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Welcome to NO MORE Silence, Speak Your Truth.

This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.

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Story
From a survivor
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  • You are surviving and that is enough.

    Story
    From a survivor
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    I’m sorry, but I’m no longer here for you; I’m here for myself.

    Many times I've wondered how to begin narrating my story, whether I should start from the beginning or when "love had arrived." I could start by saying that I fell in love with the person I thought was my best friend. Wow, it’s supposed that when there’s a friendship of that magnitude, love should be great. Time passed, and years later, that friendship turned into a relationship, which, for my heart, was one of the most beautiful things that had ever happened to me. I flew 1,295 miles from my country to the United States for him, believing that finally, my true love story would become a reality. I knew he had a strong character and was a bit egocentric, something that bothered me, but I always tried to ignore those thoughts with the "sweet gestures" he could have with me. In the third year of our relationship, after discovering an online affair (they were only chatting because they were in different countries), he proposed to me. Shortly after we got married, we bought our first house together. Wow, if we weighed it all out, there were many wonderful moments that turned into sad endings because, according to him, I didn’t do something right, and many times I would repeat to myself, “I need to be better for myself and for him,” but for him, I was never good enough. Little by little, I started to fade. His words and actions took me to the darkest places—depression and anxiety. From there, it got even darker: a fight in the bathroom where he was the only one talking, and I had long ago decided to remain silent to avoid making the problem worse. I remember that night we were sitting on the bathroom floor arguing, and when it ended, we decided to leave the bathroom. I was walking behind him, continuing the argument, and that’s when he decided to push me, making me fall back several feet. I had never felt so vulnerable in my life. Among the physical pain I felt in my body, the pain in my soul was even stronger. He apologized and insisted that he thought I was coming after him to hit him. I insisted that I would be incapable of doing something like that, but once again, I was blamed. Shortly after, the problems in the relationship intensified, and there was more crying than laughing. I blamed the depression, but deep down, I knew it was everything that was happening there. I decided to seek professional help and started working with a psychiatrist. For more than a year, I was in therapy and on medication, and that’s when my awakening began. I’ll never forget the day my therapist said to me, "I want you to do an exercise that I know I shouldn’t ask of you." I forgot to mention that I earned my psychology degree in my home country. She continued, “We’re going to make a diagnosis, but it’s not for you. If I’m right, our therapy is going to change drastically because you’ll have only two options: divorce or couples therapy.” Although she didn’t say it, she was leaning more towards divorce. Her request was, "Let’s diagnose, based on observation, whether your husband is a narcissist. You’ve given me many examples that are raising red flags for me." She managed to get an interview with him, and in the end, we reached the diagnosis: I was married to a narcissist. I had been too ashamed to tell her that a week earlier, I was not only a victim of his physical aggression when he pushed me, but he had also pulled my hair. I had never felt so ashamed of myself until I had to talk about it with my therapist. Her only words were, “Run from there; there’s no turning back.” How grateful I am to her for those words. Today, almost a year after our legal divorce, although this path hasn’t been easy, I feel that I’ve become a much more resilient woman. No matter how difficult the situation is, no matter how much pain you may feel, love doesn’t have to be the excuse to push your limits. I knew for a long time that I needed to leave, and it’s not easy. Finding that strength is not easy, but today I can say that when your love for yourself grows every day, it’s that love that helps you move forward. Losing everything and losing myself to find myself has been the most beautiful experience life has given me. NO MORE. Only you have the power to break the cycle.

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  • “I have learned to abound in the joy of the small things...and God, the kindness of people. Strangers, teachers, friends. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but there is good in the world, and this gives me hope too.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Our Stories Have Power

    I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world. He was romantic, smart, funny, loving, kind, everything I had ever wanted in a guy. When things started to shift, I deeply believed it was my responsibility as his girlfriend to comfort him, take care of him, fix him. But as the breakdowns became more consistent, as he became more violent, as the words grew heavier and more hurtful, I was left feeling drained. My belief that I was supposed to stick by his side no matter what, that love was forgiving and forgetting, destroyed me. He was broken, and it was selfish to leave him. He didn’t mean it, he apologized eventually, he comforted me when he hurt me, so it was okay. But if I could go back in time, I’d scream “leave now, save yourself.” Because these excuses I was making were just that. Excuses. It was not normal. It was not okay. No excuses could be made to make his behavior normal. I just want everyone out there to know that it is not your fault. You are not weak. You are not stupid for not seeing it sooner. You were in love with someone who only showed you a small aspect of themselves, and then revealed the rest when you were already in too deep. One time is enough. It wasn’t an accident the first time, and it won’t be an accident the next. The recovery process is hard. But it’s so worth it. And you are worth so much more than what he declares over you. Please know that you are not alone. I’m rooting for you and I know others are too.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    From Survival to Safety

    Hello, Name, and I am a domestic violence survivor reaching out in hopes of sharing my story to raise awareness and help protect other women and children. After enduring severe domestic violence, and my kids and I being kidnapped ..  I finally saw justice when the defendant in my case was found guilty and sentenced to 60 years in prison. While that conviction brought accountability, it did not end the impact of the abuse on my life or on my children’s lives. The violence we survived changed everything. My children witnessed trauma no child should ever experience, and we were forced to leave our home and everything familiar to start over in order to stay safe. The aftermath of abuse has affected our emotional well-being, stability, and ability to rebuild a sense of normalcy. I am sharing my story not for sympathy, but to bring awareness to the realities of domestic violence—especially how it affects children long after the court cases end. Survivors often escape with nothing, and rebuilding requires support, safety, and resources. Link If you are interested, I am willing to speak openly and honestly about what we endured, the legal process, and what life looks like after survival. My hope is that by telling our story, we can help save lives and bring awareness to the importance of protecting women and children. Thank you for your time and for the work you do in bringing important stories to light. Link Sincerely, NamecontactDomestic Violence Survivor

