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A Survivor Not a Victim

Overcoming Rape

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This is a collection of survivors who have decided to share their story. You are all so BRAVE and STRONG

Saasha

“Who I’m- survivor of Sexual assault(s), 23 years old, nationality Indian, Living in Canada.
Few years ago, I went overseas for my Studies. I was staying with my dad’s brother, my uncle who had bad drinking habits. I never get to know my dad’s family very well because they were living overseas. I was around 10 years old when I saw them last time. They were visiting us for 1-2 weeks that time. its been long time since i saw them last time, and now I was about to live with this family of my dad. Day comes, and now I was living with them. everything was good for first 1-2 months, but then things were changing especially my uncle. He was watching me each and every second I was in that house, while I’m sleeping, watching TV, or preparing my food, when I’m getting ready like all the time. He was like staring at me, I saw him making faces, blowing kisses, whistling and touching himself while he was watching me. I was getting scared, but I pretended that I never saw him doing any of it. Terrible part was he was doing this in front of everyone and no one was saying anything to him. He started making excuses to touch me or get closer to me. His touch was scaring me.

I was sharing my room with my grandmother, and my sister. He started coming to my room drunk even my grandma and sister are in there too. He knew I was scared. Every time he was looking at me, he had that scary smile or laugh on his face. My grandparents, his wife was blaming me for his behavior because as they said I wear half sleeves which was provoking him. Whenever he was drunk I asked my grandmother to give him his meal. He realized that I’m ignoring him. Now his anger was coming out. He started yelling at us (me and my sister), and my grandparents. He started hitting his wife and my grandmother, started bitching at my parents and us. He was punching into wall, throwing TV remotes at everyone and breaking laptops and TVs by punching. He was replacing broken TV with New TV again and again (can’t even count how many times). He was coming to my room and lay on my lap in front of my grandparents and his wife. Every time I was running/or pushing him away, we were facing his anger. It was everyday story. I remember sitting in the corner of my cousin’s room, scared, closed eyes, covering my ears while he was screaming my name outside. To calm him down, my grandparents and his wife makes me sit next to him in living room. Where he was touching my thighs, trying to kiss me, rotating my face to look at him. I can’t forget his scary face and laugh. No one was stopping him, he was coming to my room every other night. He was touching me, kissing me, rubbing his penis against me and I was just crying, frozen physically and mentally; doing nothing. Darkness of night and tic tic of the clock was killing me. All this was so regular that everyone in that house was now ignoring everything. They were letting him do whatever he wanted. I was not sleeping anymore. 4-5 days continuously without sleep (not even for 15 minutes) was my normal routine now. If ever I fell sleep by mistake, there was there staring at me in my room. No one was helping me in that house, so I tried telling people at my college, people just ignored. My physical and mental health everything got effected. I started missing my school, work, stopped my social life. I was too scared that I lived there for 2 years. I got so affected mentally that I was not able to remember who I was or what my name was. I remember going to my college once and I sat there, cried for 45 minutes because I didn’t remember who and where I was, and what I was doing there. Streets, college students, college building everything seems familiar but was unknown. Throughout my life; from when I was 4-5 until now I had these memories or blur flashbacks of my childhood. During childhood and my teenage years, my life, my Actions was not making any sense to me. I was touching myself since I was 5 may be. I didn’t know what I was doing, I was just feeling good. Making things clear here, I didn’t know what was sex until I was 17. It funny that until my 17th, I believed that kissing each other on lips is sex. I know this is stupid, and childish. This put smile on my face right now that how childish I was but makes me sad too that I was unaware that I innocence had been already taken away. I hate myself that how could I like touching myself. These memories were of my early childhood, I was 3-4 year old. Few of these memories are, my 19-20 years cousin brother choking me with his penis, fingering and licking my vagina every day for 4-6 months in my own house. Remember that I was 3-4 that time. Oh boy, my body is shaking with fear now… [Pause]. All I remember after that is crying from pain and cleaning my own blood from my vagina. I was too young to understand that what it was. So, I recover from this thing somehow. May be because I didn’t know what that was, or I was too young to understand.

