People end up in therapy, this is not funny.
It’s time to open up about this and shed light over this dark corner. It’s time people accept that these things happen, and have already happened to people around us. It’s time to empathize with these victims’ pain.
Warning: The following stories could be triggering to some.
When I was 22 I lived with a friend of mine. We had tried dating prior and it didn’t work out so whatever, roommates it was.
We had hooked up a couple of times during this “dating” period we had, and after the fact I thought nothing of it. He apparently took it as him being entitled to it whenever he wanted to. One afternoon as I was about to leave the apartment to go meet a friend, he decided to act on it. I tried to fight him off, but as I was a good foot shorter than him it didn’t do much good.
It screwed me up for a long time, honestly. I had issues with my self esteem and took way too many risks with sexual partners after that. I’m married now to a wonderful man who gets it, so thankfully everything turned out okay for me.
When I was 16 I was still living at home, with my incredibly abusive parents. I was suicidal and had just switched medications. My parents were going out of town for the weekend and decided to leave me at home. I begged to go or have them stay and told them that I didn’t feel safe being alone but they left anyways. Because of my depression I had lost a lot of friends and no one wanted to come over to stay with me. I went on World of Warcraft and was venting about it to some guild mates and my good WoW friend.
My WoW friend was 24 at the time and he offered to come stay with me if i was too scared to be alone. I felt weird about it but I really couldn’t be alone and I thought I could trust him so I said yes. On the way there I really really really wanted to say, “No, don’t come!” but I was worried about offending him.
He got to my house, I let him in and we talked and watched a movie. Things were good. Then we went to Mimis Cafe and get our food to go. When we got back to my house he got me a soda. This is where he slipped the drug into my drink. I suddenly was extremely tired, I couldn’t walk or move.
He picked me up and put me in bed. I don’t remember anything else.
I woke up the next morning and my shirt and pants were off and I had blood in between my thighs. My nipples were also bleeding, he had bitten them. He was cuddling me and when I came to senses he gave me a kiss and said, “Last night was so fun I love you.” I was shocked and confused. I also was at a point in my life where I could not mentally handle being raped and losing a friend on top of that. My brain kind of made up a situation where this was all okay and I had wanted it.
I gave him a kiss, made him breakfast and finally got him out of my house.
My parents got home later that evening. My mom got a call from one of our neighbours saying that there had been a man at our house the night before. My parents asked me about it and I said it was my friend’s brother. They called my friend who’s parents said no one had been over. My parents lost it and I told them the truth. My mom had my dad drop me off at a youth homeless shelter because she would not have a sl_t living in her house and within six months I was in foster care.
I never ever speak up about this in person but it really bothers me because I was sexually assaulted at a party and I didnt scream or run away or call the the cops or tell anyone or refuse to be near him. I kept hanging out with him. I stayed at the party. I even let him drive me home!
You know why?? Because I dont even know why I just felt like I wasnt allowed to go against him!
I was 15 he was 18. I was not popular like he was, and I was a guest at his house party. I thought nobody would ever choose me over him.
More people need to understand that not all victims can stand up to their attackers. Some of us keep pretending like everything is fine when it’s really not.
When I was a 10 year old boy, I was selling candy bars door-to-door to raise money for our soccer team. My mom always told me, “When you go door-to-door, take your big sister with you.”
I broke that rule once and this happened. I had gone down to the end of the block to sell some bars to my friend’s mom. When I left, I saw that the house on the other side of street had their lights on. My sister and I had tried there the day before but no one was home. Oh, goody, I had a chance to sell an extra bar or two!
I knocked on the door and a chubby blonde woman my height (I was really tall for a 10 year old) opened the door. I explained about the bars for sale. She told me, “Oh look how cute you are! Listen, if you come inside, I’ll give you an extra special treat for your team.”
I was so excited that I went inside, thinking
it would be a big help to my team. Once inside, she started caressing my back and telling me how handsome I was. When she pulled my shirt off, I completely froze in the moment and couldn’t do anything. She took this as a good sign and continued.
