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I don't know how in detail I can go here because I do not want to pursue legal action for anything. I truly do not know how bad everything was and how much is gaps in my memory, I only know that he hurt my dog in front of me and yelled at me and cursed at me and called me things at such a young age that I couldn't understand. I was a defiant child and I learned to be sexually exploratory at a very young age due to not understanding what was happening. I just knew I was forced to hug others without clothes on and that I was pinned down upon occasion for money incentives when I was really young and that I was touched by someone for something necessary and medial but that the wrong person did it to me and got carried away and made it about more than the medicine. I learned to be okay with it in my relationships as well and my first one was very weird, I was forced to act ways I did not want to and forced to go on dates or else the person would threaten to hurt themselves. I am in a healthy relationship now though. I don't really know how to describe what has happened to me because I don't think I have been raped per se but I feel like I have been taken advantage of my whole life.

When I was 18 and away at my first semester of college I was gang raped at gunpoint. My PTSD started one year later. I had a very difficult time with work and relationships. I was never able to get married or have children.

Im 20 years old now but when I was 12, I was sexually Assaulted while visiting my Hometown. When I was 12, I had an odd sense of how I viewed love and attraction. For example, while visiting my hometown I often went out with a friend who knew many of the kids who also grew up there. She introduced me to a group of boys who were either family or family friends. I tried to be nice but they just kept putting their hands on me every chance they got. Even thought I knew it was wrong and felt kinda uncomfortable, I tried to like it and think maybe they think im beautiful or that im desirable. But that night one of the boys convinced me to get food with him. It was common for food stands to be in the alleys because the roads were very crowded with people. I went but there were no food stands, just a dimly lit alleyway. Before I knew it, I was pinned and he assaulted me. I felt like I left my body just trying to blank out everything. When it was done he left first and I was trying to process what happened. Prior to this, I didn’t know what sex was or even seen boys exposed. I walked out alone and saw my mom sitting with the other women there. I didn’t tell her. I never told her. I was too scared and ashamed. At one point I tried to turn it around and think maybe this was okay and Im finally a “grown up now” but no matter what, I kept coming back to how I just froze, I didn’t like it and it wasn’t okay. I tried to tell my mom when I turned 18 but i didn’t tell her the full truth. I just told her about the groping to see what she would say or think. She got upset and said “Don’t let boys do that or they’ll think you’re easy.” That really shattered me so I didn’t end up telling her the rest. I’ve pretty much kept it to myself for about 8 years now. And recently, I learned that he died in a motorcycle accident while on his way to work. He got hit by a truck. When my family heard, they were sad for him and his family. I wasn’t angry at them, they didn’t know. And i felt pretty conflicted because I wouldn’t wish this on anyone but I still couldn’t get over what happened. I just want to move on and maybe gather the courage to share this with my family someday. If not, im glad I shared it here. This is the first time I heard about this movement and my first time sharing it. Im glad I finally let it out.

I was SA'd multiple times by my now ex boyfriend. He was 18 M and I 19 F. He also made some comment about how "no one will believe you because I'm the one who's younger/closer to the age of consent". I will be pursuing legal action once I go back to the state of where the crime happened. I will be traveling back for Thanksgiving. Trying to figure out if it technically counted as insertion as it was through clothes but that was obviously the intent. He also lied about being over his porn addiction which had allegedly been solved 2 years ago. He manipulated me into not telling my and his parents about said addition because he said that he hadn't told his parents. Later, he said that he'd told a mutual teacher (who is misogynistic and legitimately horrible). He'd force himself on me- he had about 50 pounds on me and about 6 in (15-16cm) on me. So the only way to remove him was to cobra wrap him with my legs and twist him off. I knew that this was my only way of escape because it was the only muscle region in which I was stronger than him (my max lift on adductors is 205 lbs/93 kgs). Just realised what it was- I broke up with him this past April and only realised the past few weeks. And now I'm having flashbacks and other PTSD seeming problems. And he thinks we're still friends even though I told him that I'd block him. He has no idea what he did or the damage he instilled. There's also some religious trauma because he said that I needed to "pray my anxiety away" when it's physically just a lack of serotonin. So I can't even go to a church because I'm so bitter. I know I can solve this for myself, but I don't want any other girl to get trapped by him. I felt asexual a little before all of this happened and now that feeling is stronger- am I still validated in that?

Témoignage d’une survivante de mutilation génitale féminine Ce jour-là, on m’avait dit que je devais aller voir le tailleur pour une nouvelle robe. J’étais tellement contente. Le matin, on m’a réveillée très tôt, bien avant mon heure habituelle. On m’a fait prendre un bain chaud, puis on m’a habillée avec ma robe préférée. Ensuite, on m’a prise par la main pour, disait-on, aller chez le tailleur afin de prendre mes mesures. Nous sommes arrivées dans une famille où des cris d’enfants retentissaient de partout. Des femmes étaient assises, chacune tenant un morceau de vieux pagne auprès d’une fille. Je pensais qu’elles attendaient leur tour chez le tailleur. Mais j’ai vu une vieille femme sortir des toilettes, d’où provenaient des cris stridents, accompagnée d’une fille en larmes, demander pour la prochaine. J’ai voulu fuir lorsque j’ai vu la troisième fille sortir, mais on m’a retenue. Jusqu’à ce moment-là, je ne savais pas ce qui se passait dans cette toilette. J’avais peur, car les filles en sortaient en pleurs et la vieille femme venait ensuite chercher chacune d’entre nous à tour de rôle. Lorsque mon tour est arrivé, j’ai suivi la vieille dame. Je n’avais pas la force de me débattre contre les deux femmes qui m’accompagnaient. Elles m’ont conduite dans la toilette, où se trouvaient deux autres veilles femmes. Elles étaient trois : deux pour me maintenir et m’écarter les jambes, et la troisième tenait un petit couteau ensanglanté entre ses mains. On m’a déshabillée et fait asseoir sur une pierre. Elles ont alors procédé à l’opération. Jusqu’à ce jour, je n’ai aucune comparaison pour décrire la douleur que j’ai ressentie. Je ne trouve ni les mots ni les explications pour la décrire. Après l’opération, on m’a entouré les reins avec un petit morceau de pagne et le reste a été plié pour former une sorte de caleçon que l’on m’a fait porter. La douleur la plus insupportable est survenue lorsque j’ai eu envie d’uriner. Je n’ai aucun qualificatif, aucune explication et aucune comparaison pour décrire cette douleur. On avait préparé mon plat préféré, mais je n’ai pas pu manger. On m’avait également préparé ma boisson préférée, mais je n’ai pas pu boire. Ce n’est que lorsqu’on m’a dit que cela pouvait réduire la douleur que j’ai essayé de boire et de manger, mais la douleur était toujours là. Je ne pouvais pas m’asseoir. Je ne pouvais pas me coucher. Même rester debout me faisait mal. J’ai passé trois jours dans cet état et une semaine pour recouvrer de cette douleur forte.