
Katelynn MariePublished 5 years ago in VivaSurvive or Thrive?
My journey through abuse has been long, exhausting and at most times it felt never ending. I’ve spent most of my life feeling like I’m drowning and I’m still learning how to navigate through my life as an adult, even though I sometimes still feel like a vulnerable 10-year-old girl.
The Restaurant Diaries
Let’s pick up a few shifts, as a side hustle while in school, I thought to myself. After all, working as a bartender or server in a high end restaurant in a big city can yield some nice cash. If you’re a student or at the beginning of a career with many expenses and zero third party support, making some extra bucks to alleviate the struggle is appealing. However, it comes at a price.
Michelle BrittanyPublished 5 years ago in VivaWe Are Not Black Sheep
I… WE are NOT black sheep. WE are radiant glow-in-the-dark sheep. Not white, not red, blue, yellow, or any other ordinary primary colour. WE are the sheep that lead the way, the beacons of light that fought, survived and shattered cycles.
Marnie GrundmanPublished 5 years ago in VivaI Wish I Could Say I Am at My Best
You used to be a good friend to me. My movie pal, my gym partner. When I got with someone that I had been close with for a bit, you weren’t happy. You’d start leaving the room if I got calls, you’d start being snappy with me and just downright mean. You never used to be like that with me ever. You were always careful with me because I’m often sick and frail. I never even neglected our friendship despite the relationship. It got bad, you got worse. You started shouting at me all the time, cornering me. I was scared, so scared of you. I never felt safe anymore and I didn’t know how to tell anyone. I ended up crying a lot. You got so mad the last night you stayed and you shoved me into the counter and raised your hand to me. I was terrified and crying. It was 2 AM and I begged you to calm down or the neighbors would complain. I was shaken. I finally managed to go to bed. You had a date the next day and I was happy for that. I always told you put yourself out there. I woke up to you touching me, and I tried to push you off and told you no please stop. You didn’t. You kept going and telling me how pretty my body was and it would be such a waste not to. I cried. I didn’t have the strength to shove you off and you kept me pinned. When you were done you fixed yourself up and left for your date. I had tears coming down my cheeks and laid there in silence. I curled up with a stuffed animal feeling so broken. I didn’t talk to anyone much at all. My partner didn’t even find out until later in the evening because of one of my roommates who I had cried to silently about it before passing back out. My partner was angry very angry. Authorities were called and you fled the state.
Kota WolfePublished 5 years ago in VivaLearning to Love All of You
I’ve struggled with my body image for years. Even when I was tiny I thought I was fat, but this is not a story about body image in the usual sense. It took a lot of years of breaking emotionally and mentally for me to finally figure out that my self image isn’t mine. I was molested when I was 3 years old, and from that point on, I never felt comfortable with my body. I remember I would never undress in front of anyone, and when my mom had to bathe me I felt filthy, unpleasant and unusual. I was a child with body image issues. I grew up this way and no one understood; instead, family members made fun of me for it... I finally told my mom about what had happened and I think I was 5 years old by then. She tried to hide her pain but I could see it in her eyes as she told her sister. There was a family meeting and true to patriarchy and the burden of family, she was told not to lay charges against my cousin who had done this to me. I was taken to a doctor to get checked up and I suppose I was alright physically, but mentally and emotionally, I’ve carried the shame and disgust of my own self from the moment it happened...
Nompumelelo MakhubuPublished 5 years ago in VivaThe Side of the Modeling Industry No One Talks About
I started modeling when I was 18, just a few months after I had given birth to my first child. I was married then, and my husband at the time was in the Army. I wanted to build a life more than just being a stay at home mom. That title didn't seem fulfilling enough for me.
Jenna LynnPublished 5 years ago in Viva