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.