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    #1140

    I am the partner of someone with diagnosed bipolar. He is 52. Diagnosed and treated since his 20s. We were together for 3 years this month and I have stood by and supported him for 3 years. It has been a very difficult and rocky road. He was stable for many, many years and then triggered possibly by the sudden death of his mother and forced into several med changes. He then lost 2 jobs after having the same one for 20 years, crashed his car when manic and had a terrible gambling episode. This all happened in 2023- To name just a few of the incidents…. After so much hard work, we thought he has finally "stable" - since fall of 2023- and then the unthinkable happened last week- he hit me in the face, punched a hole through my door and shattered a full length mirror. He had never been physical to me- ever. I waited a year after we met to introduce him to my 2 boys and then he become their everything, especially my youngest. They walked in minutes after I kicked him out to their mom battered, broken glass and a door punched through. They have never witnessed any violence in their lives and have a super stable home. That was 5 days ago and we are in total agony. Like grieving a sudden death. Having him hurt me is a line I never thought he could ever be capable of. He has tried to contact me, but I think he is still in an episode- his emails (I blocked him elsewhere) are about how agonizing this is for him and lack an even understanding of the pain my family is going through. We can barely keep our heads above water right now. He is the most loving, intuitive and empathetic human I have ever known- how can this be about him? Please help me with any insight. I am seeing my therapist- 3x this week already, and got medical attention....I am having no contact with him, but insight from those of you who have experienced would help so much. He is on a combo of seizure medicine and antipsych which we thought was working. seizure medicine for sleep and antipsych as a rescue. He’s never been hospitalized. I’ve let his family know what’s happening but they are 8 hours away and I don’t think doing much and he doesn’t really have anyone else locally but me. I am grieving so hard. I am heartbroken. He was the love of my life that I wasn’t even looking for. I was with someone from age 18-45- married for 20 of those years - had my 2 children with him. And I have more memories and feelings and love for this man of 3 years than for my ex husband. As hard as these 3 years have been, he was my second chance, my love. Met him by accident - wasn’t even looking. And the thought of all of us starting over (my children’s father rarely sees them- only on occasion). Well, it almost feels too much to bear. It hurts more than the hit to my face did. And that is really messing with me. I know I can’t go back. I know it will now happen again - I’m told by my therapist, I’m reading it everywhere. I don’t want to even model that to my kids. My youngest is devastated - said to me “it feels like he died in a car crash suddenly and we never got to say goodbye but he caused it on purpose”. They were best friends- the closest I’d ever seen my son get to anyone other than me or my other son. My older son I had to drop at college 6 hours away 1 day after it happened. And all he cares about is if I’m ok. That burden is so unfair. They are 19 and 15. And I’m so so angry at the same time. I can’t make sense of anything right now I guess…. I want so badly deep down to believe he was wronged as a child or that this mental illness is responsible, that he is capable of rehabilitation - and at the same time I am so angry that I went him arrested and exposed - I want him never to do this to me or anyone again. I’m drowning in my anxiety and thoughts

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  • “It can be really difficult to ask for help when you are struggling. Healing is a huge weight to bear, but you do not need to bear it on your own.”

    Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇫🇮

    I believe in us.

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  • If you are reading this, you have survived 100% of your worst days. You’re doing great.

    Story
    From a survivor
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    Claire

    I awoke the morning of July 5th, year in a bed I don’t remember going to sleep in, next to a person I’d never even met. When someone violates your trust and your body they become a different person to you. Almost instantaneously. I had been in his bed with him before, but I really noticed it then. The voice I heard stung my ears, his laugh made me cringe. But it wasn’t that I knew right away what happened to me, and what he did was wrong. It was the fact I thought I made a mistake I had to live with forever. I thought it was a “misunderstanding”. The fact I didn’t say yes, I said no. I closed my legs. As I got up out of that bed, I have no memory until I was in my car driving home. When we talk about the combination of trauma brain and 27 28 probably at least six drinks in my system. All I wanted was a shower, maybe that would erase all of this. Maybe it was a mistake, people regret having sex all the time, not like this. I began to have panic attacks while I was alone or when his name came up. He later became very angry at me, and humiliated me. I was forced to engage in sex against my will. My very, very, stumbling, blurry, intoxicated will. I said no, why wasn’t that enough? Why was that the first time I did that with a man? Why did it feel like my heart was broken? Because my heart was broken. Trust violated, and I didn’t know how to tell anyone what happened. The person you used to call in these situations became the reason it happened. I never thought anyone would ever believe me. I also really didn’t identify it as anything other than a mistake, ick. The next day when I came home I proceeded to take off my American Eagle brand blue Jeans, White T-Shirt, and maroon-colored American Eagle sweater. I sat in the shower for an hour. Later that fall I found those clothes in the trunk of my car, that makes me think I remember even less than I do and that fucks with me. I donated that sweater about a year ago. I should have burned it. About two weeks before it happened, you told me that you were no longer attracted to me anymore. And that's fine. We were at a party. That party was for our friend, Name (Name is a story of another time), but I was intoxicated by the time you got to the party. I think I arrived at 4, and was too drunk to drive by 5pm. When you got to the party, I drunkenly told you how much I was attracted to you, and you rejected me. You told me that you were no longer attracted to me. In those words. But why would you then do this two weeks later, if you weren’t attracted to me, why sex? 29 The following spring, I had moved into an apartment with a few strangers, and that is when the memories started to really come back to me. Laying in bed one night, thinking about my experience, I casually G-O-O-G-L-E-D what is “non consensual oral sex”. The person that I am today cannot believe that I was in this much denial from all of this, that I had something done to my body and didn’t even know. When was it going to let me know? When this thought prompted, I knew I didn’t consent to what happened to me, but I didn’t want to admit that it was sexual assault. So what was I looking for? I wanted some middle-ground answer to pop up, an answer like, ‘you’re not wrong, but you weren’t sexually assaulted’ but there really is no in between. I acted as if my experience did not warrant the title of the experience of others that I thought might be “worse” than my situation. Non-consensual oral sex. What became of this fucked up search history that I’m sure someone somewhere can see what I”m looking up and say ‘damn, that’s fucked up’ what came up was R-A-P-E. I stared at the computer screen, started to shake and look over what sources and what people say, what the law and science says. That is an uncomfortable word. It doesn’t just come out, it is a dirty word that is said, and it doesn’t just come off the tongue, it sits there and lingers and anticipates the reaction you know is coming because the person you told also knows the person who harmed you. I looked at state law, by law, these dirty words I’d hate to make you uncomfortable to read, is rape. That was the most validation I had ever needed. I had issues with relationships after that. I had one bad memory from him, and all the other memories from him would shatter. This was unfortunately a common feeling for me because he attempted to rape me a few months back. Looking back, that was way worse than I ever imagined. Today I educate people that attempted rapes are almost as traumatic for your brain as the sexual assault. Your brain 30 recognizes the same thing, but in my mind, eventually my no was taken, so I had the power right? Why did he listen to me then? My body became uncomfortable in my own skin. I wanted a new body, one that had not been touched by yours, one that didn’t have your mouth on it, hands that did not touch yours, and gone through something, I'm sorry I can’t tell you everything because I don’t remember. You hear that? I don’t remember. I used to say, if someone that didn’t have my psyche came up to me and told me exactly what happened to me, happened to them, and then told me that they were unsure if the feelings they had in their own body, the only thing we truely own, the only thing we can truly love, I would say definitely it is sexual assault. I would probably be inquisitive to the fact that what they are telling me is in fact, sexual assault. I would tell myself that I didn’t consent, and that question would automatically be answered. But when it happens to yourself, you know that feeling. Again, the feeling of disgust, nothing has ever fit that feeing more and that was a fucked up comfort and validation that I had been looking for. Oh my god, someone else actually knows how I feel, it wasn’t just me, I am not completely and utterly alone with these thoughts. This was rape. If that word makes you uncomfortable, imagine how uncomfortable it makes me. It doesn’t slide off the tongue, it sits there and anticipates the reactions it knows is coming, because the person that you’re talking to also knows him. This person is also under the assumption you were still attracted to him, which is disgusting that you ever even took the time to entertain. Trauma is stored in the body. It’s unfortunately, and to me, accurately described as a rush of sharp energy that rages through my body, and makes me hypervigilant. Not only that, Every year, my body freaks out at the same time of year, every year my body freaks out with the warm weather. Around the time of year I met him, May or June. Unfortunately as this story continued, that became more and more relevant to my story and even morphed into other parts of 31 the year associated with him. Like we have fall time, attempted rape occurred. We have wintertime, a few days before christmas one year, attempted rape occurred. However, especially spring/summer time of year breaks me apart, and it has affected a lot of my physical relationships, and feeling of safety. I guess July 5th changed me. Changed me into the woman I am today, but I am happy to say the woman I am today helps others that need support and advocacy. Out of all this bad, all these years of feeling trapped, I am finally able to set some of myself free from what happened to me.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Survivor