When she got me naked on the bed and started stimulating me I could only think “Oh, god, it’s happening again” and went out of my head disassociating. It had already happened to me before. I think she could smell that on me.
When the older boys on the street talked about getting their girlfriends naked, they said it was awesome. What was wrong with me that it didn’t feel so awesome being there?
I’m not doing so good these days either, I am in therapy.
When I was 10 my mom started dating a new guy. Shortly after, he moved in with us. He was pretty cool at first but then he started getting really inappropriate.
Things escalated and he ended up molesting my sister and me for the next two years. Our mom knew about it and didn’t do anything.
Only if I knew how to stop it I could have put a stop to it, but I didn’t.
In my last semester of college, I had a friend, George, who was in three of my four classes. He was someone I had known for a while, an ex of a friend as well as a classmate in my major.
We spent a lot of time together that semester—studying, working in the lab together and going out to meet other friends afterwards. One night we met at a bar around happy hour to run through flashcards and then some friends were supposed to meet us, but never did. I ended up giving him a ride home around 9:30. He invited me in to have a beer and check out his progress on his thesis work (we were art students, so it was a physical piece in his room).
Once we walked into his room he shut the door quickly “so we wouldn’t wake up his roommate”. He started trying to kiss me and I immediately said – no way man. He kept gently pulling me towards the bed saying things to try to convince me to stay. I was not having it, and then I really put my foot down and said f_ck you I’m leaving. He grabbed me aggressively and
threw me on the bed. At one point my head banged into his nightstand and I got really fuzzy. I fought him back the whole time, but he was much stronger than me and managed to assault me. I don;t know if he scratched or bit my neck, but I still have a scar there from that night.
The scumbag texted me after I left, saying “Was this your first time almost being raped?” I responded, “No you piece of crap, it wasn’t, and you DID rape me.” He approached me in the lab on Monday and cornered me, saying he hoped we could still be friends. I ended up failing all three classes we had together and not getting my degree.
I soon reached out to the head of my program a few years later and told her everything. She worked with my department chair to get my Fs turned into medical withdrawals and waived the course requirement for the one credit I was missing, so I got my degree.
The saddest thing about all this was I had no reason to ever suspect him. We had spent so much time together and I had been in his house countless times. I’d crash on his couch when I was too drunk to drive, I had been alone with him before.
I don’t know what made this one night different.
I was a flight attendant and had a coworker on an overnight invite me to go over some contract details in his room after we had spent a few hours drinking. I believed he was gay.
As soon as the door was closed he kissed me. I said no. He pushed me onto the bed until I passed out.
I hate that I did not at least report him to the company we worked for. I never worked with him again on a flight, but I would see him every now and then at the airport crew room. This was over 10 years ago at this point.
I was raped a couple of years ago. I can still remember every second of it… tearing my clothes, pushing me down, calling me a whore, saying that I’ll love it…
His friend held me down while he raped me. And then when he was done, the friend decided it was his turn. And then to make it 10 times worse, another guy in another room came in and forced himself onto me at the same time. 3 men decided to ruin my life that night. I hope they are dead in a ditch somewhere.
When I told my parents about this, they told me it was MY fault for being in that situation. Excuse me? I didn’t ask to be raped. I said NO. Then they came on me. I was scared. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t fight back hard enough to get out.
I do not share this with many people, but I do think it needs to be talked about more.
My dad died in February of 2012 and I moved across the country to try and get my life back together. So, I didn’t really have anybody here except for my boyfriend. It was after just a few months that he convinced me to move in with him (we were initially just neighbours in the apartment complex), and it was after that point that things started to take a turn.
He had to have sex every single night. At first if I didn’t want to, he’d guilt trip me for hours, then days, until I’d give in. Then after awhile, he’d start forcing me. I had insomnia and took medication for it, he’d wait for that to kick in, and then rape me. Occasionally he would also anally rape me. I’d wake up to blood and pain.
