Sexual abuse is not right no matter the age, or gender. Unfortunately, a lot of male victims of abuse do not report it. We feel it is important to continue to talk about this in order to shed light on such a stigmatized topic. More importantly, if you feel you are being sexually abused or know someone who is, we hope this article lets you know you are not alone, and inspires you to reach out for help. However, this may be disturbing to some of our readers.
1. She’ll Get Bored And Leave
I took a film class during my undergrad. It was a once a week class where we watched a feature length movie in a dark auditorium and discussed it and the assignments associated with it afterwards.
There was this girl who occasionally sat next to me and made awkward conversation before the movie started.
Then, during one class, she puts her hand on my thigh. Since I’m not interested in her, I just pushed it away politely and said “please don’t do that” – so she does it again, this time wrapping her hand around my thigh. I don’t want to disturb the other students, so I whisper to her to stop – she just smiles at me. I figure, whatever, it’ll be easier if I just let this happen. So, I let her leave her hand on my leg.
A few minutes later, she’s moved her hands to my crotch and she’s massaging my penis. I’m not enjoying it and I’m becoming deeply upset. I can’t focus on the movie, but I need to watch it to get through the class.
After that, I tried to avoid her but she would follow me around campus. It happened a few more times in class after that, but then I think she got bored because I wasn’t playing along.
I never told anyone, because people might have thought it wasn’t a big deal.
2. Not how family is supposed to act.
When I was 8 or 9, I was regularly raped by my older female cousin. This went on for a year. I usually just took it for a while, lied about the bruises to my parents, and pretended nothing happened. She’d steal her parents porn, make me watch it with her, and recreate it, and it was mostly a female dominating a male in the video. Sometimes she’d show me off to her friends like a toy or something. Everything after all that felt numb, like I’d been through the worst and robbed of my best. I’ve told my SO and she’s helped me heal from it, but it still keeps me up at night sometimes.
3. A Friend In Need
I lived in a house with some guys in college, and I had a bad habit of falling asleep in the common area on the couch when I was drunk instead of going to my bed. After going out with my roommates one night, a few people came back to our house to continue drinking. I blacked out and my friends helped me onto the couch, so they could keep an eye on me and put a trash can next to me. There was a girl there that was friends with some of the girls we hung out with all night. She was very flirtatious with the guys there, but none of us were attracted to her. I passed out and after everyone went to their beds I was still alone on the couch.
My friend passed through the common area at about 4 am to get some water from the kitchen. He said he walked in and saw this girl on top of my unconscious body. It took him a few days to build up the courage to tell me, but I’m glad he did. It was kind of a joke at first, but later on I started to realize that I actually had been raped. It’s messed up that it gets down played for men so much.
4. She Was My First
I dated a girl for three years. My first girlfriend. I was the first one amongst my friends to be in a relationship which I think kept me in it for so long. I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back she was manipulative, emotionally violent and at rare occasions physically violent. I had zero experience or things to compare it to. It took me about a year after she dumped me to have the thought “Thaaaat… was probably not good.” Took me 15 years to finally realize a lot of the times we had sex quite clearly constituted rape. No blurred lines. Just straight up rape. Me telling her to stop and she continuing with threats or by me being tied up.
I’ve come to realize it wasn’t even about the sex. It was about control. She didn’t seem interested at all, sometimes watching TV and just keeping at it. I’d tell her to stop, sometimes just breaking down and crying. She’d do stuff like tell me mid “sex” she was of the pill and keep on going. Now I’m quite certain she wasn’t though.
Anyhow, took me 12 years to realize men could be raped at all and 15 to begin thinking about my experiences. Unlocked a lot of explanations for my behaviour later in life. Sometimes I feel I should have just kept it buried in the back of my head and sometimes it feels healthy to be able to talk about it.
5. Same Old Routine
I crashed at her mom’s house after a small party there, nothing crazy. I stripped to my boxers, as I have done many times before, and went to sleep. I remember feeling a tingling, almost like peeing when you have one of those dreams of yourself peeing, and you wake up because the sensation wakes you up? Not sure how else to describe it. I woke up just in time to cut myself off from climaxing. I pushed her up and I scooted back.
