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I was sexually abused by my father when I was 8 years old. Once I got a bit older I realized the damage that it was bringing to my life. At 15 I finally told my mom what my own father did to me. In my early 30s I began going to church faithfully and that’s when I finally forgave him. Fast forward to when I turned 35 I received a phone call that my dad had been arrested for something similar. And currently at the moment I am fighting for justice once more. Hoping that finally this can be put in the past.

I was in an abusive relationship for 12 years. I met him when I was fourteen and we came together when I was fifteen. He was nice and lovely and I fell in love with him. I never thought that he could have a dark side. After a few month I began to realize, that there is something inside him. When we had our first fight, he screamed with me and I had so much fear. He apologized and I forgived him. But: It didn‘t stopped. He was verbal abusive. He said that I am a whore. He made me feeling small and like I am the worst person in the world. He said, that I am a psycho. He said I am a joke. He said I am nothing. He said, that he has to talk and scream with me like this, because I don‘t understand his points otherwise. He began to destroy things like my watch or a necklace. The walls had holes and he often grabbed me at my shoulders very hard when he got angry. When I cried, he became angrier at all. I locked myself in the toilet because I had so much fear of him. He also pushed me at the asphalt when he was drunk sometimes. I had bruises. One time he choked me. I never told anybody what happend, because I always forgived him and felt so fucking guilty. I tried to left him, but he always said, that he will kill himself, when I go. I went to therapy but even there I was so ashamed, that I didn‘t talk about the abuse. After two years of therapy I got stronger and stronger. I was ready to talk to somebody about the things that happend to me and that I want to leave him. Suddenly I felt free and was ready to go. He always said, that he loves me and that I am the love of his life. It never was love. I realized that I was in an abusive relationship. There were verbal, emotional and physical abuse. I didn't imagine any of it. I wasn't crazy. Whoever is reading this and is in a similar situation: You are strong! You are intelligent! You are beautiful! You are a good person! You can trust yourself! You can talk to someone! You can do this! You can leave him! You are a wonderful human being! I love you all out there and send you hugs. We have to share our stories and we are allowed to share them. Together we can change something.

I believe that my ex-boyfriend, Name — a bodybuilder currently living in State — has been engaging in serious digital harassment, including hacking my devices, spoofing text messages, and attempting to make it appear that I sent messages I did not. I have also noticed individuals around me—such as neighbors or coworkers—acting in ways that seem coordinated, including color-coding, winking, and using specific terms like “widgets” when referring to my family. I have reported this situation to the police, but so far there has been insufficient evidence to link these incidents directly to him. If anyone else has experienced similar behavior from this person, please come forward and share your experience.