He was psychologically and emotionally abusive. He would tell me that I just didn’t know what being a relationship meant. I didn’t know what love was. If I loved him I would do this and this. He started restricting who I could talk to.
I don’t want to write out the rest of the story. I eventually was able to escape. My mom had to fly out from my home state, which she did at the drop of a hat, and help me pack my shit and run. I worked at a hotel and they let me stay there until I was able to find a new place.
I hate that they call it “intimate rape.” There was nothing intimate about it. Some people told me to get back together with him too, said that he loved me and we could work it out. Thank you so much for the advice.
I was stepping into a rikshaw when one of the native men standing around in the street stepped up behind me and tried his best to ram what felt like a couple of fingers into me through my jeans. Luckily the jeans were thick and I was wearing a sanitary napkin and his aim was off, but I ended up with a bruise on my perineum.
And I still hold anger towards the boys in middle school who thought it was fun to grab my (still growing and sensitive) breasts – and occasionally my crotch – while passing me in the halls.
When I was a server in college, I waited on a couple for dinner. Totally unremarkable table. The guy came back about 30 minutes after they left and politely said “My wife left her phone at the table, have you seen it?” I said, “No but let me check with the hostess and the manager.”
When I came back to report that no one had seen the phone, but that I would take his number and let him know if it turned up, he got really angry and grabbed my arm. He accused me of stealing the phone. The manager came over and kicked him out.
Three hours later, the restaurant was closed and I was sitting at a table rolling silverware with some other servers. The manager spotted some movement through the window and went to investigate. The man was hiding in the bushes outside the front door waiting for me!
When the manager caught him, he yelled all kinds of scary stuff at me through the door. He said he would make sure I repent what I did, that I was a pretty girl, and that he was going to follow me home to get the phone back and ‘then some’. I was so scared I had to arrange for someone from work to walk me home for over a month to make sure I made it home safely.
I’m a straight male, for context.
About ten years ago while on a college break I went to a St Patty’s day house party with a bunch of my closest high school friends. The host’s brother was there, who I didn’t know well, but he seemed like a pretty typical meathead.
None of us drank in high school, so we were laughing at ourselves while exchanging college drinking stories. I told one of mine, and for whatever reason the brother didn’t believe me (the story was nothing special) and got really mad about it. He then challenged me to a fight but I was like “nah I’m good” and it seemed to deescalate. A minute later, I was sitting down at the time, he proceeds to sit on my lap. I’m kind of stunned because it’s just very strange. He weighed much more than I did and I tried but could not push him off. Meanwhile all my friends are laughing at the situation as I struggle to free myself. I start asking and then pleading for their help, but they just watch and laugh as he then grabs hold of my crotch, sits for another minute, and finally gets up.
The whole thing was incredibly bizarre but obviously I felt very violated. I told my friends they were assholes and they waved it off “what? it’s funny, not a big deal, chill out”. I ended up dropping all contact with the host (since it was her brother I expected her help if no one else’s) and years later my other high school friends still didn’t understand why I hated her. Her brother came out years later, which doesn’t really change anything about what happened, but I guess maybe there was something going on there behind the scenes in his head.
I think about this incident whenever this stuff gets brought up. And when I see championing people attacking these shameless molesters all I can think is “you had a chance to stop an incident that took place right in front of you and you just LAUGHED.”
I was 9 when it started, I didnt know what sex was until I was around 11 so I didnt know it was wrong, I just thought it was something all brothers & sisters would do. It ended when I was 12.
Its been 10 years. Im doing alright now, I have good days and bad. Opening up to my family was hard, I expected all of them to take my side, but only my mother took my side. My grandma told me to stop seeking attention and my father refuses to talk about it.
When I was 17 I made a police report and hes being charged with multiple offences. Court has been postponed twice now, its been rescheduled for the third of January, I really hope it doesnt get postponed again.