She said that I shouldn’t be so upset about it. I said, “You didn’t wake me up?” She said “I know you wanted it.”
I got up and started gathering my stuff, and was pretty upset. I was tired, and now on edge.
I’m not untrusting of women, and the worst part is I don’t feel like a victim.
6. Bad Girlfriend
My college roommate’s girlfriend raped me. This happened around sophomore year of college. One of my roommates had been dating this girl off an in for about 8 months or so. My roommate was not the best boyfriend. They fought a lot in our apartment. Several times, I was forced to physically get between them to prevent an altercation and/or our stuff getting broken. These fights happened at least once a week, and almost every time they drank.
One Friday, she tells me that she wants to set me up with one of her sorority sisters. So, we 4 all go out to the club. The night was going surprisingly well. The friend and I didn’t really connect in a romantic level, but we were all having a good time none the less. At one of the clubs, it’s my turn to buy a round, I’m standing at the bar, trying to tune out the loud music, when I feel an arm reach around from behind me and grab my crotch. Natural reaction, I turn to see who it was and see my roommates girlfriend standing behind me grinning… I carefully removed her hand, and tried to mentally brush it off as the alcohol getting to her.
Fast forward another two hours and we are in the cab going back to our apartment. Roommate and girlfriend are loudly fighting about something, while the friend and I are sitting in uncomfortable silence. It is at this point, things get really blurry, it was as if all of the nights alcohol hit me all at once. I remember us getting back to our apartment parking lot and my roommate and his girlfriend are shouting at each other. I throw the driver a bill and stumble back to our apartment with girlfriends friend in tow, leaving them to fight outside. I don’t know where the friend crashed, I just walked straight in and straight to my bed. I don’t think that I even took my clothes off.
Don’t know how much time passed, but get the feeling of something wet around my crotch area and on my stomach. My initial thought, before opening my eyes, was that I peed myself. Upon opening my eyes, I see my roommates girlfriend on top of me. I sobered up in that one second and quickly shoved her off of me. I just remember saying “What are you doing?!” and her saying VERY loudly, “Well someone else won’t have sex with me!” as if she wanted my roommate to hear. I told her to get out, and she did whilst calling me a jerk. I lay there for a minute trying to analyze what just happened, when I start to feel sick. Not sure if it was the alcohol or the incident that just occurred, but I ran to the bathroom to puke. I returned to my bed and fell back asleep.
I never brought it up with my roommate or his girlfriend. I don’t know if she ever told him. He told me the next day that he was so blasted that he didn’t remember anything after we left the club. The sorority sister was no where to be found the next morning. My roommate and his girlfriend broke up for good not long after that.
It hasn’t affected me in anyway mentally, but it’s something that I do think about almost everyday, and I do feel a tinge of shame. I still see her around town every now and then. We speak, but I have never brought up the incident. I’m not even 100% sure if she remembers doing it. I have never told this story to anyone, but I hope it helps someone.
7. “Cheer Me Up”
I’d just separated from my ex-wife and some friends took me out drinking to “cheer me up.” I got drunk, and they managed to get me home and on my bed, where I passed out.
Have you ever been woken up by something that initially seems pleasant, but you suddenly realize that it’s kind of horrible? How for a few seconds, you just enjoy it and soak it in, and then reality comes crashing in and you snap awake? Well, I woke up about three seconds from climaxing, which is usually a great way to wake up, but the reality came in when I specifically remembered not bringing anyone home from the bar and that I had no idea who or what was on top of me.
Turns out it was my soon to be ex-wife. Her story was that she saw me out drinking but didn’t say anything, and then decided to come over after she figured my friends had time to drop me off and leave. Apparently, they didn’t lock up behind them and she just sauntered in, pulled down my shorts, and jumped on top of me.