I want to share my experiences, as I have many times but never in print or where I can leave it for other survivors to read. I want you to know that you ARE better than the abuse you might be receiving. You ARE amazing. You ARE resilient and can absolutely do whatever you set your mind to. I was in an abusive relationship for 8 years. Of course the abuse started slowly, so slowly I could write it off as my fault or an accident. I lived with a friend at 21 and met the man who would eventually become my children's father. I remember telling my friend that he had shoved me on the bed, directly on my cat so I might hurt her too. I remember that friend telling me "He reminds me of my ex-husband, the one who broke my jaw for catching him cheating on me" and of course I didn't listen. Slowly the abuse got worse physically, mentally, emotionally. Eventually I started to fight back, not physically but would try to talk him down or just defend myself and he would rape me, as a point to show me who was still in control. I had out of body experiences- got knocked out by force- to wake up locked away in a hotel room with my keys gone and phone taken so I couldn't call for help. I loved him and couldn't bear to call the police on him- by this time I knew he was here illegally. I knew most of his family were here illegally. They would sit around the living room hearing me getting my ass handed to me and in the beginning I wondered why they wouldn't interfere- I later learned that if anyone interfered then my beating got worse because "you're cheating on me with HIM" or something similar. A couple years go by and most of my friends have moved on or were disgusted that I stayed with him- I was pretty good at hiding what was really going on because he loved hitting me where most people wouldn't see a bruise. I truly believed that I could help him, or fix him, because his childhood was rough growing up in the mountainous countryside of location and his father was abusive. Plus I knew that for the most part their women are brought up submissive, so it was all acceptable for a long time. I made excuses for him and he would cry to me and say "I know it's wrong but I can't help it, I watched it my whole life- watched my mother die because of my father." Plus he crossed the border when he was about 16 and was traumatized from that also. He just knew how to manipulate me and my emotions and for years I had no idea. I was attending college while pregnant at 25 and my classmates knew and tried to help me but I wasn't ready yet. Not until he hit me and split my eyebrow open with his fist when I was 6 months pregnant. My mom dragged me to the police station and wouldn't let me leave until I pressed charges against him. That was when she learned about my years of abuse- my family suspected but I was good at hiding it. It took me having my little girl - my saving grace, my reason for waking up back then- to learn I was better than the abuse I was getting. I realized that I didn't want her growing up in that kind of environment, never wanted her to think that any sort of abuse is okay or even remotely acceptable. That was when I started thinking about leaving him. That's when God shows up glaringly obvious to me then- he gets arrested. Finally I have one foot out the door. Then 2. Then I lose that apartment we were living in because I had been on HUD and he wasn't supposed to be there. I go back to my parents house with my 1 year old daughter. A year later I get pregnant once more by him. By this time I am self-medicating for depression/anxiety/PTSD and trying to fill that void left behind by him. He had introduced me to drugs and snorting pills during our relationship. I was struggling with answering/not answering the phone when he called and jumping when he asked for things. By all rights, my 2nd child should have been born with withdrawals and once again God showed up for me and my child. A month prior to her birth I went to church and without even knowing me that pastor spoke to my soul and him and his congregation healed my unborn child. Today my girls are age 1 &age 2years old and thriving. My little savior and miracle child. Their father was deported a few years ago and he stopped calling/checking in on our girls. They know what kind of person he was and how he treated me and they don't really want anything to do with him though they have attempted to reach him via FB because they want answers. They want to know why he doesn't try to call them anymore, why he hurt me. I have never wanted to be that parent who keeps their kids from the other parent. My mom struggles with that concept but honors it for them. I want my kids to decide whether they want him in their life or not though he seems to have made that choice for them. He has always been selfish. 18 years later I still struggle with my self worth, have struggled to stay clean. I am strong, I am resilient, I am a great mom. I love myself Most days. Most days I know my worth, though I have been in a relationship with someone I thought was perfect for me but now I struggle with whether or not this relationship is healthy.

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.

i want justin baldoni to know how proud dv people are of him. i can tell how much he cares and this movie he made has impacted him. my father is a very verbal and physical abuser and my mom left after 20 years and im forever grateful and im so glad they made this movie. thank you justin.

Once when I was 15 years old, my aunts husband had forced me to grab his penis and I had told my aunt which was when I had slept at her home cause I didn’t wanna be home alone and she thought it was a lie and that I wanted to leave with the boyfriend I had at the time and till this day had the whole family on her and his side

when I was 13, I got my first boyfriend. he was my first kiss. I have since found that I am a lesbian and it was extremely hard to break out of the heteronormative cycle I was in. my mom loved my first boyfriend, we had been in the same grade school class since we were 5 years old and she said that one day we would get married. I knew he had a crush on me the entire time and eventually, I grew curious. he kept asking me to kiss him and I was hesitant, but it got to the point where I just did it to make him stop. I guess he grew comfortable enough around me that he felt he could get away with anything around me. he would smack my bum a lot, which I thought was just playful so I did it back to him. he wanted more from me and groped my chest without asking. I felt so dirty when he did it. it felt like I had to grow up right in that moment. I pulled his hand away but I didn't stop kissing him, I felt like that was what he wanted so I gave it to him. I got so in my head about it that I distanced myself from him and severed our relationship. I tried to tell my mom but she dismissed my being upset with him being 'handsy'. she was so proud of our relationship that I think I was only doing it to make her happy. I still don’t understand what happened, and I'm 21 now. if a full-grown man did that to me it would be mortifying to others. but we were both kids and I haven't stopped thinking about it for years. is that sexual assault? I feel like it's my fault that I led him on like that. and that this isn't as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be. why do I feel this way? we were 13 and I still feel violated and ignored, it's been 7 years. why is this so hard to get over? I'm graduating college soon with a degree in criminal justice, I want to be a victim's advocate. maybe some other 13-year-old girl can tell her mom and she will know where to go to understand what happened to her. I want to be the person to help but I still don’t understand what happened to me. why am I like this?