    If you are reading this please know you are not alone. When I was 15 years old and had just gotten back from eating disorder treatment, I was lonely, lost, and vulnerable. I had zero sexual experience, in fact I had never had my first kiss yet. One night I went to a small party, and drank a lot without knowing my limits because I had never drank before. Long story short, I blacked out and only remember bits and pieces of the night. Unfortunately I have a few memories that I can never forget. A completely sober boy came to the party and ended up taking advantage of me. I remember waking up the next day in pain and I found blood all over my shorts. I convinced myself I asked for that to happen and it was my fault. As much as it disgust me to say, I even felt somewhat special that anybody would even find me attractive enough to have sex with. I was confused and didn’t understand. A lot happened after that night and I ultimately felt like a used piece of trash that had already been thrown out. It took me awhile to understand what had really happened to me. I’ve been working on my healing journey for years since that night, but still find myself struggling constantly. I still sometimes question if maybe I’m just being dramatic and im the only one to blame for what happened. I know deep down that’s not true, but it’a a difficult thing to process. Honestly, I am angry. I’m angry that this boy has never and will never take accountability and that he gets to live a life without the trauma and pain I feel everyday. I feel heartbroken for myself and all other victims who have experienced SA. My ultimate goal in sharing my story is that at least one person can relate and feel less lonely. I want them to realize that what happened to them is not their fault and I believe them. I hope you all know how important you are.

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  • “I really hope sharing my story will help others in one way or another and I can certainly say that it will help me be more open with my story.”

    We all have the ability to be allies and support the survivors in our lives.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    A childhood filled with shame

    For a long time I hid behind the shame of what happened to me. It took a long time and some therapy before I was able to speak about my childhood. Growing up in a chaotic home due to parents that were addicts made it easy for me to be hurt. I always thought that somehow it was my fault. I don’t remember every part of what happened but the pieces that I can recall are unsettling. I have memories of an older cousin showing myself and two other cousins different parts of his body as a child. I knew it was wrong and from what I remember, most of it was being in a dark living room with the TV on and trying to hide from an adult seeing us. After some time I remember my female cousin who was the same age as me showing me how to masturbate and later on we engaged in oral sexual acts on various occasions. Her bother who was two years younger than me would touch me until I caved in to do things with him as well. I just remember feeling so scared that someone was going to find out. I can’t even recall how we learned how to do those things. I was embarrassed but also terrified of an adult finding out and us getting into trouble. I carried that shame with me forever and always felt like it was my fault since I was older than him. I wish I could recall all of the details and how it all started and ended. Later in life, I had a guy over to hook up with which I regret. After we had sex the first time I was done. I didn’t want to have unprotected sex but I didn’t stop him when he started up again. I just remembered feeling frozen and the sound of his breathing and his smell made me relive the experiences with my cousin. That was when I decided to talk to my therapist about what had happened. It took a while for me to understand that I had no reason to feel shame and that it was not my fault. I have worked on my healing process and I can understand it a lot better now as an adult.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Name Story

    I just wanted to share that after leaving a domestic violence relationship, there is hope for healing and a healthy relationship. I had to learn to love myself again and find my happiness. I truly wanted to give up multiple times through my journey as I could not see a happy end to it but I am forever grateful that I kept pushing forward. I hope my story can reach one person going through the same thing and let her or him know there is hope. My ex husband verbally abused me for years and when the verbal abuse stopped working it turned physical. Anytime he would physically abuse me he would take away all means for me to seek help (ie cell phone, car keys etc) and I would not be able to get away until the next day. Following the abuse he would deprive me of sleep that same night so I was always be physically and mentally drained the following day. I tried to go to the police department multiple times the day after these incidents happened and they would tell me there was nothing they could do unless if I made contact when it was happening. I was baffled with the lack of support. My daughter would witness some of his events but was too scared to call anyone because she was afraid of retribution from her dad. No child should ever have to witness a parent abusing the other. She has had to be in counseling after the divorce because she felt guilt over not calling the cops and PTSD from witnessing his attacks on me. I finally got the courage to leave when he started to threaten to kill me and himself. Law enforcement again said that there was nothing that they could do during this time. We went to court and I thought I would finally get my chance to be heard and I was very wrong. The courts hired a guardian ad litem (GAL) to represent my daughter. I explained the abuse to her and she stated that she no longer cared about the abuse on me because I have removed myself from the situation by moving out. She also told my 10 year old daughter at the time that she needed to forget about it as well and start over fresh. She also said to my daughter to not be listening to me which made my daughter felt like she did not have a voice. My ex husband charmed the GAL into thinking that I filled my daughter's head with all of the abuse and negative talk about him and the GAL threatened to send me in for a mental evaluation. She also threatened to take custody from me. This was all because I was fighting so hard for someone just to listen to me. I had even provided professional witnesses that the GAL refused to contact. I've never felt so down and so voiceless in my life. This is when I decided I was going to fight harder and not give up. I volunteered to go talk to whoever they wanted me to talk to as long as my soon to be ex husband had to have the same evaluation. The judge ordered us to family and individual counseling. Within the first month of counseling the counselor diagnosed him as a narcissistic psychopath and me as having PTSD from domestic violence. She also recommended extensive counseling for our daughter as she was depressed and had severe anxiety. It was freeing to feel validated but the fight was far from over. The second he was diagnosed by the counselor, my ex husband stopped cooperating in counseling even though it was court ordered. I had to file months of contempt court motions and was forced to find a new counselor because he claimed that one was biased. The second counselor diagnosed him with the same thing. I was recommended by the first counselor to bring all of my proof to the police department and try to file charges against him. I had 24 months from the last attack to file a police report. I met one officer that had the kindest soul and was married to a domestic abuse survivor. He stated that State law so infuriating. He informed me that the prosecutor most likely won't even take my case since I've moved out and away from the situation. He did sincerely apologize and he listened to me. He sat down with me and let me tell him my whole story. He told me that he went through all of this with his now wife and it is so frustrating. He also shook my boyfriend's now husband's hand that came up there with me for support. That was the one law enforcement officer that listened to me out of many interactions but he made the biggest impact on my life. I have now been married for 3 years. I still struggle with certain triggers but they are less often. My husband is aware of them and is so patient with me. I had to retrain my brain to not be in constant flight or fight constantly. Some days are harder than others but the hard days are less frequent. I've learned to slow down and appreciate the smaller things in life. I slowly took my voice back. I filed a report with the State of State for the GAL and she was investigated for misconduct. There are many days where I felt like a black cloud was following me. I promise there is green grass and blue skies on the other side of that hill so just keep pushing forward.