I pulled up my shorts and told her to get out, and she just laughed at me. I threatened to call the cops, and she finally left. About 7 months after that, she had me served with child support papers. My attorney demanded a blood test, and we never heard back from her lawyer.
I told a total of three people about what happened. One was a formerly close friend, who was like “dude, that sounds awesome!” A female friend said, “Seriously? That’s like saying a chihuahua raped a great dane. It just doesn’t work like that.” Presumably because my ex was 5’1″ and under 100 lbs, while I was 6’2″ 270. And the therapist I saw briefly told me in no uncertain terms that “a woman can’t rape a man. It’s physically impossible.”
So I don’t talk about it. It isn’t a thing that society is prepared to accept, and I come across like I’m either making it up or trying to play the victim. It sucks sometimes, and I’ve made up a half a dozen different stories for a half a dozen different women about why I don’t like being touched when I’m sleeping. Not having anyone to talk it through with was hard, but I got used to it.
8. No One Should Have To Go Through It
In university, I was out partying and had quite a few drinks. This girl, Lori, went back with me to my dorm, we had been seeing each other on and off. We both crashed and fell asleep.
Enter some time later and I wake up, still pretty drunk, and Lori is on top of me. I go to throw her off, and she’s pinned me down (that half-awake moment and being still inebriated makes it hard to do anything, despite me being 6’3″, 220lbs). She laughs and said “I didn’t think you’d mind”. Of course I mind.
Later that week, I went down to University services to talk to someone because it wasn’t right. I didn’t feel good about it, was worried about diseases and stuff like that. I was told because I was a man, I couldn’t be raped. Tried to work with police. Was told the same thing.
It’s been a good 15 years since, and I’ve moved past. I strongly advocate and fight against things like the Duluth Model (domestic violence that assumes the man is at fault) and for more men’s support in domestic violence and rape cases. No one should have to go through it. There’s no reason anyone should.
9. I Didn’t Enjoy It
I was 14 and drunk at a party hosted by my best friend D’s older brother, who had returned from camp. Me and a friend had been drinking box wine all night, when I decided to head to bed. I was having a hard time moving so D helped me into his room. I had had a disagreement with a girl earlier that evening about music and I guess she was “excited” over our argument. She came in shortly after me. I remember her flipping me over and pulling my pants down. I also remember her on top of me and feeling used, worthless and weak for not enjoying it more.
I explained to D’s older brother Nate what had happened the night before. It had never been a thought that I had been raped. I was more freaked out that I didn’t enjoy it. Nate was furious. He explained to me I was raped. We talked for a few hours about it. Nate comforted me the best he could and it didn’t bother me until I had sex again two years later. I’ll spare you the details, but when I started to become more sexually active I kept having flashbacks. It wasn’t going to work. I thought that because the first time I had sex I was raped I was never going to have a normal sex life. I became depressed and drank heavy for the next few years.
Things changed when I met my wife. I was finally able to talk about it in a way that wasn’t rooted in anger or sadness. For some reason that helped. My wife is an amazing partner and I’m glad to report that we have a healthy sex life.
10. Saved By My Friend
11. Who Are They Going To Believe?
I broke up with an ex like 6 months before. She basically would tell me she was pregnant when ever I seemed like I wanted to break up with her. I did try to keep nice to her, but went months without talking with her.
I met up and talked to her one day and we both agreed to keep things civil between each other. She told me how good I was too her and so on and talked to me about a new guy she was dating.
A couple of weeks later I get a message that she thought someone was creeping around her house and that she was scared and all alone. She asked me to come over. I agreed.
When I got in her house we talked for a bit and then she started kissing me. I got up to leave and she basically jumped up and wrapped her legs around me and kept kissing me. I probably said stop well over 10 times. I could easily hit her and got her off of me, but I thought to myself: “Who are the cops going to believe? 6’2″ me, or 5’2″ her with a black eye?”. So, I laid down, and she got on top of me. When we were finished up and immediately grabbed a garbage can to start puking.