My ex was a mechanic. I was having car trouble and he fixed my car. What initially attracted me to him was that he was hard working and he was very bold. The abuse began when I was about 5 or 6 months pregnant with our first child together. Initially it was only physical abuse, it later turned into verbal, emotional, and sexual abuse. When one of my children came to me and disclosed that he had been molesting them. I didn't love myself enough but my children mean the world to me. Leaving for my children was easy as I could not allow them to be hurt. I called law enforcement and he was arrested. This is what gave me the courage to speak up about the things that I had endured. I was abandoned by all of my friends and family after they expressed to me how they felt I was to blame and didn't feel sorry for me at all. I also blamed myself for not loving myself enough to leave. I was treated horribly and not viewed as a victim at all. It was very hard to navigate this trauma on my own. But I am still here by the grace of God.

We went to high school together, the prom, etc. My first love. 9 years after HS graduation we reconnected at a wedding and were married less than a year later. I liked our childhood connection, and how he liked to fix things. Everyone said it was “meant to be.” But there were many red flags. He abused me in every way. Mentally, by undermining my dreams and hopes (telling me I would never finish my degree). Financially, by spending money we didn't have, hiding major purchases from me, quitting jobs impulsively if he was ever “disrespected.” Physically, by spitting on me, shaking me, throwing me down on the floor. He lied to me, called me names, called me fat, threw away my cherished items then mocked me for picking through the garbage to find them. He also cheated on me and gave me an std then denied it saying I must have cheated on him when I hadn’t. He undermined my sense of reality. The tipping point was finding my 13 year old daughter's diary and reading about what she had heard and witnessed when I thought she was asleep. I couldn't raise her or her brothers around this anymore. The hardest thing was navigating custody. He had never once cared for our 3 children by himself–not even for an afternoon. He had connections in both police and social service agencies and was a former CPS worker so accusations of abuse never stuck to him. He dated and briefly married a lawyer so he had free and unlimited legal representation. He neglected our children, drank heavily (he is an alcoholic) and scared them many times with his rage and outbursts. Not being able to shield them from him was and remains the hardest part. My family is Catholic and takes marriage very seriously as do I. Right before I filed for divorce my mom was telling me how things weren't that bad. I told her that she could 1) either ask me to stop talking about my reality with her or 2) accept my reality–but that I would no longer accept her denial of my reality. She heard me, apologized, and has been fully supportive ever since. Please do not assume because someone is a social worker, calls himself an advocate, or a feminist, or even works as an advocate that he lives out these values in private. My ex was given an award by the police department for his work with homeless people the same week that he locked me outside of our house during a tornado (I had to ride it out in my car in the driveway). Obviously knowing that I'm not alone, that even though more than a decade has passed and that I'm very happily married to a kind and loving man, that this pain stays with me. On my children's birthdays I always struggle remembering how he abused me while I was in labor and recovering from childbirth. That is something very hard to share. Speak Your Truth allowed me to not be alone with those memories for the first time.