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  • Taking ‘time for yourself’ does not always mean spending the day at the spa. Mental health may also mean it is ok to set boundaries, to recognize your emotions, to prioritize sleep, to find peace in being still. I hope you take time for yourself today, in the way you need it most.

    Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇮🇹

    Heal to me would it be trust someone again without fear

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    SR

    The first time someone raped me, I was fourteen. Summer before high school. I didn’t know what rape was. I didn’t have a word for what happened. I didn’t know it was wrong, even though it felt terrifying and ugly and dirty. I figured it was just me. Turns out when things like this go unaddressed, we’re at higher risks of repeating the trauma. That’s what ended up happening to me in different ways. I hated myself. I struggled with eating disorders. I felt inherently poison. I don’t remember a lot because the majority of my thoughts were consumed by pain, and wondering if anyone cared. It didn’t feel like anyone did; in fact, all my trauma responses (before I knew them as such) were blamed on me being difficult. Ten years later, I realized and disclosed the impact rape had on my entire understanding of myself and the difficult roads I had traveled. And so I began a long healing journey. A few years after that, it happened again. Turns out old trauma responses die hard. The difference was that this time, I knew what happened. I had words for it. It was brutal, but I fought for myself and became the advocate I needed as a kid. I didn’t abandon her, the terrified girl battered in a dark room. I stayed. I was exhausted, I grieved, I did it all. But I stayed. Three years have passed. While the DA couldn’t prosecute, I found a lawyer willing to take my case as a civil case on contingency. I can’t say that was easy, or that any part of the process felt fair. But again—I stayed. What I think most about in my healing is that living freely is a luxury even though it shouldn’t be. I think about the chains that tie us up over time, the intersections of violence and our identities, of feeling in my body or out of it, what feels safe for my presence, how I can grow into that so I can enjoy pieces of life I’ve cut off out of fear for their being an opening for more harm. I’m still healing. Aren’t we all? And what I’ve decided is that healing lives not only in what you reclaim but how you reclaim it. Wholeness is what we deserve. Every one of us. Including me. Including you.

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  • “You are not broken; you are not disgusting or unworthy; you are not unlovable; you are wonderful, strong, and worthy.”

    Story
    From a survivor
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    Sexual Abuse in the Academe

    Sexual Abuse in the Academe: Experiencing sexual abuse early in my life by teachers at school, one in primary school and the other in high school, made me think there would be no safe zone for sexual abuse. I became extremely vulnerable and imposed unbelievable restrictions on my relationships with others. Nevertheless, my most disgraceful institutional sexual abuse was on its way later in the academe. In my second year of the Ph.D. program in South Korea, Name Initials, a businessman and politician seeker, returned to college to pursue a master’s degree. He was in an intimate relationship with my adviser. Since my adviser and I were also close to each other, the three of us would go out for lunch or coffee together. Name Initials liked my intelligence and passion in my career and outspokenly pointed that out. Gradually, he brought his ambition and passion for life to my attention. About 20 years after graduation from college, he inevitably faced many challenges like a freshman-year student. Therefore, there were times when he asked me for academic assistance, particularly in writing an academic paper, collecting data in the library, and developing a theoretical framework for his study. One day, we were supposed to have dinner at a hotel restaurant a few days after my assistance in his writing assignment. On our way for dinner, however, he asked me if I wouldn’t mind going farther away to enjoy the quiet nature and good food. I accepted his offer, and he and I headed somewhere he only knew. It took us about an hour to get to the destination. It paid off, and we enjoyed the meal and conversation. On our way back to Seoul, he asked me if he could stop to smoke. He pulled over the car, rolled down the windows, and started smoking with my permission. He turned on the music without waiting for my reply, and we were quiet momentarily. Suddenly, I realized how much I had come along with so many ups and downs and how much I had longed to escape from the reality around me. He felt something was going on and touched my cheeks. He asked if I was crying. I did not reply. In just a few seconds, he put out the cigarette, rolled the windows, and turned off the light and music. That was the beginning of his sexual abuse of me. Since then, he has abused me for months on unavoidable occasions sexually. After Name Initials’s graduation, I received my doctoral degree in Date. My adviser asked me to visit Name Initials 2, a professor at a two-year college located on the outskirts of Seoul. Name Initials 2 welcomed me with warm greetings and a big smile and asked me to write the rest of his doctoral dissertation using the data and materials he would provide me. He promised to help me get a faculty position at his college in return for contributing to his dissertation. His first meeting ended in about thirty minutes, and he had me assigned to teach in his college. A few days later, Name Initials 2 corrected his previous words and convinced me he would finish his dissertation independently. He also promised to help me get a job at his college or from one of his close friends. He suggested shopping with me to buy a gift for me without any specific reason. I accepted his invitation, hoping to learn more about him and establish new academic contacts. During dinner, Name Initials 2 discussed position openings from his college and the detailed procedures from application to official employment. I applied for a position opening and became a promising candidate. One day, he suggested that I go out for dinner with him. After dinner, he offered me a ride home that evening when he forcefully attempted to kiss me, beginning Name Initials 2’s sexual abuse against me. Over the weekend, he would call me saying he wanted to discuss the follow-ups of the application. It was unclear that he would discuss what I needed to do in the hiring process. However, shortly after the frivolous gesture on my application status, he sexually abused me in any place. He also took me to a lodging area away from the big cities and took advantage of me sexually. My struggle to get my relationship with Name Initials 2 back on track was useless. At the end of that semester, it turned out that my application was unsuccessful. After a long struggle, I formed a non-profit, Non-Profit Name Link, in City, State, in 2014 to help other sexual abuse survivors with their journey to healing and empowerment.

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  • Welcome to NO MORE Silence, Speak Your Truth.

    This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.

    What feels like the right place to start today?
    Story
    From a survivor
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    I’m sorry, but I’m no longer here for you; I’m here for myself.