As I sat there with tears in my eye, I said, “I’m telling your new boyfriend.” She hit me said no, and told me she slept with my best friend a couple hours after we broke up. I left that night feeling shattered. I felt so bad and felt like it was all my fault. I felt guilty that she had a boyfriend and I wished that karma would pay me back. (I oddly enough feel like that cursed me) I messaged her on Facebook after saying: “I won’t tell your new boyfriend, but please stay away from me. I never want to talk to you again.”
I still haven’t had sex with someone else and it’s been 3 years. My life has kind of fallen apart, but I’m trying desperately to get it back. She’s the only person that if I see in public I feel physically sick and scared. I tried talking to people about it, but I think I talk about it with no emotion about it, so they don’t think it’s a big deal.
12. Slowly Healing
When I was 12 or 11 I was placed in a foster home and I was repeatedly raped by my foster parents. I don’t remember much. They were arrested and I was moved to a new home.
I got issues, a lot of issues. But I work with them with my therapist. I am 28 years old and been married to my wonderful husband of almost four years.
I sometimes cry during sex. I can’t stand loud noises. I use to have weekly breakdowns but now they monthly breakdowns. I don’t drink. I don’t sleep in the dark. I am emotional. I cry a lot. My husband understands. My husband works with me because he loves me.
It is slow, but I am healing. My therapist and husband both have told me I cry enough to fill the ocean twice over.
I was dating this girl for 2.5 years, we lived together for about six months. She always had anger and self esteem issues, and I tried to be supportive and there for her, but once we moved in, things got bad. I became her punching bag for her anger, and anything could trigger an outrage. Once the gears started turning, maybe a professor said something in the wrong tone, maybe her dad made a comment about her spending (she did not spend a lot), whatever it was, it would start a reaction. Within a few days, you can be sure I was on the floor being kicked, or taking punches.
I stayed because I had a lot of issues with myself and my self esteem and confidence were nothing, I really feared being alone and didn’t think I could ever do better than this, and when things were good, they were really good. She was a lot of fun when she was in a good mood.
I gave her an ultimatum after she punched me in the face while I was speeding down the high way, and told her if she hits me again, we’re through for good. The next few months were literally walking on egg shells around her and being a zombie to the world. I was just going through the motions.
I just wanted to make it through the lease so I could go my own way. She was still verbally abusive, she stopped hitting me, but she took her anger out by destroying things or hurting herself.
Then we had a good day, it was a really good day. The first in months. It was a long day full of activities, so by eleven, I was passing out on the couch. I’d been up since 5am and running on less than four hours of sleep. I said I wanted to go to bed, and got up to lay down.
She came in and tried to have sex with me, I told her I was too tired, but she didn’t care. I told her I wasn’t awake enough and just wanted to go to bed, that didn’t go well. She still tried. She straddled me and my body reacted to it, though I didn’t want it to, and she started to go at it while I just lied there. Then she realized I wasn’t into it. I think it clicked in her head what she was doing.
She jumped off me and in the coldest, deadest voice: “If you go to sleep, I will murder you in your sleep. I will stab you. I have the knives, you know I do. If you go to sleep, I will murder you.” And she walked out.
I sat there just stunned. I didn’t know what to do, I just lied there staring at the wall. I was just defeated completely. She came back in some time later, and yelled at me because I didn’t chase after her. She was upset and needed comfort and I didn’t come. So I went and laid on the couch with her watching Netflix, until she was ready to go to bed at three.
Then I laid in bed staring at the ceiling until she woke up the next morning. I might have slept, I don’t know. It was 11:14, I remember, and I turned to her and said it was over.
Then she stalked me, obsessed over me, and threatened to kill herself if I didn’t sleep with her again, and I was weak and afraid she would, so I did it again and again with her for a year. I hated myself, I hated my life, and I couldn’t find a way out of it.
I eventually moved away, and cut her out completely. It was 4 years before I could let anyone even cuddle me. That life doesn’t even feel like my own anymore, but that night is burned into my brain, and those scars still cause me problems. I’m afraid to get close to people. I’ve now had two relationships since, but I ended them when I started to feel “trapped” or around the time it went from relationship to serious relationship.