My Domestic Violence Abuse began when I was five years old and continued until this last May. In my first Foster Home, I would be locked in my room at night with a lock on the outside of the door. I would have to drink my own urine if thirsty out of a chitterling bucket. I had my meals in the basement and made to lean against the oven if disobedient. Being hit in the eye with a belt buckle for trying on her makeup was just the tip of the iceberg. The second Foster Home was just as bad. I begged the Social Worker not to send me there because even at the age of eight, I knew that the Father was a creep. But, of course, I was forced to live there anyway and by the age of ten, he raped me. Fast forward to 2012 when I met Name of Serial Killer. After dating him for two weeks, I told him that unfortunately, I didn’t think a Relationship would work because he idolized Name (another Serial Killer). He walked over to his drawer, pulled out a 357’ magnum, and asked me if I were ready to die. Fortunately, my Faith in God saved my life because instead of being terrified, I was angry and asked him if he had lost his mind and demanded that he get that gun out of my damn face!! The next time I saw him was on the News in handcuffs after Authorities found the bodies of the victims he murdered. This past May, I finally found the courage to leave my abuser after 8 years. He pulled out a gun on me and my two Autistic Adult Children. I was ugly, fat, deserved to not have Parents or a Family. My children were demons and retards. Although my children and I are finally in a Home after living in a Roach infested Hotel for four months, we’re suffering financially. Sleeping on deflated air mattresses and an old couch. I find myself wanting to contact my Abuser because at least when we were with him, we had nice clothes, furniture, and an abundance of food. I’m extremely depressed and confused right now.

Hi there, To anyone still in an abusive or toxic relationship, or healing from one like I am — I want you to know that you are strong enough to break free and to heal. It’s important to remember that none of this is your fault. You don’t have to go through this alone. Speak up, ask for help, and believe in yourself again. I was in an abusive relationship for 8.5 years, and it’s been 9 years since, the time it took me to realize that this isn’t something you have to face by yourself. I wish I could go back and tell my younger self this! Please don’t keep it a secret. People will listen, and you will find your way out and begin to heal. Don’t let anyone, including yourself, tell you otherwise. You deserve to be safe, happy, and free. ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

I Say No More Cause..... I am a mother of a 5 year old daughter. I was 23 when I had my daughter, left my mothers house and moved in with my daughters father. You know there is a saying "you will only know a men true colors once you live with them under the same roof", its absolutely true. My daughters father was a drug addict and he loved women. I used to get beaten up for asking questions for looking at his phone and especially when i use to find out the truth, that was it knowing about the truth should eat him up. He use to beat me while i had my daughter in my arms, he use to chock me till i have a black out, he use to take my head and bang it on the wall and fridge, he use to call me names , disrespect me and my family. He sold/pawned all my daughters jewelry to support his bad habits. I was so stupid cause i left him & went back around about 3 times. Do you know at one point he was saving my neighbors (female) picture on the phone , he use to chat to a lady that was married and bad mouth me to her. I was dark in my skin . I was so thin (I) use to fit in a size 26 jeans I still have scars on my body cause of the dirty, dis-respectable animal not even a women begin. As for his family they never kept me safe at all even when I spoke up.When he use to lift his hands for me I started doing the same to protect myself from digging my own grave, I had to stand up for myself cause nobody else was going to do it for me. The day I left my daughters father for good was the day he broke my nose he punched me in the face I was covered with blood, still lied to my family and said "I fell in the bathroom" but deep down I knew my family knew it was a lie. Today I still look in the mirror with a Crockett nose. I packed my daughters & my clothing called my father and went to my mum. It has been 2 and a half years since I am not with him, thanks to my mother I look an feel beautiful again. My parents & 2 sisters supported my daughter & I till I got a stable job. I am so glad that I walked away as soon as i seen blood on myself that was it. I TOLD MYSELF I HAD ENOUGH.... Date today am 28 married to such an amazing men that treats me like a queen never disrespected me or even tried to lift a finger on me, makes me feel beautiful , loved am truly blessed. My daughter does not have to see her mother getting beaten again. Oh yes am in a size 34 jeans now :-), it feels great. I say am blessed cause the men i married accepted me with my scars and a daughter. ''DONT BE AFRAID TO WALK AWAY"

