My (now ex-)boyfriend used to treat me like a piece of shit while claiming that he was “a feminist” and saying that he couldn’t stand women being treated in the way they are. He was always sharing feminist videos on his social media. We had an open relationship because he had asked me to (while he always was saying it was because I would not be able to have a closed relationship – aka slut-shaming me). When we were with our friends he made me look like I was the one bossing him around, him being innocent and this poor boy who was always behind me, doing whatever I wanted. He tried to get in bed with friends of mine, while I was in the same room. He raped me through coercion multiple times – including the first time we had “sex”-, he told me my English (which is not our first language) was bad, he told a friend of mine that he was only a 5% sexually satisfied with me. He was obsessed with anal sex and he always wanted to try it with me, when he very well knew I hated it and it hurt a lot for me. In a nutshell, he disturbed my sexual life to a point where I would start crying in the middle of doing it. Still now, sometimes, I can’t have sex with my couple because I can’t stop thinking of that. Never respected my boundaries, gaslighted me and treated me like I was ugly and stupid. Now I have a masters’ degree in Plant Biotechnology and I will start my PhD this year.
I was around 9 when my cousin groped and cornered me in my grandparents closet space during a game of ‘hide-and-seek’. My cousin was a year older and at the time I didn’t know that this was not normal. My cousin’s father found us and didn’t say anything about what he saw. I buried this right down inside me to a point where I forgot about it until I was 15 and groped on the street in a public place. This older man was running down the street and groped me first and another lady further down. My mother asked what was wrong (I had made a noise) and I started crying and pointing at the man, just before he groped the other woman, people around me stared and I instantly felt awkward and out of place. My mother travelled overseas that day and I was left at home with my dad and brother. I made a report with the police 2 weeks later because I didn’t want to go with my dad to the police station. Before my mum left at the airport my dad made a comment about “how I should be grateful that someone had an interest in me.” From there I was cornered again at a party by an older guy who started to touch me. I continued to be around him until it was time to leave with my family. It was 2 days later that I told my mum and we didn’t do anything. My boyfriend then dumped me because I was too afraid to be touched and was instantly triggered by these incidents. I received therapy that helped by I still tend to go on a downwards spiral. I put on weight thinking that no one would want to touch me then and constantly wore daggy clothes. I get nervous in crowds and hold my hands behind me (over my butt) when i walk in them. I’m 18 now and one small trigger could make me spiral into taking 2 weeks off school where I would spend it in bed. My mum told me that I had to stop calling these incidents ‘sexual assault’ because it’s not like I was raped or anything.
When I was 14 I was desperate for friends and lonely and thought that if I had a boyfriend or was pretty then I might have friends but I wasn’t and I didn’t. So I did what every lonely gen z teenager does and tried to find friends online. I found some but I found many many more who just wanted to see my boobs or my ass. I also found a guy that, on a post I made about being depressed and alone, dm’ed me how he would feel me up in my sleep. I also found my self in 2 emotionally abusive relationships. One was with a guy old enough to be my dad who sent me videos of little girls dancing cause he got off to it and he wanted me to as well. He made me feel gross and disgusting and suicidal but I couldn’t leave him because he was the only one who talked to me. The other relationship was with a guy that would pretend to rape me and then cry about he would never do it again and he was so sorry and I didn’t leave because I had been conditioned to go along with what other suggested and never say no. Another guy who was 18 told me he loved me but only texted me when he was horny or occasionally when I injured myself. I still feel sorry for the fact that I might have hurt them when I left and I’m still terrified that I might actually be the type of girl these guys wanted. A desperate slut that does get to say no and ok with being abused so she’s not alone because for a while that’s what I was. I still haven’t found the courage to report the pedophile because I’m afraid my parents will be ashamed and blame me and I feel guilty because by not reporting him I’m enabling his continued abuse.
The fact that we now have evidence of the very unpleasant side effects of hormonal contraceptives for women including depression, but there are no strides towards reducing these or pushing progress on the male version with hopefully fewer side effects…no, trials were stopped due to the same side effects, but for women it’s just normal…
I lost my virginity as an aftermath of rape. But I did nothing to report it or get justice. It was my mistake. I was 17. I thought that the guy was cute and smart and funny and sweet and friendly. I was the one that agreed to meet up after the festival we worked at together. I was the one who decided to wear shorts and a top at a hot summer night. I was the one who decided to have a drink that night. I was the one who didn’t have to go home that night. I was the one that loved movies and agreed to go to his place to watch both of ours favourite. I was the one who didn’t know how to say NO. I was the one who let herself be pushed on a couch. I was the one with clothing so easy to take off. I talked about it to a friend of mine. “At least you are not a virgin anymore!” was all she told me. So I stopped talking about it. I was told it had been a “win win” situation. I had won a first kiss taken by force. I had won microscopic wounds in my vagina and bleeding for three days. I had won a lost virginity. I had won trust issues. I had won distaste for my favourite film. I had won an STD. I had won changing the things I wear. I had won the paniced feeling everytime I go out with friends. I had won not wanting to talk to any of our mutual friends. I had won hating my feminen body. I had won false shame for having a vagina. I had won depression. What did he win? I do not know and I do not want to know.