    Many times I've wondered how to begin narrating my story, whether I should start from the beginning or when "love had arrived." I could start by saying that I fell in love with the person I thought was my best friend. Wow, it’s supposed that when there’s a friendship of that magnitude, love should be great. Time passed, and years later, that friendship turned into a relationship, which, for my heart, was one of the most beautiful things that had ever happened to me. I flew 1,295 miles from my country to the United States for him, believing that finally, my true love story would become a reality. I knew he had a strong character and was a bit egocentric, something that bothered me, but I always tried to ignore those thoughts with the "sweet gestures" he could have with me. In the third year of our relationship, after discovering an online affair (they were only chatting because they were in different countries), he proposed to me. Shortly after we got married, we bought our first house together. Wow, if we weighed it all out, there were many wonderful moments that turned into sad endings because, according to him, I didn’t do something right, and many times I would repeat to myself, “I need to be better for myself and for him,” but for him, I was never good enough. Little by little, I started to fade. His words and actions took me to the darkest places—depression and anxiety. From there, it got even darker: a fight in the bathroom where he was the only one talking, and I had long ago decided to remain silent to avoid making the problem worse. I remember that night we were sitting on the bathroom floor arguing, and when it ended, we decided to leave the bathroom. I was walking behind him, continuing the argument, and that’s when he decided to push me, making me fall back several feet. I had never felt so vulnerable in my life. Among the physical pain I felt in my body, the pain in my soul was even stronger. He apologized and insisted that he thought I was coming after him to hit him. I insisted that I would be incapable of doing something like that, but once again, I was blamed. Shortly after, the problems in the relationship intensified, and there was more crying than laughing. I blamed the depression, but deep down, I knew it was everything that was happening there. I decided to seek professional help and started working with a psychiatrist. For more than a year, I was in therapy and on medication, and that’s when my awakening began. I’ll never forget the day my therapist said to me, "I want you to do an exercise that I know I shouldn’t ask of you." I forgot to mention that I earned my psychology degree in my home country. She continued, “We’re going to make a diagnosis, but it’s not for you. If I’m right, our therapy is going to change drastically because you’ll have only two options: divorce or couples therapy.” Although she didn’t say it, she was leaning more towards divorce. Her request was, "Let’s diagnose, based on observation, whether your husband is a narcissist. You’ve given me many examples that are raising red flags for me." She managed to get an interview with him, and in the end, we reached the diagnosis: I was married to a narcissist. I had been too ashamed to tell her that a week earlier, I was not only a victim of his physical aggression when he pushed me, but he had also pulled my hair. I had never felt so ashamed of myself until I had to talk about it with my therapist. Her only words were, “Run from there; there’s no turning back.” How grateful I am to her for those words. Today, almost a year after our legal divorce, although this path hasn’t been easy, I feel that I’ve become a much more resilient woman. No matter how difficult the situation is, no matter how much pain you may feel, love doesn’t have to be the excuse to push your limits. I knew for a long time that I needed to leave, and it’s not easy. Finding that strength is not easy, but today I can say that when your love for yourself grows every day, it’s that love that helps you move forward. Losing everything and losing myself to find myself has been the most beautiful experience life has given me. NO MORE. Only you have the power to break the cycle.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    #1140

    I am the partner of someone with diagnosed bipolar. He is 52. Diagnosed and treated since his 20s. We were together for 3 years this month and I have stood by and supported him for 3 years. It has been a very difficult and rocky road. He was stable for many, many years and then triggered possibly by the sudden death of his mother and forced into several med changes. He then lost 2 jobs after having the same one for 20 years, crashed his car when manic and had a terrible gambling episode. This all happened in 2023- To name just a few of the incidents…. After so much hard work, we thought he has finally "stable" - since fall of 2023- and then the unthinkable happened last week- he hit me in the face, punched a hole through my door and shattered a full length mirror. He had never been physical to me- ever. I waited a year after we met to introduce him to my 2 boys and then he become their everything, especially my youngest. They walked in minutes after I kicked him out to their mom battered, broken glass and a door punched through. They have never witnessed any violence in their lives and have a super stable home. That was 5 days ago and we are in total agony. Like grieving a sudden death. Having him hurt me is a line I never thought he could ever be capable of. He has tried to contact me, but I think he is still in an episode- his emails (I blocked him elsewhere) are about how agonizing this is for him and lack an even understanding of the pain my family is going through. We can barely keep our heads above water right now. He is the most loving, intuitive and empathetic human I have ever known- how can this be about him? Please help me with any insight. I am seeing my therapist- 3x this week already, and got medical attention....I am having no contact with him, but insight from those of you who have experienced would help so much. He is on a combo of seizure medicine and antipsych which we thought was working. seizure medicine for sleep and antipsych as a rescue. He’s never been hospitalized. I’ve let his family know what’s happening but they are 8 hours away and I don’t think doing much and he doesn’t really have anyone else locally but me. I am grieving so hard. I am heartbroken. He was the love of my life that I wasn’t even looking for. I was with someone from age 18-45- married for 20 of those years - had my 2 children with him. And I have more memories and feelings and love for this man of 3 years than for my ex husband. As hard as these 3 years have been, he was my second chance, my love. Met him by accident - wasn’t even looking. And the thought of all of us starting over (my children’s father rarely sees them- only on occasion). Well, it almost feels too much to bear. It hurts more than the hit to my face did. And that is really messing with me. I know I can’t go back. I know it will now happen again - I’m told by my therapist, I’m reading it everywhere. I don’t want to even model that to my kids. My youngest is devastated - said to me “it feels like he died in a car crash suddenly and we never got to say goodbye but he caused it on purpose”. They were best friends- the closest I’d ever seen my son get to anyone other than me or my other son. My older son I had to drop at college 6 hours away 1 day after it happened. And all he cares about is if I’m ok. That burden is so unfair. They are 19 and 15. And I’m so so angry at the same time. I can’t make sense of anything right now I guess…. I want so badly deep down to believe he was wronged as a child or that this mental illness is responsible, that he is capable of rehabilitation - and at the same time I am so angry that I went him arrested and exposed - I want him never to do this to me or anyone again. I’m drowning in my anxiety and thoughts

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
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    I believe in us.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Survivor

    If you are reading this please know you are not alone. When I was 15 years old and had just gotten back from eating disorder treatment, I was lonely, lost, and vulnerable. I had zero sexual experience, in fact I had never had my first kiss yet. One night I went to a small party, and drank a lot without knowing my limits because I had never drank before. Long story short, I blacked out and only remember bits and pieces of the night. Unfortunately I have a few memories that I can never forget. A completely sober boy came to the party and ended up taking advantage of me. I remember waking up the next day in pain and I found blood all over my shorts. I convinced myself I asked for that to happen and it was my fault. As much as it disgust me to say, I even felt somewhat special that anybody would even find me attractive enough to have sex with. I was confused and didn’t understand. A lot happened after that night and I ultimately felt like a used piece of trash that had already been thrown out. It took me awhile to understand what had really happened to me. I’ve been working on my healing journey for years since that night, but still find myself struggling constantly. I still sometimes question if maybe I’m just being dramatic and im the only one to blame for what happened. I know deep down that’s not true, but it’a a difficult thing to process. Honestly, I am angry. I’m angry that this boy has never and will never take accountability and that he gets to live a life without the trauma and pain I feel everyday. I feel heartbroken for myself and all other victims who have experienced SA. My ultimate goal in sharing my story is that at least one person can relate and feel less lonely. I want them to realize that what happened to them is not their fault and I believe them. I hope you all know how important you are.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    SR