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Anyways, my uncle thing trigger all those memories causing more psychological damage. I stop fighting physically. I stayed there in that house with my uncle 2 years. I was dead from inside, no emotions at all. I was feeling nothing, totally numb. I was not talking to anyone anymore. If someone was starting a conversation, I was not answering properly. So people stop talking to me either. Now my grandparents were angry at me too because I was the reason of every problem in that house. He and my fear both didn’t let me sleep every night. I started falling asleep in day when he is not at home. But my grandparents will not let me especially. They start checking out my bags, purses, looking for money. My grandma used to prepare dinner for everyone. She stopping preparing my food. I was eating not even once per day. I was not feeling like eating. My body messed up, physically, emotionally, everything was changed. If I was eating, half of 6 inch means 3 inch subway once a day or milk or something similar. That was my food for day for almost a more than year. I lose my weight, Got dark circles, anxiety problems, major depression… I was not myself anymore. My doctor put me on anti-depressants and sleeping pills.

Finally one day, I broke down emotionally and told one of my former classmate who was active in social groups. He contacted a social worker and police. I was out from that house now and my uncle got arrested and released. I pressed the charges and got restraining order against him. All he got was probation and prohibited of consumption of alcohol for 1 year. It’s been more than a year that I’m out from that house but I’m still on high dose of anti-depressants and sleeping pills.

I thought end of the story is end of my pain. But this didn’t stop here. I found this video of a local popular you-tuber from my community about his recovery from major depression. I was overwhelmed. I know this guy through my former friends/classmates and met him once or twice before. But never talked to him. He is good comedian, and I used to watch his videos. So his depression video goes viral and he told that he would love to talk to anyone about depression if anyone wants and suffering from it. He was former students of my college too, so I text him on social media. My first message to him was, “Hi how are you? I need your help. Please help me. Tell me what help you got/how did you survive this depression?” I was so overwhelmed, I was just throwing question after question. He told me that He would like to talk about it in person. So I said yes. I got text from him another day that If I have time today we can meet today. Again, I said yes. He told me that he is coming with his female friend, where I wants to meet? When I heard that he is coming with his female friend, I got comfortable and I said at my place. I was not OK to talk about incident or depression in public. It was around 10 pm. He sent me a text that they are 5 minutes away from my house. Bell rang!!! I opened the door, He came in. He was alone. I asked him where his friend is. He said he dropped her at some place. Now I was scared, and totally uncomfortable. He sat at one side of the sofa and I’m at other end. I was having maximum distance from him I can. As I was talking about depression, He starts coming closer. I told him that He should stay there where he is as I’m not comfortable. I repeated myself 3-4 times. He didn’t stop. He hold my hands, and started rubbing it on his chest. He was rubbing his penis against me. Reminding me of my uncle, my fucking body was frozen again. I didn’t fight him physically. But kept saying no, Stop this, no stop this please. He Masturbated and left. I spent my all night sitting on the floor with fear. I felt guilty that I invited him at my place and didn’t fight back. He gave me marks of bites all over my neck. I hate this body. I wish I could get rid of it. I wish I could cut my fucking vagina. Why did I survive my childhood abuse? Why I’m still alive? I was so strong, what happened to me? Why men are so strong that I can’t push them away? Why the fucking I …what the fuck I’m doing here. Why the fuck I’m alive. I hate myself, you know why? I confronted him when he sent me text again one day, He apologized and I fucking believed him. I thought it was all misunderstanding, because i invited him at my place and he took it in wrong way. but I didn’t invited him alone, he was coming with his female friend. And I was saying no. We argue over this, and I felt he is really sorry for his actions. I accepted his apologized. Next thing I remember, he asking me that “so we are not having any misunderstanding anymore. Everything is clear right?” I said, “Yes”. He said you wants to go for coffee, I took it as sorry. Again, this stupid me said yes to him, and trusted him again. We went for coffee, we talked. Everything was clear. I felt that he is sorry. I asked him to drop me at my place, we get into car. Next thing, he was masturbating. I was shocked. Car was locked, it was really dark outside, no car, except some bike Gang members may be. I told him to drop me home. He said lets go. Instead of dropping me at my place, He went to his place. Car stopped!! I asked him where are we? He said this is my home. I said, “I thought you’re dropping me at my place.” HE said yes I’m. I need to pick something, you should also have some water, come inside. It will not take long. He started touching me again. I told him stop stop stop stop please don’t stop stop for more than an hour. At this point, he was screaming, yelling at me. He was angry. All he said was stop pretending. My phone was dead, I didn’t know my location. I knew I was not going anywhere. If I ran, He’s gonna get me. He will beat me up to death, He will lock me up and will rape me every day. I was scared for my life, not just for getting raped. He spared me life, but I was raped all night…
I didn’t tell anymore for 5 months that I got raped, that It happened again. But it was all my fault, if i hadn’t been contact him at first place, If i hadn’t been so scared, If i hadn’t been trusted him again. and now I refusing to admit that I had been raped, that I let myself raped again..I just can’t give up the sense of control that I rebuild again and again. I just can’t.

