I was sexually abused by my uncle for seven years. I was also date-raped when I was 14, and again when I was 15. The silence is what keeps this from happening over and over again. I won’t be a victim anymore.
When I was 15 I was at a friend’s house with a group of girls and we had been drinking and then decided to invite some senoir guys over (we were sophomores). They came and as a joke my friend promised one of them that I would make out with one of them. They came and sold us some alcohol at a low price. I made out and did a little more with one of the boys. Then I decided I was done and went in a sleeping bag to show everyone I was done partying. Then the other guy “Jordan” came to me, unzipped the sleeping bag, climbed on top of me, and zipped it back up. I was trapped. I had not had that much to drink, and reflecting on the situation I believe the liquor the boys sold us had *something* in it. At the time I also felt it was my fault was “Jordan” was doing to me because I had messed around with his friend. I kept begging him to stop, he would merely laugh and continue. I was so afraid someone would notice what was going on so I stayed quiet. I kept falling asleep even though I was trying my hardest not to. Afterwards I blamed myself thinking I had brought it upon myself until I talked to a friend that had been there that night and she confided in me that “Jordan” had done something similar to her months earlier. I wish I had done something about it and I pray that he does not hurt any more girls. I feel sick thinking about him hurting someone else and I wish I had told someone sooner!
I was repeatedly raped from the time I was 3 until I was 14 by my baby-sitter. It took until I was 17 for him to be brought to justice. The abuse only ended when my family moved to a different state. When I first spoke up nobady believed me, that’s when I found Take Back the Night. They helped me through the past four years, and helped me find my voice. Now, by telling me story, I hope I can help to SHATTER the silence. Without your support I could have never been able to begin to heal. THANK YOU! and keep on helping others.
I was repeatedly molested and raped by my father ever since I could remember. The first time I ever remember him molesting me was when I was 5 years old and we were in the bath and he was cleaning me and he touched my vagina, and then asked me touch his penis. Through out my child hood he would always sneak french kisses and touch me under my shirt and underpants. He would even sneak in my room at night and wake me up to make me sexually interact with him. On my tenth birthday he raped me for the first time, and continued too until I was 12, one time he even made me stay home from school so he could molest and rape me all day long. He would never let me go outside to play with my friends or my brother always kicking him out of the house and keeping me inside so he could abuse me. When I was 12 years I finally told him to stop that he did not have the right to touch me, and then I went to the police. He has been in jail for the past 10 years and refuses to take responsibility for his actions, and refuses “treatment”, so they keep adding time onto his sentence. Now I tell people about my story, I know it’s not something meant to be kept a secret, and it was definitely not my fault. I’ve sung at the Manchester, NH Take Back the Night event and each year I tell my story and plead for victims to tell their story, get help, and stop being victims. It’s time we become survivors and make the world safe for other women, and men (this doesn’t just happen to women!!!) and our children. Take back YOUR night, SPEAK UP, SPEAK OUT, BE HEARD!!
I was 25 years old. The handyman in a motel confined, raped and strangled me. It was broad daylight. Let’s take back OUR RIGHT TO BE.
I used to be best friends with “Elizabeth” from the time I was 9 months old, until I was 11. She had an older brother who was about 13 then, and I was only 5 years old when it all started. When I went to her house, her parents were usually at work, so her brother would usually baby-sit us. One day, while “Elizabeth” was using the bathroom, “Andrew” told me to come into his room because he had to show me something. I always thought of him as a brother, so I didn’t think anythig of it. When I got in there, he shut and locked the door behind me, told me to take off my clothes, and then lie on the bed because we were going to play a game. I did as I was told and undressed and lied on the bed. He did the same. As he started to get on top of me, I knew something was wrong. I started kicking and screaming, but he wouldn’t get off, so I just lied there in shock. Finally he got off, told me to get dressed, and said “I’ll kill you if you ever tell anyone.” To this day, I still haven’t told anyone, except for my (now) best friend, not even my Mom.
I was 17 when I met him. I was still in high school and he was the cool, older college man. Everything was new and fun and when he told me that I should always wear my hair that way I thought that he liked it, not that he literally wanted me to always wear my hair like that. The abuse started slowly but crept in. I was stripped of everything that was me. I couldn’t eat onions because he had conviced me that I didn’t like them. I mean, how do you forget that you like a food? The abuse got more and more physical. He made everyhing my fault, like it was my fault for burning the supper that I got tossed against the wall. I was so panicked when he would hold me down on the bed with the covers on my face, I still feel like i’m suffocating if there are covers on my face. After being with him over a year, I finally broke free of his abuse. My wonderful sisters and parents came and never said “i told you so” The abuse didnt’ stop with me moving out. He did a lot of emotional damage. I had to find myself again. Make sure I was doing things because I enjoyed them, not becuase it was the way I was supposed to act when I was with him. It has been 5 years and I still have memories of some of the events that I had forgotten that come back to me. Then, I cry or break out in hives. I’m still surviving day after day. We are all survivors. Audre Lorde once said “Your silence will not protect you.” and she is correct. Now is the time to shatter the silence!
I feel like a sexual assault magnet! I was 8 when my step father first molested me, he always smelled of booze, he continued to molest me until I was 11. At 12, a park worker took me into his office and exposed himself to me. He wanted me to touch him but I ran out.When I was 13, I was jumped by 5 boys at a park. They were all on top of me at once grabbing me, sticking their tongues in my moth and their hands down my pants. At 15, my stepfather was back for a visit, he had his hands all over me and tried to rape me. When I was 20, I was raped, beaten and choked for 3 hours by a stranger. He was never caught. I am STILL scared at night! I am 40 now and have told less than a handful of people about my experiences. Thank you for letting me share.
When I was a little girl I thought violence was normal. It was not uncommon for my father to come home screaming, whip off the belt, smack us with his hands and fists, throw us against walls, forcefeed us, stuff our mouths with tabasco sauce, lock us in rooms and other such inhuman treatment…but this was life, this was normal. My entire neighborhood knew what was going on, the weird part is some people liked my father more than the rest of us. It took almost a decade of this treatment before my mother was able to leave. It was hard, we had to hide and leave everything. We dealt with him stalking us, restraining orders and the disappearance of our entire way of life. But my mother was strong, she fought and fought and fought. He did find us but my mother was always quick to inform police and gather evidence. My mom was unrelenting in court. She got us our house back and my father was forbidden from ever seeing us again. Me and my siblings all suffer from anxiety and PTSD as well as the emotional loss of a father and confusion as to why this happened to us. But all of us are in college now, my mother just finished law school and we are alive. WE ARE ALIVE! And if she had not been strong we might be dead, we would be alot worse off and we would not have the amazing chances we have now. I’ll never forgot the silence of my neighborhood, and when I pass by the “Garden of Rememberance” for domestic violence victims in my town I am angry and hurt at the way we were put out of site and out of mind. I think about how many other children whose moms could not get to where my mom finally got, and all i can hope and beg for is that if you know someone is being abused you inform the proper authorities because by being silent you only help their abuser.