#metoo
You are not alone. Together we can de-stigmatize speaking out about our experiences with sexual harassment, assault, and more.
Stand with Survivors
"I believe you." Those three little words can make a huge difference to someone who’s been sexually assaulted. During the rise of the me-too and TIMES UP era, we heard stories about women who never reported their assault.
Silence From Someone Doesn't Mean They are okay
"Why I didn't report it", "This is Not Consent" and many other movements that allow not only women but men and those that are apart of the LGBTQ+ to tell their story and share their truth with others. When people see abuse and this message. Hopefully people can relate to this and be able to tell their own if they experience it without being no longer afraid or worried because they have the support from others that experience it and see the importance of consent and that everyone feeling is fucking valid.
Narleysia NicoleePublished 4 years ago in VivaA Letter to the Ones That Assaulted Me
I think it’s better. I think I’m over it. I think that I have grown and completely overcome the harsh experiences life put me through, you put me through.
gray petersPublished 4 years ago in VivaA Letter to Survivors of Rape
The shame is not yours. Shame does not come from within it comes from outside of ourselves. Rape survivors are made to feel ashamed for the crimes committed against them. Society finds excuses, tries to defend offenders and silence the hurting.
iceprincelebratPublished 4 years ago in Viva(Improved) Controlling Fear
Trigger Warning: Sexual Assault Content and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder That night was the night that changed my life forever. Changed my view on men and how I just walk around town. I would have never gone to that dance if I knew what was going to happen. Now, every time that I see him my body goes cold, and I struggle to catch my breath. That monster ruined my life for good, and there is no changing that now. I just wish that someone would believe me when I tell them the truth. If he did it to me there has to be more victims out there too. I can’t be the only one.
Natalie C..Published 4 years ago in VivaIt’s ok to speak up
Most have heard my story but i’ve decided to speak on it publicly now to raise awareness. My first sexual assault experience was when i was 6 years old at my grandparents house. Won’t mention who but the abuser was biological family & a teenager. He had been dating around, having girlfriends over.. I was close to this person because he lived with us & paid the most attention to me. The first time it happened, was just his hands but we were laying down on blankets in the living room watching the scary movie “Child’s Play”, there was 3 of us.. me, him, and one of my sisters. My sister left to go to bed, which left us two by ourselves. I should’ve went too but being so young to know what it was & him being my family, I honestly never expected anything. He held me close because i was scared of the movie & grabbed my bottom, he put his hands down my pants and touched my private parts. I didn’t say anything because i didn’t know what it was, if it was wrong or what to do. For a reason i’m unsure of, it made us closer, i noticed he would lie for me or take blame for something i did, At the time i thanked him, because being 6 years old, getting the corner for 10 minutes & not being able to play outside was the ultimate punishment but i understand now he was only grooming me because the assaults kept happening. The second assault was in his bed during another movie, he had just had a girl over and i had walked in on them making out. My sister was also in the bed with us. It was right after a bath my grandma gave me, i had only a nightgown and underwear on. During the movie, a funny scene came on and i laughed, he said “what’s funny?” and started tickling me, my sister joined in on tickling but got called into the living room by my grandma and i was dying of laughter, he started tickling my legs and eventually touched my private parts, trying to tickle me there. His finger got stuck on the inside of my underwear which exposed me, he moved his fingers around and told me i was “so adorable”. My grandma called him in the living room & i got up and left. I just thought that’s what was supposed to happen because he’s my family and he “loved me”. I told my grandpa about how my private parts were being tickled, so he confronted him, kicked him out and it never happened again. Fast forward 7 years, I was placed in a foster home, which i was one year from being adopted into, this home was a single mother with 2 sons, household. I fell in love with the family and thought my life was perfect. The younger brother who was 11 years older than me, lived in the home. He wasn’t the typical 24 year old, he acted young, had a playful personality, liked most things 24 year olds call “childish”. He clung to me and he became