Despite all of that, I am happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life and love myself now. Something I never did before. I also no longer feel like I need a relationship to be happy.
14. Two Sad People Helping Each Other Out…
I was 16 and had just gotten out of a 2 year relationship with my first girlfriend. I was struggling with a combination of newfound loneliness and overwhelming depression that had persisted for the last 8 years. I felt like I had done nothing with my life and, before killing myself, I wanted to reach out and help as many people as I could who felt the way I did. I started messaging people anytime I saw someone post a status that seemed to be a bit of a red flag for depression. I talked to a few dozen people and gave some words of encouragement and such, but it didn’t really feel like enough.
I realized I couldn’t find purpose in that, so I decided to try to reach out to everyone I had wronged over the years to apologize before finally leaving. One of those people was my best friend’s ex. I had a bad feeling about her when they first started dating and was an incessantly rude to her for their entire relationship. I apologized and she said it was no big deal and asked how I had been doing since my ex and I had broken up. We started talking about life and depression before ending the conversation. When my friends heard about this, they thought I was trying to hook up with her and were upset. At the same time, my ex started dating the vocalist of the band all of my friends were in. So, here I am, a depressed kid who now has no friends but was horrified of dying alone.
One night, I had had enough of waiting. As I was getting ready to end it, I get a message from my friend’s ex saying she needed someone to talk to, but that she couldn’t type any of it out. She wanted to hang out the next day. Fueled by a need for purpose before dying, I stopped myself from downing the rest of the blood pressure pills I had laid out.
Over the course of the next two weeks, this girl and I hung out several times. It started as being two sad people supporting each other, but she gradually raised the stakes and asked for more. When I would resist, she would get upset and say that she didn’t want to talk to me. Me, being terrified of being so alone, relented until the day when it finally reached a peak. I don’t want to go into details about the actual event, but it ended with me laying on the couch, covering myself with the clothes that I didn’t have the will to actually put on, and telling her that she had to leave before my parents got home. I kept telling myself that it was a mistake, that I hadn’t asserted my views and feelings strongly enough, that she thought I felt the same way and wanted a romantic relationship. I continued responding to her messages, but now with one word answers, for another week before I actually told her how I felt about what happened. She told me to kill myself.
So I tried to.
My mom walked in my room as I was pouring all of my meds on the floor and sobbing. The ex I had broken up with in the first place had called her after school saying that I looked distraught on my way home and that she should check on me. My mom took everything I had that I could use to end my life, locked up all of our guns, knives, razor blades, etc. She made me come into her room and ask for my medication each night.
Not long after, my ex broke up with the vocalist of my friends’ band and said she wanted to get back together. I spent the next year and a half with whatever it was that happened with my friend’s ex being held over my head as a way to guilt me into having sex with her. This abuse by my girlfriend at the time proved to be far more traumatizing than what she was actually holding against me.
I wish I had a happy ending to the story, but I don’t really. I broke up with that girlfriend, had a great relationship that I allowed my insecurities ruin, spent a year learning to be more comfortable alone than around people, and habitually fell out of everything in my life and neglected any friends I still had.
Over this last winter break, I met an amazing girl who has been very understanding of my experiences.
15. I Just Want To Be Loved
I had just moved cities. As a young teen, this was kinda heartbreaking given the circumstances. It took a week before I was being bullied at my new school. A month after moving and I was seeing doctors about being diagnosed with depression. When the a girl in the school sent someone over, to ask me for my number, thoughts went racing. Does she want to harass me? Just another bully? Or maybe she wants to be friends? She’d certainly help me with the bullying.
After some deliberation, I decided the offer didn’t sound like a plan for bullying, and gave her my number. We texted for a few weeks, and became partners quite quickly. Looking back, even if the event yet to come hadn’t happened, I shouldn’t have rushed in so blindly and quickly. I started realizing I got with her because I was depressed and wanted love to fill that hole, and that I didn’t love her, I loved being loved. While she was happy with that, I wasn’t.