I was 6 the first time I was raped. It went on for nearly a decade. The worst thing about incest Is there access that the perpetrator has to you. You can’t escape and so you are always living in terror. When I was 7, I was gang raped by a group of teenage boys. It was incredibly violent and terrifying. I remember sitting outside after I finally got myself untied. I was afraid to go home because I didn’t want my abuser to find out that his “property” has been used by someone else, but I couldn’t think of a single person to go to, so I didn’t tell anyone for another 30 years. At 8, I was molested by a neighbor. During these outside abuses, I was still being raped at home. That ended when I was 13. The next 3 years were some of my happiest years. I was finally not being abused! During that time, the PTSD caused me to develop a heart condition and an eating disorder but I felt free! That all changed when I was 16 and met my first boyfriend. He began sexually abusing me a few months into our relationship. He left on an LDS mission and spent the mission stalking me from a distance. I started dating another boy who was emotionally abusive. The next boyfriend would slap me and tell me how stupid I was. I just couldn’t get it right. Then I met my husband. I married him when I was 19 years old. He is kind and gentle with me and I felt like I had finally found safety… Then his brother started sexual harassing me. This happened for years. Eventually, he sexually assaulted me. I told my husband everyone it would happen. He never did anything to help me. I had been seeing my therapist for 13 years when he started acting flirtatious. He was getting a divorce from his wife who I later found out was a patient of his. I got out of that situation quick. I was in my 30s, attending graduate school to become a therapist when the next sexual assault happened. It was a family friend in his 60s. He told me one day that he was very sick and wanted me to stop by. I went to his house to check in and he locked me in his room and sexually assaulted me. Afterward, he threatened me with a lawsuit and threatened my husband’s career, as he knew my husband’s boss. I was so scared and felt like I needed a week of school to pull myself back together. I explained to my professors what had happened. One of them forwarded my email to the administration of the college who then tried to force me out. They told me: “since you got assaulted, we can no longer support you in our program.” Just a reminder, this was a graduate program to become a therapist! It was disguising that they would try to through me out, blaming me for the assault! When I tried to push back on their actions, they threatened me with layers from the university. In the end, I won and became a therapist. At this pointing in my life, I had experienced so much abuse, rape, violence, and trauma but I had held it together, becoming a mom, earning 3 college degrees, working many jobs and helping my husband run a business were started in the side. I didn’t realize that everything I had been through was going to hit me like a freight train. I was worrying at a hospital as a therapist, co-facilitating an IOP group when one of my clients decided they were going to kill me, the other clients in the group and themselves by committing a mass shooting. This client told someone of their plans and we were warned the morning it was to happen. I was forced by hospital administrators and police to stay in the office where the person would be coming for 2 hours. The person was located by SWAT a few blocks from the hospital with a stock pile of weapons. I kind of snapped after that. My body started giving out. My mental health issues got a lot worse. I could no longer function. I started seeing another therapist. She was so kind and loving toward me. I adored her and felt like I was starting to heal some of the wounds that had been festering for decades. She was the one to initiate physical contact. I’ve been afraid of being touched most of my life so when she started touching me, it was scary. It was very innocent, hugs or a pat on the arm. It started to feel reassuring and comforting. Then she started getting angry at me. I would mention texting a friend she didn’t want me talking to or talk about wanting to change my hairstyle. She would berate me for the rest of the session, making me feel like I was bad for saying the wrong thing. Then she would lovebomb me sitting the next session. It was intoxicating. This went on for years. It got to the point where she was always touching me. She would touch me even when I didn’t want her to touch me. It was incredibly inappropriate! When she would get mad at me, which was often, she would demand that I apologize profusely. She owned me. She broke me down to nothing. She isolated me from friends and family. I was so depressed and anxious and confused. I believed her, that I was trash. Last year, I became very sick and when I told her I would be going to a clinic to get help, she lost it. Filled with jealous rage, she lashed out at me. Something in me found the strength to walk away. It was one year ago this month that I saw her last. I feel as I am nothing. I currently am mostly bed bound, unable to leave the safety of my room, unable to interact with other humans, completely terrified to live a meaningful life. I am so scared. I wish I could say that I found my way and am healing but the truth is, I’ve experienced too much. I don’t know that I’m ever find myself again. Some wounds are too deep to heal. My body is falling apart. My mind is obliterated. I don’t know if there is hope. Thank you for reading my story. It means more to me than I can ever express.