This one’s from about 40 years ago, when I was a pre-teen, walking downtown in my small suburban town with my younger sister.
A man pulled up in a truck & asked us where we went to school. He said he had a nephew moving into town & was checking out local schools. We told him our school. Then he asked us where it was. We kind of pointed it out, but then he asked if we could show him. And, stupid kids that we were, we got in his truck.
He drove to a parking lot & forced my younger sister to give him oral sex. Of course, we didn’t know what was happening at the time. We knew nothing about sex. I just remember crying & being really scared. He drove us back to the town & dropped us off. I don’t remember telling anyone about it. I don’t remember not telling anyone either. I don’t remember what happened. I think I just repressed it all.
Only years later, when finally I saw a man ejaculate for the first (well, technically second) time in my life, that it all came back to me – the ‘milky stuff’ that came out way back when, when we were little kids. I tried talking to my sister about it once, she didn’t want to talk about it at all.
Two years ago on New Years eve I threw a huge party and somehow there were only two single people there, me and this guy Owen, my best friend’s boyfriend’s roommate.
Owen joked like 15 times that he ‘would have to’ kiss me at midnight because we were the only single people. I said no every time and finally I quietly said “I swear if you try to kiss me I will deck you”. I made sure I was across the room right at midnight. Over time it became clear to me that Owen’s roommate never wanted to come to events I hosted, or hang out with me at all really. Even my best friend became really distant and when I asked what was up, she said that I was really rude to Owen for no reason and they didn’t appreciate that I never gave him a chance.
Some people don’t give a crap if you want to be touched by them or not. They feel entitled to your body because of their needs, and when you try to stand up for yourself, sometimes even people close to you think you’re overreacting.
I was 16 year old and at my first job at a fast food restaurant. The guy was my manager, older and a bit creepy. It started off with inappropriate sexual comments/jokes, brushing past me too close, grazing over areas of my body “by accident.” Then he got my phone number from the employee files and started texting me lots of inappropriate things (what were my fantasies, my sexual experiences, things he wanted to do to me, etc) and at work he started following me when I went on my own somewhere (like to the storage closet) and there he would grab and touch me. The worst was when he managed to hold me down and get his hands down my pants and underwear and he whispered in my ear “What’s this I feel?”
It went on for months. I never said anything because I was so ashamed. I felt like maybe a part of me wanted it to be happening and if people found out they would assume I was dirty.
Then one of the newer girls complained to our head manager after he did something similar to her. She wasn’t believed, and even worse it got out to all the employees and everyone gossiped about how much of a lying, attention seeking sl#t she was. My fears deepened – if I told someone that is what they would say about me and I didn’t want that. That girl ended up quitting because it got so bad for her (the gossip plus obviously the manager still worked there and started treating her like shit).
I didn’t want that to happen with me and I didn’t want
to quit my job because I needed the money. So instead of complaining I did my best to not be on my own when he was around and I did my best to ignore his texts.
Eventually one of my coworkers and friends realized what was going on to some extent. He went to the manager and threatened to beat him up if he continued. Around the same time I realized he was doing the same thing to the younger sister of another one of my coworkers, so I told him as well and he also went to the manager and threatened him.
In both cases I downplayed what was happening, but it was enough to cause concern (especially for the brother). And it turns out the manager was totally spineless, like all these creeps are, and once he was met with some retaliation he backed off. When I realized this I was also able to be more vocal and to get him to stop harassing me at work. He of course treated me awfully but at least he wasn’t molesting me anymore. A year or so later he quit and I have thankfully never seen him again.
Today I’m doing okay. I downplayed what happened for years and no one knows the extent of what happened except for my boyfriend. It turns out that if you don’t deal with the trauma – even if it happened many years ago, it’s still there and still negatively effects your life (as my therapist explained to me). I’m still wary of men, I never really dated and it took about a year of being with my boyfriend before I felt safe enough to actually have sex.