my big brother that was my bestfriend. My adopted mother held her own, worked long shifts and came home past 5 everyday therefore he was the person who took me to every appointment, take me to school if i missed the bus, pick me up from practices.... I spent most of my time with him. Every morning before my adopted mom would leave for work, she’d open my door and check to make sure i was still in my bed. One summer morning in particular, she checked in on me & left the door open. That morning i got woke up to my adopted older brother over top of me with his clothes off and private parts exposed, he was looking down at his private parts, rubbing it against mine . I thought i was having a nightmare and freaked out. I kicked him and started screaming. He jumped up and started apologizing, begging me not to say anything & not to hate him, said it was an accident, that he couldn’t help himself. He said that i would ruin his military career and that if i told my adopted mom, she wouldn’t adopt me anymore, which is his biological mom so i didn’t tell. When i got older, i could have boyfriends but only at the house supervised & no touching, not even holding hands or hugs. My adopted brother would make remarks to them like “whatever you do to her, i’ll do to you”, “she’s got a nice ass, don’t she?”, “don’t those jeans make her ass look so good?” , etc. Multiple times i had caught him taking pictures of me when i bent down or bent over to get something. It got to the point where it was uncomfortable to move. I started dating a boy my sophomore year and we ended up having sex, my adopted mother found out the same day because i missed practice and took me home to pull instullation as punishment. My foster brother went to that boys house and put a machete to his throat but did not hurt him. I started cross country my freshman year, it was my coping skill to get things off my mind, my way to run away for a few hours... it helped but when i got home from practice, i was drowning again, constant arguments and fights with my adopted mom and having to face my adopted brother everyday with sexual comments and remarks about my looks, i felt trapped... like he owned me. A few years later, 2 girls got moved into our home, one was 15 and one with the same exact birthday as me. The one my age, became my bestfriend, and since we shared birthdays, we considered ourselves sisters/twins. By this time, my adopted brother had moved out about 20 minutes away. I told my foster sister about it almost 2 years after she moved in. She was shocked and was scared because he’s around the house a lot. That halloween, my adopted brother was taking me to one of my appointments & since i was 16, i could drive but only with him there (over 21). So i drove to my appointment but on the way back, I told him about drama that happened at school and he got frustrated and made the comment “that’s like raping someone and being let off the hook for it” , as to which i made the comment back “you would know”. My adopted brother pushed me against the window and hit the steering wheel, while i was driving & we swerved onto the other side. On Christmas that year, it’d been since Halloween that my adopted brother came around our house, so my adopted mom made the comment “i wonder why he hasn’t been around, he won’t answer my calls or texts and he acts like he’s mad at me”. My foster sister says “i know why” and then looks at me. I look down at the floor because all the focus is on me. My adopted mom takes me to her bedroom away from family, with my foster sister and asks me why he’s been gone. my sister says “just tell her bree, you need to tell her”... so i tell her and she starts crying and hugging me, asking me repeatedly why i hadn’t told her. The very next day, she changed the security alarm codes, the locks to the house, locks every bedroom window and calls him to tell him he’s no longer welcome at our home. A few weeks pass and my adopted brother calls my adopted mom and asks to take her to dinner to talk. My adopted mom comes home with a new attitude towards me and says “you’re only trying to ruin his military career” , i try to explain to her and tell her he’s lying, that it’s true & she throws her plastic cup, full of water & it hits me in the right ear. Life went to hell after that, i was in Co-Op at school, which is where i had enough credits to graduate, just took electives until 1pm then left to work. I skip work to hangout with my current boyfriend and my adopted mom finds out. She takes the battery out of my car, takes me out of co-op, shattered my phone, and had me at the couch from the moment i got out of school to the moment it hit 8:30pm, then straight to bed. No TV, only homework. She checked my closets nightly for hidden phones and recorders. My current boyfriend & my foster sisters boyfriend showed up at church, which had the same Sunday school class as my adopted brother. During prayer requests, my adopted brother made one & said “strength to not kill my little sisters boyfriend”, so my boyfriend made a request that was “strength to not kill my girlfriends molestor”, the room became loud full of screaming and arguing. My adopted mom put me in the truck and went inside to talk the situation out with our Pastor. I took it as an opportunity to run away and get free from the hell. I kissed my niece and nephew & handed them my phone so i couldn’t be tracked and told them to keep it to remember their aunt bree”... i ran so fast i almost passed out, i went about a mile down the road until i reaches our church’s neighbor... i knocked on their door and screamed “help me”, they brought me in & called 911. 