Emotional and psychological abuse is abuse, even if it’s invisible to other people. I spent years ashamed of what was happening to me, thinking no one would believe me if I spoke up, because there were no visible scars. But I’m here to say, for anyone else going through this: You deserve more. Your kids deserve more. You deserve to be seen. You deserve to be heard. I will not be invisible anymore. I will not be quiet. We’re in this together. Sending love.💕

I was in a five year relationship with my daughters father he would beat me senseless choke me leave me with black eyes I got pregnant he would still hurt me once I had my daughter in year I left him I never got help or support from anyone because I kept quiet all this time I was scared or I thought no one was gonna believe me but now I’m happy I remarried had three beautiful daughters with my husband and I opened up to him and he supports me in everything he’s my rock I thank God that gave me strength to leave him

This happened back in 2023. I had met this guy through my sister because she had told me that he had seen my picture and had asked about me and wanted to talk to me. At the time I was living out of state, so we were talking and we got together a couple days later. During the time that I was living out of state I had to be on the phone with him 24/7 if he was home and I wasn't at work which should've been the first red flag, but the second red flag should've been when he didn't let me go out drinking with my parents on my 21st birthday and told me I had to be on video chat with him during my birthday party. A couple weeks after my birthday I moved back to my home state to be with him and things were going fine at first. But then things started progressively getting worse, the first job I got when I got back he also got a job there because he didn't trust me being alone. I couldn't go to my therapy appointments alone, I couldn't go to the store alone, I wasn't allowed to have friends but yet he was allowed to talk to other girls, I wasn't allowed to go to work alone when I got a new job even though it was an hour away from where we were living. It eventually got to the point where he had introduced me to a few of his friends over video chat and one night he had gotten drunk and accused me of cheating on him with one of his friends when I was in the other room making a Tik Tok video, we got in a fight and when I was trying to leave he grabbed ahold of my bag and shoved me into the bathtub. As I was trying to leave after that he took my phone and wouldn't give it back to me, he tried breaking it and was doing everything in his power to keep me from leaving the house. When I finally was able to leave and just go for a drive he was blowing my phone up trying to call me and when I went back to the house and decided to sleep on the couch until his mom got back from work he knew I was talking to a friend and he told me to choose between him and the friend. When I went into the bedroom to sleep for the night because I had given up with the fighting he took my phone while I was asleep and blocked that friend which I didn't realize until I left him 2 days later but the following day acted like nothing was wrong except wouldn't offer to buy me anything at the mall even though I was the one that drove us there and paid for gas to get there. When I finally got the courage to leave him it was because I had to go to work one day and as always he forced his way along. When we got to my work I was told that I wasn't needed that day which meant I was able to go home, the only issue with that was that I didn't have enough gas in my car to get home and not enough money to put gas in the car. So I called my mom and stepdad who live in another state and asked for help but told them what was happening and decided that day that I was done with everything. My mom told me that she would only help me if I left him which with the help of her I was able to. After I dropped him off I made my way to a safe location in town and locked my car waiting to be able to go get my stuff, while I was waiting he walked from his house to where I was parked and tried to get me to talk to him. After I finally left for good he was blowing my phone up calling and texting asking if I was seriously leaving.

I never knew what true love looked like, my father is a narcissistic abuser. My first ever relationship made me relive the horrors and traumas I endured growing up, I was 16. At 17 I met my ex-fiance and we were engaged by 18, she was also a narcissistic abuser who didn't show it until then very end. I thought at love hurt, no matter the price you had paid to be with someone. I’m now 24 have have been single for 3 years after multiple sexual assaults from 12-21 on top of those two abusive relationships. Now I know that love doesn't hurt because the love I show myself is the love I deserve from another human being. It gets better and I chose to end the abuse with me. Lily’s story has touched me in ways I never thought possible and has reminded me how strong I am to end the cycle with myself. Never again will I go through abuse at the hands of someone I love.

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.