I told my counselor and police few weeks ago. i’m just not able to admit that I had been assaulted again. this can’t be right!! this can’t be happening again.”

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Sexual Harassment Starts Younger Than One Would Think

Author: Anonymous

“Everybody always talks about how when they got to their 16, 17, 18, and 19 years, and how they faced sexual harassment almost daily, but no one ever talks about how it starts much sooner. I’ve been experiencing sexual harassment since at least fourth grade.

In fourth grade (I went to a rough school), kids were discovering twerking, or, as it was called at the time, the “booty dance” (stupid, I know, but we were fourth grade). Guys would go to the curviest girl in the grade (me) and ask them to do the booty dance for them. If we didn’t, they would threaten us. Petty little things, like “I’ll steal your homework and shove it in the toilet” or “I won’t let you out on the playground” but in fourth grade, those were awful threats. So, I learned how to twerk and entertain the boys.

In sixth grade, I was walking to my desk, right in front of a teacher, and a guy slapped my ass and called me his bitch. The teacher looked away and pretended she never saw. I asked her why she didn’t do anything, and she said “boys will be boys”.

8th grade was awful. Guys figured out that the teachers wouldn’t punish them for harassment, so they went overboard. I remember a guy grabbing my backpack while it was on my back and humping it. Guys would walk by me and my friends seat and yank our hair and say “ya like that hoe?” guys would push us to the floor on the bus and pretend to fuck us. I remember a guy pulling a knife on me because I said no to his advances.

Everyone always talks about harassment in girl’s later teenage years, but people rarely realize that it happens when we’re young, too, we’re just to blind to see it.”

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I agree with this author, and I think that a large part of the problem with sexual harassment and rape today is that issues like what the author are not addressed. Children are taught at a very young age that “boys will be boys” or that when someone sees an inappropriate action being done to another person, that the “correct” thing to do is look the other way. These types of attitudes must change!

Story #3 ~ Harley

#3 Harley   💖

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This fall will be four years since it happened. I met this guy in one of my classes, and we had been dating a little. He seemed like a nice guy, and I thought I really liked him. He went downtown to the bar one night, and I went with some friends and met him there. He was ready to leave and pretty drunk. I had not drank any so I was fine. He asked if I wanted to go to his place to watch movie.

We got to his apartment, and he asked if I wanted a drink. I told him no, and he threw a glass at the wall and screamed. He kept drinking, but I would not have anything. I told him I thought it would be best if I called a taxi to leave and we could talk the next day. He got very angry and slapped me and pushed me onto the couch. I kicked him and screamed, but nothing helped. He started taking my clothes off, and I couldn’t do anything. It was like I was in another world. I couldn’t scream anymore or couldn’t make myself move. I felt so weak and helpless. He slapped me a couple times while hurting me. After what seemed like a lifetime he got up and slapped me again and laughed at me calling me names. I would have rather been dead than be in that situation. I couldn’t move or do anything. I sat on the floor the rest of the night.

He got up the next morning and grabbed me and said he was taking me home. I cried the whole ride which seemed like hours while he was laughing and calling me names. I got home and showered and decided I wasn’t telling anyone. I was so ashamed and so embarrassed and weak feeling I never wanted anyone to know. It’s been almost four years, and I just told three people in the last few months. I hope one day to be completely passed it, but at the moment I am not and still have nightmares and think about it daily.

Story #2 ~ Amelia

#2 Amelia ❤

My father used to come home from work and take a shower. I was 11 years old, watching Hannah Montana on his bed when he came out of the shower and tickled me. He was naked the whole time.