911 shows up, takes my statement of why i ran & puts me in an investigation room. After interviewing my adopted mom & my adopted brother, they released me back into custody of them. The state trooper looked me dead in my eyes and said “stop making things up just so you can keep your boyfriend” , mind you that i told her about it before a month before i got in trouble so it had nothing to do with him. Things stayed the same, my adopted brother came over a lot, didn’t say anything just stared. My niece and nephews mother called CPS on my adopted mom because i ran away & an investigator came out to talk. I used it as an opportunity to get out. Their mom told this investigator about all the hits and remarks that she’d witnessed , all the harsh punishments i received, how i had ran away once before for 13 hours to a trap house in the west end of Louisville just to get away from my mom. She spoke to me in my room and i told her i felt as if mine and my foster sisters life was in danger. My foster sister had a therapy appointment at our foster care agency in 40 minutes. We all left and went to her therapy session, the investigator followed. That night we were placed into a foster home.
Aubree Madyson BrucePublished 4 years ago in Viva#metoo
I didn’t have a story to tell until I heard her story. The #metoo movement had just begun to take shape and no matter how many times I saw or heard it I couldn’t sympathize. Growing up my parents were extra careful with me about everything. They had me late in life and after several miscarriages, so they were very strict. I hate it how strice they were until now because I didn’t have a story; so her story became a story.
Skittlez SneedPublished 4 years ago in VivaThe Forgotten Assault
I still remember my first day as a first-year law student. My head was held up high, eyes still sparkling with pride, and the infamous almamater jacket hung on my shoulders, perfect against my frame. The dream I had since I was ten years old was finally coming true as I took my first step into the building of the best law school in the country. Hailed as an intellectual hub where the brightest of minds with the bravest of hearts bonded together, studied together, all under one roof. Our professors are prolific, some with names already etched in the history books of our nation. The sense of pride was nearly overwhelming as I had one goal in my mind, to make a difference and always strive for justice. I was among those who fought for the same values as I did, in the neverending battle against injustice, discrimination, and inequality. They surely couldn't be that bad, right?
Avalon MorgensternPublished 4 years ago in VivaA Rough Go Of It
CW: rape, suicidal thoughts, PTSD My friend and I are sitting on his balcony. He is passing me a half smoked joint through the cold night air. We’re talking about a girl we both know, who was going through a breakup at the time. I make a comment about how terrible her ex was, to which he responds “yeah as far as guys go, she’s like you, you’ve both just objectively had such a rough go of it”. At the time I remember agreeing and laughing it off with a comment about how I always have had bad taste in men. But that comment kept me awake at night. How do you know? I think. Do you know about it?
purple and bluePublished 4 years ago in Viva#metoo
This is a story of a day I can't seem to forget. Believe me, I've tried. Caution: this may be a trigger warning for some people. Read with caution and exit if needed. Thank you for reading.
Madeline KeysPublished 4 years ago in VivaInnocence.
as·sault /əˈsôlt/ a physical attack a concerted attempt to do something demanding If you're reading this it's because one of two things. Either you're looking at the cover photo and thinking "Why is this girl laying on a rock and crying? I would think that would be rather uncomfortable.” Or you've come because you’re here to read a very unfortunate story that was my reality.
RAINN harsher punishments and changing the stigma
*** Warning this article deals talks about sexual assault, trauma, and rape. It also talks about my experience and the experience of those of who I have talked to, it in no way is meant to represent everyone.
Sarah BeattiePublished 4 years ago in Viva