She invited me to hers for the first time ever. We mostly met on the beach front. We had spoken beforehand about being in her house alone, and had agreed that because I didn’t feel ready, plus I was ill (and barely wanted to be with her, but didn’t mention that bit), that we weren’t going to do anything more than what we’d already done. No sex.
When I got there, we go up to her room. We fool around, take clothes off, mess around naked. Then she takes a condom out of a drawer. I shake my head, and tell her no. She doesn’t listen. She sits on my chest (she was bigger than me.) She put the condom on, which was surprisingly considerate given the circumstances, and awkwardly managed to keep me pinned while she raped me. After about 3 minutes of physical, mental and emotional torture, I climaxed.
She got off and said “See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” I just silently put on my clothes and left. An hours walk to home, no money for a bus, crying my eyes out. I dried my eyes before entering my house, and only the internet and the odd partner have heard the story since.
I think it was 2 days after, of pure arguing, and not even about the incident, just about being together, I left broke up with her. So she bullied me for the next 2 and 1/2 years. Telling everyone we had sex, sending my nude photos around school (police got involved there), lots of nasty comments. She got others to bully me too. Ensue 2 years of high school hell. After a while she gave up, but nobody else did.
Now I’m in college, suffering even worse with depression, after giving up with counselling multiple times, and buckling under my college workload.
I’d like to say it gets better, but my life hasn’t. Trauma from being sexually abused never goes away, it’s a part of you, and you just have to learn to deal with it.
16. Exchange Student
When I was 17, I was finishing up my year as an exchange student in Germany. I had been going to a number of farewell parties, some for myself, some for other exchange students from other countries. I had also been losing a lot of weight that year, and that particular week, I had been drinking more than eating.
Well… this particular night I was at a farewell party for this one particular Brazilian exchange student, who was leaving about the same time I was. I am not sure if I was hungover, or if the week of partying caught up with me, but I quickly found myself hammered like I’ve never been before.
One of the other Brazilian exchange students, one who came a few months later, and was leaving a few months later, apparently took advantage of me, and was making out with me. I only remember bits and pieces. I don’t know if she was drunk/as drunk as I was. I just remember her forcibly sticking her tongue down my throat and being handsy, and me feeling mostly powerless to resist.
Occasionally I would burst up from my chair to puke in the bushes, but as soon as I sat down, she was on me again. I remember trying to compromise by just “hugging” for awhile, but it was no use. Finally the host family of the exchange student that the party was for, called a cab for me, and I went ‘home’.
I was ashamed of what happened. Also a little mad. I had a girlfriend back home, though we were on a break, I guess, while I was abroad. I had never really had quite an experience like that before, even with my girlfriend, so in part I felt a little robbed. I never knew how to broach the subject to her, so I never did. Even after we got engaged, and then got married. I am not sure if it was even worth mentioning. I still don’t know how much of the blame is on me, but the whole thing really messed me up.
17. The Worst Moment Of My Life
I’m not going to relive the worst moment of my life, but I will tell you about the long-term consequences. I still struggle with the resulting feelings of being less of a man, so I act far more aggressive than needed if I feel that my masculinity is threatened. Also, it’s basically impossible for me to trust women I don’t know. I’m not sexist, but I have to know a girl for a long while before trusting her enough to hang out. My girlfriend accepts these flaws and loves me in spite of them, but most other people think I’m a jerk. I haven’t even mentioned the flashbacks, nightmares, and suicide attempt that landed me in the hospital for a week. Also, when it happened I was barely 18. If only I had just defended myself, but then she would have called the police and had me arrested… There’s really know winning in life, is there?
18. Can’t Show Vulnerability
My fiance was raped. He was going through a really bad time and was drinking a lot, ended up passing out while drinking with a group of ‘friends’. He woke up and this girl was having sex with him, no protection. He pushed her off and told her to get out, but ended up dating her for a couple of weeks because he couldn’t really reconcile the vulnerability and thought that if he chose to have (protected) sex with her it would make it ok. It didn’t.