My father was kind of creepy after that, like touching my butt and stuff, so I stayed my distance from him. But, one night, I begged him to buy me some boots that all the other girls in school were getting. I told him I would do anything. He took me into his bedroom and gave me oral sex. I was just 11 years old.

Oral sex happened about 10 times over the next 2 years. He justified it by saying it was how to show me how much he loved me.

My father never had intercourse with me, saying that was something only a husband and a wive did. What a hypocrite! He is no longer in my life.

I’m sorry I can’t say anything positive, but I’m over it and I think that is positive.

Amelia

 

Story #1 ~ Katie

#1 Katie ♡

Almost 7 years have gone by. I blocked out what he had done for 4 years until a memory, a flashback, a realization came in like a flood. And no matter how hard I wanted to, there was no going back. I had to face it. He raped me. He took my virginity and all my innocence. Right in my own bed. There are some things I will never remember. Like the day or days it happened. What exactly was said. But there are many things I do remember. It was right around my 21st birthday. I remember him convincing my sick and over emotional mind that my neighbor was a predator and that he could protect me. I never imagined that the predator would be my friend’s husband. That it was he I needed protecting from. He did everything he could to get my neighbor out of my life. He would spend the night in my bedroom on an air mattress the first few times. And then he sweet talked his way into my bed. And he sweet talked his way inside me. I don’t remember exactly what he said. It could have been something like “I’m going to show you how a real man does it” or “Sex will get rid of your headache.” He never said so, but he implied that he was protecting me from my neighbor so I needed to thank him. He never said it in those words but that’s what he did.
It was soon after that. That I did my last, but serious suicide attempt.
I hated myself, who I had become. That I had slept with my friend’s husband (though now I know it was really rape) and what a deadbeat loser I was. Other factors played into it. And I knew it was time to exit the world, that no one would miss me. I downed probably close to a bottle of Tylenol PM, crying the whole time. I must have gotten scared and had second thoughts. Maybe God reached out to me. Because I called myself an ambulance.
I went to the ER. They pumped my stomach. Stuck a tube right down my throat and just to be safe, made me drink the gosh-awful charcoal to absorb all the poison in my system
After all that, my neighbor came to the ER. He saw the EMT’s take me away and he never felt so sick in all his life. Despite the temporary restraining order my abuser convinced me to get on him, despite everything. He came to see me. To tell me that nothing was worth me dying over.
He stayed with me until I was taken to the psych ward. And he came and visited me every day until I returned home.
We realized we loved each other and didn’t want to live a day without one another. We knew we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.
He used to hold my hand and make me feel safe until I fell asleep. But he never made me do anything I didn’t want to.
I decided that summer, the summer I turned 21 (a few months after my rape or rapes that it was time to get my life together and be someone worth loving. I finally quit cutting, blocked everything out that had to do with him or pain, or my old life. Only moving forward. It was shortly after that, that I received my temporary job trial at the library which ended up becoming permanent. I put everything into becoming a new person. In hindsight, it was probably triggered or set off by the trauma I went through. I had to do anything and everything I could do to forget. Yes, I’d see him, he even showed up at the apartment once or twice. But, I pretended like we were friends and it was normal. I do remember pretending, pretending, pretending. Anything to keep that out of my mind, and my new happy life.
It caught up with me a few years later. I could no longer deny what happened, and that something had to have happened to cause me this much pain and trauma.
In therapy I remember talking about him and what he did and going “it’s almost like he raped me.” And after that it was like “oh my gosh. He did”
So, for the past three years I have been going through what I should have right after it happened.
It happened almost 7 years ago, but feels like it was not long ago.
Now, I’m on the long journey of healing. To finding myself and to forgiving myself. There is no going back, only forward! I have taken great strides and have come so far in my recovery. I still border between survivor and thriver, but I’m working hard to stick with one… Thriving!
I have talked opening about what happened to me with my therapist and close friends and blogging. And while I’ll still be blogging, my goals are to focus less on what he did, what happened to me and how I can actively take back my life, and be the best Katie I can be! I’m also going to focus more on my self care, and be more fair to myself.
My name is Katie, something bad happened to me but it no longer defines me. I’m not a victim or survivor, I’m just Katie.

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