Survivor Stories

Niki's Story

I believe I was 9 or 10 at the time. I was liveing with my mom and two older brothers. My mom worked and was going to college at the same time, my oldest brother was gone alot also, he worked and was in high school. That left me home alot either alone or with my youngest brother who was a few years older than me. We did not exactly come from what you might call a normal household. My mom was alway's broke, she was on welfare, there was hardly ever any food in the house, we went months sometimes without electricity, and our mother was physicaly abuseive. The sexual abuse came from my youngest brother though. I only clearly remember a few incidents, but im sure it happend more offten. I developed breast at a very young age and he would take every opportunity to touch or suck on them. He would make me lay down on the couch and perform oral sex on me. He would try to insert his penis in to my rear end. He would make me perform sexual acts on or with him for candy bars or chips, whatever he would have stolen that day from the corner store or else I may not have eaten. Alot of this occured while my mother was at home, she would be upstiars sleeping. She never did speak to me about sex, so I had absolutely no clue as to what he was doing to me, as far as I knew this could have been going on in everyones home. I just didn't know! But that did not keep me from blameing myself. He was only a few years older, why didn't I say no? Why didn't I cry or scream? Why didn't I tell? Now that I think of it I do blame my mother a great deal, by her not explaining sex to me she took away my ability to say no. Alot of things I was feeling at the time I did not know was because I was being molested. I would lay sleepless in bed scratching my hands until I almost blead, I would have night terrors, that I still have off and on. I am now 24 and still don't like for anyone to touch me in my private areas, sometimes when I orgasm I cry or feel nautiouse, I feel dirty after sex. I have no ability to say no, there are times since I have been an adult when men wanted to fondle me or have sex when I din't want to but I didn't feel as though I had the rite to say no. I was also molested by my grandfather at around the ages of 6 thru 9. He would also fondle me. I am now in group therapy, and private counseling. I am also takeing anti-depresents for being suicidal over this and a number of other things. I am doing ok, although almost everyday I have flash backs, I struggle with it everyday, I don't even like to touch my vagina in the shower to wash. I can't go braless because I hate the feeling of my breast rubbing against anything, and it's realy hurting my sex life with my fiancee. My brother and grandfather gave me something I will probably be struggling with for the rest of my life, but I guess I have to take it one day at a time. When you think about it what other choice do we have?

-Niki

Anonymous' Story

hi im now 16 years old and i've finally told my mom what happened to me, about my stepfather, since i was 3 years old. around first grade we moved to this small town and my mom became pregnant with my little sister, and my stepfather started to use me. i remember the first time it happened. he took me into their bedroom and made me take off my cloths, and then he took of his, and made me look at him. i was so scared i didnt know what was going on. then he climed into the bed with me and started touching me. he told me not to tell anyone or else. he was a computer creep as well and i remember him making me sit in front of him underneath his desk and making me do oral, while he looked at porn. he had a movie he would make me watch with him some stupid army one. he made me stay home from school alot since he worked the night shift and my mom worked during the day. one night he was almost caught by my mom, she had worked late but came home early, he had me in his bed underneath him when he heard her come in he told me to stay there and he met her in the hall and insisted she go downstairs with him, then i had to sneak into my room. i was so scared of him i never told anyone so it continued till the end of my 7th grade year. and ever since then i've held onto this dark secret.

my mom questions me on why i never told anyone, even though i try to explain to her why, she'll never really understand, and i cant talk to her about it so she thinks talking to a counsler is gonna help me. i know its worked for some people and for others it hasnt, im just so confused. my stepdad is now out of the house but living in the town i attend highschool. even though hes not here i still lock my door every night since it stopped. im scared of what he could do.

my breakdown was due to another thing, my boyfriend and i of a year and a couple months had broken up a few weeks before. i can admit i was "in love" with him, and i knew he cared about me but then he started acting weird and ignored me for 3 months and i finally asked him if we should break up and he said ya sure. i cried all night after that call. i still miss him and i still love him, and i wish i could tell him what happened to me but i dont want it to be an excuse just to get him back, if u can understand that. i only felt safe around him. when he held me i forgot everything and i was at piece, no flashbacks of what happened, just peace. i still love him and he knows it but im not sure of what to tell him, i want to feel safe again. i want him to hold me in his arms, i want him to know what happened to me and why i felt so distant from him sometimes. should i even try to talk to him?

i just feel theres nothing left to live for, i feel horrible even admiting this, but i have had thoughts about suicide or running away far far away. i even cut myself to stop the pain. but i over came the cutting, but i have some scars. but they'll never come close to the scars he gave me, i dont feel as if i know who i am, i look back at the little girl who i used to be

"She cries out to me The child within myself. She clutches at me Tugging at my thoughts And asking to be remembered. Her small fingers reach through time And her sad, dark eyes Burn the symbol of her pain Onto my soul."

