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I was raped by a man I invited into my home after a night out nearly 6 years ago. We kissed at a club, briefly went to an afterparty and I invited him home. I don't remember everything but I knew I was uncomfortable when we got back to my house, he pushed me down onto the bed... It felt like a performance. The sexual activity started somewhat consentually (I was very drunk, possibly high) but was quite aggressive. My memory of how things stopped is hazy but I woke up multiple times in the night to being penetrated. I told him to stop and I tried to push him off. He seemed to enjoy my resistance. When I woke up again in the morning, he was still there... He initiated more sexual activity and I allowed it. I don't think I said much and he eventually left. He seemed embarrassed. I was sore and bleeding. I texted the friends I had been out to say I felt very uncomfortable about what had gone on between us. They said they hoped I was OK, they didn't call me and I was hurt. I didn't know how to describe what had happened and didn't feel like I could talk about it openly, so I left it. I felt confused especially because I'd let him do more in the morning. Date I was totally devastated. I was off work and spent the whole day crying. I knew I had been raped but it took me many years to accept it and more again to tell anyone. I told two friends and my therapist. I've yet to fully explore what happened with my therapist. It was not the first non-consentual sex I had experienced and it feels overwhelming to start to unpack it all. It's hard not to blame myself. It feels shameful / embarrassing to know I am (?) a multiple rape victim. It feels like it must be my fault. I'm feeling very angry at the moment - the UCD case, Sophie Brady, Ciara Mangan, Nikkita Hand and countless other sexual violence cases in the media. I want more men to speak about about sexual violence. I want things to change. I sometimes think about reporting what happened, I remember his first name and what school he went to. I don't want him to go prison, I want him to understand how he's impacted me. I'm terrified he doesn't know what he did was rape, I'm terrified he's hurt others. I'm scared there are many men out there like him. I admire the women (and men) who at report and advocate for others. I don't feel like I'm a 'proper' victim, because I invited these people into my home. Ironically, profession it's never the victim's fault and I believe it, BUT... I don't feel it.

I was 18. In college I was part of a ladies team on in college sports team. There were also male teams. There was a inter college tournament that our college was hosting for other male college teams within Ireland. We all had nights out planned and a 'play hard, play hard' attitude. It was great to be part of something - I genuinely loved playing and being part of the club. On one of the nights I was drinking and got to talking with a guy from another college mens team. It was fun and we ended up back at his hotel room, where we had consensual sex. After, I remember feeling groggy and then being suddenly awoken to all these lads barging in. They ripped the bed cover off us and I remember phone flashes going off. It was year so, not exactly amazing phones back them. Slagging of various types ensued but then I remember being held down. At least 2 different men. I remember saying no, please stop. Flashes in and out while I just stared at the corner of the bedside table, thinking how similar it was to the one in my parents room. Weird. I must have slept at some point because I woke up. I got dressed. I remembered nothing. Nothing but the sex with the lad I kissed. Naturally, the next morning is always awkward so I wanted to get out of there. Just as the hotel room door clicked shut I realised I had left my shoes. I knocked back and had to do so loudly as everyone was deep asleep. As I was doing that one of the other team members opened a door across the hall, he stared at me. I said sorry for waking him but I needed my shoes. He just said he was so sorry. I was confused, having no memory of what he was actually talking about, so I said I'm sorry I left my shoes. Eventually someone opened the door and I got my shoes. Leaving the hotel and walking to the nearest bus stop, I felt appropriately hung over but sore. Down there. I'd never been sore before. Guess we must have really gone for it, I thought. Fast forward to lockdown 3 during Covid, I began experiencing severe nightmares that weren't nightmares. The missing memories came back over 2/3 months and I realised that I had been rated multiple times. That my brain had protected me until now. My SA, unknowingly, had a huge impact on my formative years - I came out as bisexual just 2 years ago. I feel I would have had a very different 20's but I met a decent guy, stuck with him like glue and am now married with a child. Due to the memory block, I have no recourse. No sense of justice so I just hope those boys, now grown men, are better than they were.

I never realised I had to be wary of women, because I never expected one could take advantage of me. I had lots to drink and simply thought I had made a new friend. I was so drunk that I just went along with everything she suggested, even though I kept saying I had no interest in women. I still doubt myself and blame myself. I thought I was safe and never in my life expected a woman would sexually assault me. I feel nobody understands.