Small town life meant that I had to serve her and her family in my retail job. She knew who I was, I knew who she was, and if I hadn’t needed my job I would have gotten revenge on behalf of him.
19. Sounds Like Rape
I went and tested myself for HIV and Chlamydia today and the nurse asked me if I usually use condoms and I said that I usually do, but not the last time because I woke up having sex. Then she told me that it sounded like a sexual assault.
Me and my friends were drinking and on our way home and my friend invites a girl to join us. We get home and I go to bed and both my friend and the girl joins me in the bed. I just wanted to sleep. After awhile she starts to touch me everywhere and I say no and move so my stomach is against the wall and I can fall asleep. After maybe one hour, I woke up just seconds before climax and didn’t realize what had happened. I cursed to myself and went to the toilet and then anxiety and disgust creeped on me. I couldn’t think so I grabbed my clothes and walked home. Since then I’ve felt ashamed, disgusted and my anxiety has gotten worse. I’ve felt so much self hatred, but not thinking about why I felt like this. I Haven’t thought about it as rape before the nurse told me.
20. Talk To Someone
I met her through a dating website and after a couple weeks of texting we decided to go out on a date. The date was fun, but something about her seemed off. By the end of the date I told her I think we should just stay friends. She agreed and all was good.
Fast forward a week and she invites me to this party. I think nothing of it, as we had been chatting. I thought we were all good. I got to the party, she handed me a beer and that’s the last thing I remember until I woke up naked in the same bed as her.
It really messed me up for a long time, until a professor urged me to talk to one of my university’s counsellors.
21. “My Dirty Little Secret”
A good friend of mine’s wife used to hit on me a lot. We were all old friends from school and I never really told her off, just kind of laughed it off since she’d do it in front of my wife and her husband. We had a party at their house one night, I passed out watching a film. Woke up sometime later (movie was still on, so not too much later) to her hand down my pants.
I asked what she was doing, and she just looked at me. I rolled away, zipped up, and went to the bathroom. When I went back out to the living room, she had retired to her bedroom and I laid on the couch until our friends returned from a liquor run. I stuck close to my buddy who I’d gone out there with, we both slept in the living room that night.
I told him what had happened on the way home. Not sure he believed me. I tearfully told my wife about it once I got home, not sure she believed me either.
She sent me a message on Facebook that morning: “I’ll keep you my dirty little secret”.
Fast forward a few months, her husband knows. Her sister knows. Everybody in our circle knows, because she told them. Of course she painted a different picture and it’s now my word against hers (“and she’s a mother, you guys, why would she lie”). Her sister punched me in the face when I said it didn’t go down that way and that I’m pretty sure that she was sexually assaulting me.
I don’t hang out with those people anymore. I’m not married to that wife anymore. I never see my friend (whose wife was responsible) anymore. I lost kind of a lot over that because “girls can’t rape boys”.
22. Not A Good “Relationship”
I was in a dark place after ending a long term relationship and was particularly lonely and vulnerable. Along comes this girl that I meet by chance. We talked in the phone/online and decided to meet in person. She was very, very sexually aggressive, putting her hands on me hours after meeting. She wore me down and we fooled around, but didn’t have sex, I resisted. I wanted to stay friends but not really have a relationship.
Fast forward a couple weeks and she’s still aggressive wears me down again and starts to fool around, but this time she doesn’t take no for an answer. She’s actually bigger than me. I just took it because I didn’t know what to do. It was not good and I just felt ashamed after. Without getting into too much detail she gets some blackmail material. And this “relationship ” continues for a few more months and she refuses to let me get out of it without severe penalty.
Good news though. I finally did get out and was prepared for the worst. It never came and now I just pretend it never happened because men can’t get raped. I believed that myself until hearing others stories.