- Broken Feather, Suzanne Stutman.

i saw this on another site and was like wow thats how i picture her. im not the same person. i dont know who i am. i felt complete with my boyfriend and now im completely lost. but it feels better to have come out with it finally even though everythings going downhill now. my couselor had to report it to the authorities so there may be a trial or something but im scared. should i be? shouldnt i feel more couragous now? i dont know what to feel all my emotions are so mixed up. my thoughts go from him, to my bf, my mom, whats going to happen, what could happen. See what i mean. but if anyone has any advice to help me out it would be appreciated alot, email me at danie05_910@hotmail.com

if u can answer any of my ?s concerning any of the about it would be great. but im confused should i tell the one i love or not? thats just one ? i need answered. unless u think this is not important and i should focus on other things like how my mom is taking it i know its hard for her.

-Anonymous

Emilie's Story

After reading some of these stories, I feel almost silly telling mine, which really isn't so bad. But I feel as though I can't talk to anyone I know about this, because no one would take me seriously, I know, or think that I have any reason to be upset. I've tried writing about this in my diary, but it seems like such a release to be writing it somewhere where I know my story will be read and my voice heard.

I guess this really all starts back in August of 2003, when I started college. For some reason, it seems as though I lost all my common sense then. I started doing things that I knew weren't safe, and placing myself in situations that I knew, even at the time, were dangerous. But I kept on doing it, as though I were teasing fate, waiting to see if I would end up hurting myself. Well, I finally did, emotionally at least. About a month ago, my roommate and I were walking back to our dorm from the movies. We had been walking through the casinos, seeing all the people drinking, and both of us wishing that we could be drinking (neither of us are old enough to buy). So we get back to our dorm, and our friend is sitting there on the steps, smoking a cigarette. He invited us back to his room for a shot or two, and we both eagerly accepted. Before we knew it though, "a shot or two" became about six shots, and I was pretty well knocked on my ass, not being a real heavy drinker.

Now, the thing about our friend, is that he's really incredibly gay. So I kind of felt like his room was a "safe place", just like any one of my girl-friends rooms. Somehow though, we ended up making out on his bed (and this is the part I'm kind of ashamed about), and I really have absolutely no idea how that came about. When he started to grab my ass though, I pulled away, because my roommate was sitting there next to us, and I was embarrassed. After that, my roommate and my friend went outside for a smoke, and when they came back, my roommate hugged me and said she was going back to our room. When she was gone, he laid me down on his bed and started kissing me again and touching me. He said he wanted to eat me out, to do me a favor, to relax me. Then he said that I had to say yes to it though, because he didn't want me crying date rape on him. I think I kept saying, "I don't know, I don't know", and all the while, I remember feeling so confused, thinking, "But wait - you're supposed to be gay!".

Of course, the alcohol didn't exactly help to clarify my mind or sharpen my decision making skills. And the whole time he was asking me to tell him yes or no, he kept fondling me and kissing me and rubbing my crotch. Finally, I groaned, and he said, "I take that as a yes". He performed oral sex on me, and also put his fingers inside me. I'm a virgin, and it hurt, so I tried to push his hand away. He asked me if it hurt, and when I said yes, he said, in a falsely gently tone, "Oh, then we won't do that again", but not a minute or two later, he was putting his fingers inside me again, and this time when I tried to push his hand away, he ignored me. I never verbally tried to stop him though.

I woke up the next morning in my own room with a huge hickie and a hangover, and strangely, some bruises on my thighs, although I didn't remember him being that rough. I knew that we hadn't had sex, and was relieved, thinking that it wouldn't be as hard to face him because of that. But after that night, whenver I saw him in the halls, he'd just lightly say "Hi" and keep walking. That's when I really began to feel used, and for the first time, cheap. Evern since that night a month ago, I've been struggling with the ethics of the situation, wondering if what he did was really wrong. Did he take advantage of the fact that I was drunk? Does me never really saying yes and trying to push his hand away at one point make it wrong? I don't know. All I know is that the whole night feels not quite right to me, as though he should have had more sense to do something so intimate with someone who was so drunk. I even remember now that I asked him if it bothered him that I wouldn't be doing any of this if I weren't totally trashed. I don't remember his answer, but I'm guessing it was something along the lines of no.

So I don't really know where to go from here. I'm still not sure if anything he did was wrong, if I should just forget about it and move on. But I do know that I'm reminded almost daily of that night by his constant presence (we live in the same building). And I know that it hurts to see him, and it hurts to remember.

-Emilie

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