I still have trouble coming to terms with how much of an impact it had on my life – some might say it was no big deal and people go through way worse. But obviously it was a big deal for me.
This was the 1st time it happened to me – at a College party.
I’m not sure who stopped me, but I missed getting in my ride’s car. The last ditch effort in getting home was too drunk, and he passed out on the couch and said we’d go home in the morning. A different friend said I could sleep in his room and I’d be ok (I was the only girl left I think). I fell asleep, and remember feeling being kissed, passing it off as dreaming and just continueing sleeping.
I woke up to this guy thrusting into me and I started to cry. I don’t know if he finished, or what happened. I remember crying, and waking up. I think my brain has erased most of that night for good.
This is tough because I’ve only ever told this to one other person, besides those involved, and was told “Dude, guys can’t get raped. You just say you hooked up while you were drunk.”
It was my birthday. I organized an outing with my friends (men and women) and met everyone at my place before venturing down the road to some bars. One of my friends brought this lady along who seemed alright at first but was extremely aggressive – like the type of person who enjoyed picking fights and getting loud for no reason.
The night carries on as any bar outing would go and I’m enjoying myself quite well at this point but this Aggressive Lady (as I’ll refer to her) kept trying to get me to take shots with her. I was drunk at this point and since she kept buying, I kept agreeing. It was my birthday after all.
I don’t remember much after that, but when I came to senses she was on top of me in my room and in that brief moment I knew I didn’t want whatever was going on, but more importantly I realized I didn’t have a condom on (which is a HUGE no no for me, I always wear one. Terrified of having an accidental kid). I passed out a moment later.
I woke up to hard knocks on my apartment door. I was hungover, like really hungover. I answer the door in my haziness and it’s my friend and that Aggressive Lady. Immediately they burst into my apartment and start to
explain the night prior. The first thing she says is, “I did not rape you.”
Confused, I went back to lay down and the two of them followed me into my room. My friend (another lady) was trying to be super calm with me, but Aggressive Lady kept yelling and telling me that my roommates lied to me and that nothing happened.
Eventually, I ask my friend to take the Aggressive Lady and leave, because I was starting to remember a few things and was getting uncomfortable. Aggressive Lady wouldn’t leave and kept saying “I’ll make it up to you, let’s grab breakfast” but I was having none of it. Finally, I yelled for them to leave and they did.
My roommates came in to give me the lowdown on what happened and I was in shock. Apparently the Aggressive Lady walked me home, ahead of the rest of the group. Got my keys and told everyone that she would “Make sure I got to bed alright,” but apparently that meant taking advantage of a passed out birthday boy. My roommates came home and walked in on her, on top of a passed out me. This lady was big. Like, bigger than me big. It took both my roommates to get her off since she was fighting them at the same time (probably would’ve been an interesting sight to see).
To this day I get uncomfortable around bigger women. I have nothing against them, but knowing that someone could use their weight against me like that just makes me nauseated. Thankfully my roommates and those who were involved all understood the severity of the situation and followed my decision of ‘Completely cutting off any connection to this Aggressive Lady’.
It’s been a few years but I still get flashes of images that aren’t pretty. And if you’re wondering, yes I immediately got myself checked and thankfully I’m clean.
The night started fun. We were college freshmen, and very excited to have acquired fireball. There was me, my roommate and two friends, N and M. I didn’t know N very well, but M was one of my closest friends, if not my best friend. We eventually found ourselves in possession of a handle and a lot of beer, and as freshmen we went well over our limits.
When we got back to our dorm, N went to bed, my roommate immediately fell asleep, and M and I both went to my bed. We’d previously slept in the same bed so this wasn’t exactly shocking, but our interest in each other had always been rather innocent.
It started with light stuff; I didn’t and still don’t like kissing, so there wasn’t really much I could do. But then I was underneath him.