    The first time someone raped me, I was fourteen. Summer before high school. I didn’t know what rape was. I didn’t have a word for what happened. I didn’t know it was wrong, even though it felt terrifying and ugly and dirty. I figured it was just me. Turns out when things like this go unaddressed, we’re at higher risks of repeating the trauma. That’s what ended up happening to me in different ways. I hated myself. I struggled with eating disorders. I felt inherently poison. I don’t remember a lot because the majority of my thoughts were consumed by pain, and wondering if anyone cared. It didn’t feel like anyone did; in fact, all my trauma responses (before I knew them as such) were blamed on me being difficult. Ten years later, I realized and disclosed the impact rape had on my entire understanding of myself and the difficult roads I had traveled. And so I began a long healing journey. A few years after that, it happened again. Turns out old trauma responses die hard. The difference was that this time, I knew what happened. I had words for it. It was brutal, but I fought for myself and became the advocate I needed as a kid. I didn’t abandon her, the terrified girl battered in a dark room. I stayed. I was exhausted, I grieved, I did it all. But I stayed. Three years have passed. While the DA couldn’t prosecute, I found a lawyer willing to take my case as a civil case on contingency. I can’t say that was easy, or that any part of the process felt fair. But again—I stayed. What I think most about in my healing is that living freely is a luxury even though it shouldn’t be. I think about the chains that tie us up over time, the intersections of violence and our identities, of feeling in my body or out of it, what feels safe for my presence, how I can grow into that so I can enjoy pieces of life I’ve cut off out of fear for their being an opening for more harm. I’m still healing. Aren’t we all? And what I’ve decided is that healing lives not only in what you reclaim but how you reclaim it. Wholeness is what we deserve. Every one of us. Including me. Including you.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Username

    YouTube Link YouTube Link

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  • You are surviving and that is enough.

    “I have learned to abound in the joy of the small things...and God, the kindness of people. Strangers, teachers, friends. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but there is good in the world, and this gives me hope too.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    From Survival to Safety

    Hello, Name, and I am a domestic violence survivor reaching out in hopes of sharing my story to raise awareness and help protect other women and children. After enduring severe domestic violence, and my kids and I being kidnapped ..  I finally saw justice when the defendant in my case was found guilty and sentenced to 60 years in prison. While that conviction brought accountability, it did not end the impact of the abuse on my life or on my children’s lives. The violence we survived changed everything. My children witnessed trauma no child should ever experience, and we were forced to leave our home and everything familiar to start over in order to stay safe. The aftermath of abuse has affected our emotional well-being, stability, and ability to rebuild a sense of normalcy. I am sharing my story not for sympathy, but to bring awareness to the realities of domestic violence—especially how it affects children long after the court cases end. Survivors often escape with nothing, and rebuilding requires support, safety, and resources. Link If you are interested, I am willing to speak openly and honestly about what we endured, the legal process, and what life looks like after survival. My hope is that by telling our story, we can help save lives and bring awareness to the importance of protecting women and children. Thank you for your time and for the work you do in bringing important stories to light. Link Sincerely, NamecontactDomestic Violence Survivor

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  • “It can be really difficult to ask for help when you are struggling. Healing is a huge weight to bear, but you do not need to bear it on your own.”

    If you are reading this, you have survived 100% of your worst days. You’re doing great.

    “I really hope sharing my story will help others in one way or another and I can certainly say that it will help me be more open with my story.”

    We all have the ability to be allies and support the survivors in our lives.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Name Story

    I just wanted to share that after leaving a domestic violence relationship, there is hope for healing and a healthy relationship. I had to learn to love myself again and find my happiness. I truly wanted to give up multiple times through my journey as I could not see a happy end to it but I am forever grateful that I kept pushing forward. I hope my story can reach one person going through the same thing and let her or him know there is hope. My ex husband verbally abused me for years and when the verbal abuse stopped working it turned physical. Anytime he would physically abuse me he would take away all means for me to seek help (ie cell phone, car keys etc) and I would not be able to get away until the next day. Following the abuse he would deprive me of sleep that same night so I was always be physically and mentally drained the following day. I tried to go to the police department multiple times the day after these incidents happened and they would tell me there was nothing they could do unless if I made contact when it was happening. I was baffled with the lack of support. My daughter would witness some of his events but was too scared to call anyone because she was afraid of retribution from her dad. No child should ever have to witness a parent abusing the other. She has had to be in counseling after the divorce because she felt guilt over not calling the cops and PTSD from witnessing his attacks on me. I finally got the courage to leave when he started to threaten to kill me and himself. Law enforcement again said that there was nothing that they could do during this time. We went to court and I thought I would finally get my chance to be heard and I was very wrong. The courts hired a guardian ad litem (GAL) to represent my daughter. I explained the abuse to her and she stated that she no longer cared about the abuse on me because I have removed myself from the situation by moving out. She also told my 10 year old daughter at the time that she needed to forget about it as well and start over fresh. She also said to my daughter to not be listening to me which made my daughter felt like she did not have a voice. My ex husband charmed the GAL into thinking that I filled my daughter's head with all of the abuse and negative talk about him and the GAL threatened to send me in for a mental evaluation. She also threatened to take custody from me. This was all because I was fighting so hard for someone just to listen to me. I had even provided professional witnesses that the GAL refused to contact. I've never felt so down and so voiceless in my life. This is when I decided I was going to fight harder and not give up. I volunteered to go talk to whoever they wanted me to talk to as long as my soon to be ex husband had to have the same evaluation. The judge ordered us to family and individual counseling. Within the first month of counseling the counselor diagnosed him as a narcissistic psychopath and me as having PTSD from domestic violence. She also recommended extensive counseling for our daughter as she was depressed and had severe anxiety. It was freeing to feel validated but the fight was far from over. The second he was diagnosed by the counselor, my ex husband stopped cooperating in counseling even though it was court ordered. I had to file months of contempt court motions and was forced to find a new counselor because he claimed that one was biased. The second counselor diagnosed him with the same thing. I was recommended by the first counselor to bring all of my proof to the police department and try to file charges against him. I had 24 months from the last attack to file a police report. I met one officer that had the kindest soul and was married to a domestic abuse survivor. He stated that State law so infuriating. He informed me that the prosecutor most likely won't even take my case since I've moved out and away from the situation. He did sincerely apologize and he listened to me. He sat down with me and let me tell him my whole story. He told me that he went through all of this with his now wife and it is so frustrating. He also shook my boyfriend's now husband's hand that came up there with me for support. That was the one law enforcement officer that listened to me out of many interactions but he made the biggest impact on my life. I have now been married for 3 years. I still struggle with certain triggers but they are less often. My husband is aware of them and is so patient with me. I had to retrain my brain to not be in constant flight or fight constantly. Some days are harder than others but the hard days are less frequent. I've learned to slow down and appreciate the smaller things in life. I slowly took my voice back. I filed a report with the State of State for the GAL and she was investigated for misconduct. There are many days where I felt like a black cloud was following me. I promise there is green grass and blue skies on the other side of that hill so just keep pushing forward.

