![#metoo](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/c_fit,f_jpg,fl_progressive,h_360,q_auto,w_360/pdso80latnmqb4l6o1xd.png)
#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.
By Angie Craig 4 years ago in Viva
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...
By Tarajee Thorne5 years ago in Viva
Law & 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.
By NarcsExWife5 years ago in Viva
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.
By Michelle Brittany5 years ago in Viva
I 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.
By Kota Wolfe5 years ago in Viva
Learning 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...
By Nompumelelo Makhubu5 years ago in Viva
The 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.
By Jenna Lynn5 years ago in Viva