I very clearly remember his silhouette above me. I could not see his face, the room was dark, the only light came from a window behind him. He was doing something, but at the time, I had no idea what. I was more than a little out of it. I now realize that it was him taking his belt off.
He poked around a bit, fingering me I think. I could barely feel anything. Didn’t really care. But then the feeling changed, and after nearly a minute I realized that he wasn’t fingering me, he was inside me.
I remember saying “no no no no no” over and over. I was so quiet, but there was no sound besides me in the room. If he heard me, he didn’t acknowledge. I said “I’m scared” a few times too. He didn’t respond to that either. I tried to push on his shoulders, but my arms felt so heavy and I felt so weak. He didn’t notice, or he ignored me.
It hit me after a few minutes that
this meant I was no longer a virgin.
When I realized he wasn’t wearing a condom, I changed from “no” and “scared” to “don’t get me pregnant.” He responded to that, said he wouldn’t, but didn’t stop.
He was drunk, just like me, and I think he got tired, because he rolled off me before he was finished. I had to climb over him to get out of my bed. I played flow on my phone for two hours, trying to focus on something, trying to understand what had just happened. That was my best friend asleep in my bed.
The day after he came by and told me he was “sorry for scaring me.” So I guess he could hear me all that while, at least.
I slept on the floor for at least a week after that. I could see his silhouette above me when I closed my eyes, and sometimes even when my eyes were open. I couldn’t sleep on my back for months. The two year mark passed earlier this month, but still sometimes if I lie on my back all I can see is that silhouette.
I have a hard time defining what happened. I absolutely did not consent. I froze, I was drunk and couldn’t move well enough to push him off or get him to stop kissing me, but I tried. I said NO. But he didn’t hear me.
Maybe he was too drunk to understand what I was saying. But that’s not a valid excuse. Honestly, there can’t be any excuse.
I am a trans-man, and am 24 years old now. When I was very young (13 years old) I had a 16 year old boyfriend. I hung out with him and his friends a lot because I had no friends my own age.
Anyway, any time we’d end up alone he would get really hard, grab my hand and rub it against his crotch. It made me feel awful and disgusting. I didn’t understand what was happening. This behaviour escalated into full blown rape, multiple times. No one had any idea. I didn’t tell my parents until I was 18.
This makes me feel really guilty for transitioning into a man because there are people who have tried to insinuate that I am only trans because I am a survivor of rape.
I was referred to a urologist for Peyronie’s disease (I believe my penis has been developing a bend in it). As part of his assessment, the urologist gave me an injection (in the penis) and some pornography. He left me alone in the room so I could become erect. Then he returned and used a vibrator to make me “fully firm.” I told him I was going to have an orgasm, but he just kept going and I ejaculated. He then took some “measurements” with plastic rulers.
He said that he needed to do this to take reference measurements to see if my condition is worsening. I have no idea what measurements he took because I was frankly freaking out by the experience.
For him to look at my erection didn’t seem completely implausible. After all, I couldn’t see a problem unless I was erect. Getting me “fully firm,” well that was stretching my credibility. And when he kept going until I ejaculated, that just didn’t make sense.
I asked about this on an online urology forum and found that this is so far outside of ethical practice!
Worst thing was nobody took me seriously, they assumed that I was trying to share some homosexual fantasy I had created. Nobody believed that a urologist would act in this way. I’m not gay, and if I was trying to create a fantasy I think I could do much better than this.
I am a dude, when I was in high school my manager at work (who was an older gay dude) flirted with me and later did some touching too.
I played it cool and tried not to encourage him, but he was borderline aggressive sometimes. I was really uncomfortable and scared of the guy.
We need to stand for these victims the next time we see anything like this happening around us. Imagine someone close to you in a situation like this, won’t it be amazing to know some stranger stood for them when you weren’t there?
There’s no “It’s not my problem,” that’s how this change begins.
Some of us keep pretending like everything is fine when it’s really not.
Share these stories, it’s time we talk about them!!!