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  • Taking ‘time for yourself’ does not always mean spending the day at the spa. Mental health may also mean it is ok to set boundaries, to recognize your emotions, to prioritize sleep, to find peace in being still. I hope you take time for yourself today, in the way you need it most.

    “You are not broken; you are not disgusting or unworthy; you are not unlovable; you are wonderful, strong, and worthy.”

    Story
    From a survivor
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    Our Stories Have Power

    I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world. He was romantic, smart, funny, loving, kind, everything I had ever wanted in a guy. When things started to shift, I deeply believed it was my responsibility as his girlfriend to comfort him, take care of him, fix him. But as the breakdowns became more consistent, as he became more violent, as the words grew heavier and more hurtful, I was left feeling drained. My belief that I was supposed to stick by his side no matter what, that love was forgiving and forgetting, destroyed me. He was broken, and it was selfish to leave him. He didn’t mean it, he apologized eventually, he comforted me when he hurt me, so it was okay. But if I could go back in time, I’d scream “leave now, save yourself.” Because these excuses I was making were just that. Excuses. It was not normal. It was not okay. No excuses could be made to make his behavior normal. I just want everyone out there to know that it is not your fault. You are not weak. You are not stupid for not seeing it sooner. You were in love with someone who only showed you a small aspect of themselves, and then revealed the rest when you were already in too deep. One time is enough. It wasn’t an accident the first time, and it won’t be an accident the next. The recovery process is hard. But it’s so worth it. And you are worth so much more than what he declares over you. Please know that you are not alone. I’m rooting for you and I know others are too.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Claire

    I awoke the morning of July 5th, year in a bed I don’t remember going to sleep in, next to a person I’d never even met. When someone violates your trust and your body they become a different person to you. Almost instantaneously. I had been in his bed with him before, but I really noticed it then. The voice I heard stung my ears, his laugh made me cringe. But it wasn’t that I knew right away what happened to me, and what he did was wrong. It was the fact I thought I made a mistake I had to live with forever. I thought it was a “misunderstanding”. The fact I didn’t say yes, I said no. I closed my legs. As I got up out of that bed, I have no memory until I was in my car driving home. When we talk about the combination of trauma brain and 27 28 probably at least six drinks in my system. All I wanted was a shower, maybe that would erase all of this. Maybe it was a mistake, people regret having sex all the time, not like this. I began to have panic attacks while I was alone or when his name came up. He later became very angry at me, and humiliated me. I was forced to engage in sex against my will. My very, very, stumbling, blurry, intoxicated will. I said no, why wasn’t that enough? Why was that the first time I did that with a man? Why did it feel like my heart was broken? Because my heart was broken. Trust violated, and I didn’t know how to tell anyone what happened. The person you used to call in these situations became the reason it happened. I never thought anyone would ever believe me. I also really didn’t identify it as anything other than a mistake, ick. The next day when I came home I proceeded to take off my American Eagle brand blue Jeans, White T-Shirt, and maroon-colored American Eagle sweater. I sat in the shower for an hour. Later that fall I found those clothes in the trunk of my car, that makes me think I remember even less than I do and that fucks with me. I donated that sweater about a year ago. I should have burned it. About two weeks before it happened, you told me that you were no longer attracted to me anymore. And that's fine. We were at a party. That party was for our friend, Name (Name is a story of another time), but I was intoxicated by the time you got to the party. I think I arrived at 4, and was too drunk to drive by 5pm. When you got to the party, I drunkenly told you how much I was attracted to you, and you rejected me. You told me that you were no longer attracted to me. In those words. But why would you then do this two weeks later, if you weren’t attracted to me, why sex? 29 The following spring, I had moved into an apartment with a few strangers, and that is when the memories started to really come back to me. Laying in bed one night, thinking about my experience, I casually G-O-O-G-L-E-D what is “non consensual oral sex”. The person that I am today cannot believe that I was in this much denial from all of this, that I had something done to my body and didn’t even know. When was it going to let me know? When this thought prompted, I knew I didn’t consent to what happened to me, but I didn’t want to admit that it was sexual assault. So what was I looking for? I wanted some middle-ground answer to pop up, an answer like, ‘you’re not wrong, but you weren’t sexually assaulted’ but there really is no in between. I acted as if my experience did not warrant the title of the experience of others that I thought might be “worse” than my situation. Non-consensual oral sex. What became of this fucked up search history that I’m sure someone somewhere can see what I”m looking up and say ‘damn, that’s fucked up’ what came up was R-A-P-E. I stared at the computer screen, started to shake and look over what sources and what people say, what the law and science says. That is an uncomfortable word. It doesn’t just come out, it is a dirty word that is said, and it doesn’t just come off the tongue, it sits there and lingers and anticipates the reaction you know is coming because the person you told also knows the person who harmed you. I looked at state law, by law, these dirty words I’d hate to make you uncomfortable to read, is rape. That was the most validation I had ever needed. I had issues with relationships after that. I had one bad memory from him, and all the other memories from him would shatter. This was unfortunately a common feeling for me because he attempted to rape me a few months back. Looking back, that was way worse than I ever imagined. Today I educate people that attempted rapes are almost as traumatic for your brain as the sexual assault. Your brain 30 recognizes the same thing, but in my mind, eventually my no was taken, so I had the power right? Why did he listen to me then? My body became uncomfortable in my own skin. I wanted a new body, one that had not been touched by yours, one that didn’t have your mouth on it, hands that did not touch yours, and gone through something, I'm sorry I can’t tell you everything because I don’t remember. You hear that? I don’t remember. I used to say, if someone that didn’t have my psyche came up to me and told me exactly what happened to me, happened to them, and then told me that they were unsure if the feelings they had in their own body, the only thing we truely own, the only thing we can truly love, I would say definitely it is sexual assault. I would probably be inquisitive to the fact that what they are telling me is in fact, sexual assault. I would tell myself that I didn’t consent, and that question would automatically be answered. But when it happens to yourself, you know that feeling. Again, the feeling of disgust, nothing has ever fit that feeing more and that was a fucked up comfort and validation that I had been looking for. Oh my god, someone else actually knows how I feel, it wasn’t just me, I am not completely and utterly alone with these thoughts. This was rape. If that word makes you uncomfortable, imagine how uncomfortable it makes me. It doesn’t slide off the tongue, it sits there and anticipates the reactions it knows is coming, because the person that you’re talking to also knows him. This person is also under the assumption you were still attracted to him, which is disgusting that you ever even took the time to entertain. Trauma is stored in the body. It’s unfortunately, and to me, accurately described as a rush of sharp energy that rages through my body, and makes me hypervigilant. Not only that, Every year, my body freaks out at the same time of year, every year my body freaks out with the warm weather. Around the time of year I met him, May or June. Unfortunately as this story continued, that became more and more relevant to my story and even morphed into other parts of 31 the year associated with him. Like we have fall time, attempted rape occurred. We have wintertime, a few days before christmas one year, attempted rape occurred. However, especially spring/summer time of year breaks me apart, and it has affected a lot of my physical relationships, and feeling of safety. I guess July 5th changed me. Changed me into the woman I am today, but I am happy to say the woman I am today helps others that need support and advocacy. Out of all this bad, all these years of feeling trapped, I am finally able to set some of myself free from what happened to me.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    A childhood filled with shame