23. She Was My Sister
I was between 6-8 years old. She was 6 years older, and my sister. It was summer break, and she was in charge of babysitting me. We got along as much as a brother and sister 6 years apart in age could. It happened a dozen times or so. It was a sort of game she wanted me to play with her. I didn’t really realize what was happening at the time. I knew it was wrong and I shouldn’t tell my dad.
I had problems growing up that I later pieced together were scars from this. I had trouble controlling myself when it came to using the bathroom sometimes, in like 3rd and 4th grade. I would not want to be touched by anyone. I’ve never been a hugger because of it. There’s other things sometimes too, but as my parents divorced when I was little I’m not sure where to place the blame on my poor relationship skills.
I’ve only ever told one therapist about this, and that was only a year ago or so. My wife knows, but that’s about it. I’ve never brought it up with my sister, but we’re not very close at all so I never have to deal with her.
I sometimes wonder if my uncle raped/molested her when she was younger or even right around that same time. He’s a real scum bag and it would make sense if that’s where she learned it from.
Still, she should have known better. She was old enough to know better than to do that to her brother.
I do still think about it occasionally, but in a very detached sort of way. I suppose it could have been worse, but it still messed me up.
24. The Circle Of Abuse
I was molested by an older neighbor girl from 5-10 years old until we moved away. I found out later that she was a victim of molestation and was really dealing with some issues of her own, so I have a hard time blaming her, even though it led to some pretty dark places in my youth. I’ve still never said a word to anyone about it, it’s probably the only thing my wife of 20 years doesn’t know about me, but I’ve never been able to say anything. I’m OK now but I was suicidal as a teen and even tried it once.
I ran into her a few years ago, she works at a local business. Neither of us said anything, but it was very obvious she knew exactly who I was. Part of me wants to talk to her and let her know I know she was a victim too, but I just can’t do it yet. Her father was the culprit in her case. I’ve thought about finding a counsellor but it’s something I really don’t want any records of occurring no matter how “confidential” they’re supposed to be. The resulting problems arc out further than I’m willing to say but it could ruin some lives. I hate it every day.
25. “I’m Doing You A Favor”
There were a group of us, and we played ‘I Have Never’ and, against my wishes, my virginity was exposed to the group.
One of the girls in the group has always pitied me strongly. I have dwarfism, and she straight up treats me like a charity case most of the time. Rarely speaking to me without a soft smile and a simpering tone of voice, like you would to a toddler (despite me being 2 years older than her). When it was revealed that I was still a virgin, she made an exaggerated sad face and said “aww.” I knew she was loving it, and I did my best to contain my anger at her reaction. For the rest of the night she would keep glancing over to me and making that same sad face. I’m not a violent person at all, but I genuinely wanted to punch her in those moments.
Fast forward to us falling asleep. As luck would have it, I ended up having to share a sofa with her. I could feel her pressed up against me, and I felt sick. Due to me being squished right up to the back of the sofa, I could hardly move, with my arms pinned to my sides. Knowing her complete lack of respect for other’s personal space, I even thought to myself masochistically “you know she’ll probably do something, don’t you?”
Next thing I know, I’m waking up in the middle of the night to a hand slipping into my sleeping bag. I was frozen in horror for a few moments, even thinking to myself “You should like this. Stay still, you might grow to like it.” But I didn’t. I really didn’t. I wanted to be sick. I wanted to retaliate – to hurt her. I grabbed her hand and awkwardly tried to push it away with my limited range of movement. I’d never felt such intense distress and…something else I can’t really articulate. She didn’t retract, though. She stayed right up against me and whispered in a frustrated tone “I’m doing you a favour!” I didn’t say anything, I was too preoccupied trying to manage my breathing and panic.
That was by far the worst night I’ve ever had. I hated that I had to lay there for the rest of the night (not wanting to cause a scene with the rest of my friends all in the room). I lay there rigid, sweating and wide awake for 9 hours. My muscles ached for 2 days after. Ever since that happened, the very idea of physical intimacy gives me panic attacks. I still don’t know if I ever want to pursue sex or a relationship.