    For a long time I hid behind the shame of what happened to me. It took a long time and some therapy before I was able to speak about my childhood. Growing up in a chaotic home due to parents that were addicts made it easy for me to be hurt. I always thought that somehow it was my fault. I don’t remember every part of what happened but the pieces that I can recall are unsettling. I have memories of an older cousin showing myself and two other cousins different parts of his body as a child. I knew it was wrong and from what I remember, most of it was being in a dark living room with the TV on and trying to hide from an adult seeing us. After some time I remember my female cousin who was the same age as me showing me how to masturbate and later on we engaged in oral sexual acts on various occasions. Her bother who was two years younger than me would touch me until I caved in to do things with him as well. I just remember feeling so scared that someone was going to find out. I can’t even recall how we learned how to do those things. I was embarrassed but also terrified of an adult finding out and us getting into trouble. I carried that shame with me forever and always felt like it was my fault since I was older than him. I wish I could recall all of the details and how it all started and ended. Later in life, I had a guy over to hook up with which I regret. After we had sex the first time I was done. I didn’t want to have unprotected sex but I didn’t stop him when he started up again. I just remembered feeling frozen and the sound of his breathing and his smell made me relive the experiences with my cousin. That was when I decided to talk to my therapist about what had happened. It took a while for me to understand that I had no reason to feel shame and that it was not my fault. I have worked on my healing process and I can understand it a lot better now as an adult.

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  • Message of Healing
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    Heal to me would it be trust someone again without fear

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    Sexual Abuse in the Academe

    Sexual Abuse in the Academe: Experiencing sexual abuse early in my life by teachers at school, one in primary school and the other in high school, made me think there would be no safe zone for sexual abuse. I became extremely vulnerable and imposed unbelievable restrictions on my relationships with others. Nevertheless, my most disgraceful institutional sexual abuse was on its way later in the academe. In my second year of the Ph.D. program in South Korea, Name Initials, a businessman and politician seeker, returned to college to pursue a master’s degree. He was in an intimate relationship with my adviser. Since my adviser and I were also close to each other, the three of us would go out for lunch or coffee together. Name Initials liked my intelligence and passion in my career and outspokenly pointed that out. Gradually, he brought his ambition and passion for life to my attention. About 20 years after graduation from college, he inevitably faced many challenges like a freshman-year student. Therefore, there were times when he asked me for academic assistance, particularly in writing an academic paper, collecting data in the library, and developing a theoretical framework for his study. One day, we were supposed to have dinner at a hotel restaurant a few days after my assistance in his writing assignment. On our way for dinner, however, he asked me if I wouldn’t mind going farther away to enjoy the quiet nature and good food. I accepted his offer, and he and I headed somewhere he only knew. It took us about an hour to get to the destination. It paid off, and we enjoyed the meal and conversation. On our way back to Seoul, he asked me if he could stop to smoke. He pulled over the car, rolled down the windows, and started smoking with my permission. He turned on the music without waiting for my reply, and we were quiet momentarily. Suddenly, I realized how much I had come along with so many ups and downs and how much I had longed to escape from the reality around me. He felt something was going on and touched my cheeks. He asked if I was crying. I did not reply. In just a few seconds, he put out the cigarette, rolled the windows, and turned off the light and music. That was the beginning of his sexual abuse of me. Since then, he has abused me for months on unavoidable occasions sexually. After Name Initials’s graduation, I received my doctoral degree in Date. My adviser asked me to visit Name Initials 2, a professor at a two-year college located on the outskirts of Seoul. Name Initials 2 welcomed me with warm greetings and a big smile and asked me to write the rest of his doctoral dissertation using the data and materials he would provide me. He promised to help me get a faculty position at his college in return for contributing to his dissertation. His first meeting ended in about thirty minutes, and he had me assigned to teach in his college. A few days later, Name Initials 2 corrected his previous words and convinced me he would finish his dissertation independently. He also promised to help me get a job at his college or from one of his close friends. He suggested shopping with me to buy a gift for me without any specific reason. I accepted his invitation, hoping to learn more about him and establish new academic contacts. During dinner, Name Initials 2 discussed position openings from his college and the detailed procedures from application to official employment. I applied for a position opening and became a promising candidate. One day, he suggested that I go out for dinner with him. After dinner, he offered me a ride home that evening when he forcefully attempted to kiss me, beginning Name Initials 2’s sexual abuse against me. Over the weekend, he would call me saying he wanted to discuss the follow-ups of the application. It was unclear that he would discuss what I needed to do in the hiring process. However, shortly after the frivolous gesture on my application status, he sexually abused me in any place. He also took me to a lodging area away from the big cities and took advantage of me sexually. My struggle to get my relationship with Name Initials 2 back on track was useless. At the end of that semester, it turned out that my application was unsuccessful. After a long struggle, I formed a non-profit, Non-Profit Name Link, in City, State, in 2014 to help other sexual abuse survivors with their journey to healing and empowerment.

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    Grounding activity

    Find a comfortable place to sit. Gently close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths - in through your nose (count to 3), out through your mouth (count of 3). Now open your eyes and look around you. Name the following out loud:

    5 – things you can see (you can look within the room and out of the window)

    4 – things you can feel (what is in front of you that you can touch?)

    3 – things you can hear

    2 – things you can smell

    1 – thing you like about yourself.

    Take a deep breath to end.

    From where you are sitting, look around for things that have a texture or are nice or interesting to look at.

    Hold an object in your hand and bring your full focus to it. Look at where shadows fall on parts of it or maybe where there are shapes that form within the object. Feel how heavy or light it is in your hand and what the surface texture feels like under your fingers (This can also be done with a pet if you have one).

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Ask yourself the following questions and answer them out loud:

    1. Where am I?

    2. What day of the week is today?

    3. What is today’s date?

    4. What is the current month?

    5. What is the current year?

    6. How old am I?

    7. What season is it?

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Put your right hand palm down on your left shoulder. Put your left hand palm down on your right shoulder. Choose a sentence that will strengthen you. For example: “I am powerful.” Say the sentence out loud first and pat your right hand on your left shoulder, then your left hand on your right shoulder.

    Alternate the patting. Do ten pats altogether, five on each side, each time repeating your sentences aloud.

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Cross your arms in front of you and draw them towards your chest. With your right hand, hold your left upper arm. With your left hand, hold your right upper arm. Squeeze gently, and pull your arms inwards. Hold the squeeze for a little while, finding the right amount of squeeze for you in this moment. Hold the tension and release. Then squeeze for a little while again and release. Stay like that for a moment.

    Take a deep breath to end.