He was my boyfriend. We had just had sex and he wanted to go again. I said “no”, he said “but I want to”, and he did. Those words ring in my mind so clearly. It wasn’t violent or aggressive, but it felt like something broke in me then. I carried that with me for a long time, and still do. Part of my shame was that I didn’t leave. Months later, I confronted him about it and he was so angry and not open to hearing me. That is not how someone who loves you, cares for you, or respects you acts. That is not how someone who respects women acts. It took me a long time to see that. Years later, I am seeing someone who is kind and safe. He doesn’t know this story but he cares for me and wants me to feel safe regardless. He has never been angry or upset when I didn’t want to have sex, if I wanted to stop or pause or talk about it or if there was something I didn’t like or wasn’t comfortable with. He listens when I explain a boundary and is always open to changing his behaviour to make me feel as comfortable and safe as possible. That is someone who cares, who inherently respects other people and wants to be a safe space. That is normal and the bare minimum. Abusers, perpetrators, and predators can warp your sense of reality but I promise you, people who are kind and good exist and there are so many more than you would think. You deserve to be treated with respect, kindness, and gentleness. That is never too much to ask for, that is the bare minimum.

What would you know? It's a question that was directed at me by someone who never considered that sexual violence could pertains to men as victims. This is what I know: What would I know? How do I even begin To talk aboit what I know About how I learned Too much, too soon Held in and on For far too long What do I know? I know that you never, ever, No matter how hot the water Or abrasive the cloth Will ever feel clean Even if you wipe until you bleed I know that your body My body, will never be your own My own That some part of it No matter the healing Will always remember Being forced to share itself But sharing is the wrong word Because sharing is given Not taken with force I want to say invasion But that sounds too Clinical Polluted, that's it You, I feel polluted. Its just in one small, dark corner now When it used to pervade Everything Every taste, every joke Every public shower And locker room Every smile, scalding touch And mention of intimacy But healing does that It shrinks the poisonous sludge Of memory Until there's almost none of it left And you, we, can live Not just survive But on certain days Anniversaries, birthdays On odd days when someone else Learns what it means to feel like you Me And we cry in the soft darkness Of our own beds Horribly alone yet never truly alone Because it never left They never leave. To take the finger from my lips I have learned to stop hating To understand their brokenness I am afraid of the dark and more afraid Of the light But only in giving voice to the feelings Can I shape them And in shaping them I give limits To the memories that created them And in doing so I take the shards Of who I was and might have been Putting pieces of me back together Alongside those I imagine into being The potential to be anyone I choose Has become the reality Of who I am What would I know? I know surviving is only an opportunity I know living is something else entirely I know that secrets are pervasive and corrosive I know that I carry fears within me And that gives me comfort because I will always be bigger than they are. And I know, I know, I know In my soul of soul of souls That I don't carry any of it alone anymore.

I was in my local pub, the landlady told me someone knew to the area was lonely so I asked him to play pool. We hung out a few times after that, one time walking home at the end of the night he took my hand I told him I had a boyfriend. Not long after I was out with my brothers and we met him, after a while they went home and then me and him were walking home, we lived very near each other in a small town so it was normal to walk together. I don't know who suggested walking through the playground which I'd done a million times with other people, but I remember he was kissing me and 3 times I said no and asked him to stop then I froze as I realised I didn't really know him and he could do anything to me, all I could think was let him do whatever he wanted to me as long as I survive and get home to my boyfriend. The next morning I woke up and went to the bathroom, I was bleeding from where he'd raped me anally and bruised where he'd held my arms down. I had love bites on my chest.I don't know how I got home. I started to drink more as I kept bumping into him and he kept asking me to go out with him. When I went to the place of work for work I'd bump into him on the street and need to run home and drink so I could calm down before going back to work. I rang support organisation, I was told not to tell my boyfriend as that would only upset him. 8 years later I went to rehab for alcoholism. It was that or suicide. I did meet up with him once more a few weeks after the assault as I needed to tell him what he'd done was not okay, he didn't care, said he didn't remember. I still feel angry and guilty for not reporting him but he's from another country and left my town many years ago so its not possible, I don't even know his last name. I just hope he hasn't done it to anyone else. I was also afraid that if I reported him that my boyfriend would leave me or that I wouldn't be believed because I was drinking with him. I wish when the landlady asked me to help him that I hadn't and never feel like I can trust my instincts since then.

All of my closest friends have been sexually assaulted in some kind of way, including myself. It breaks my heart, all I want to do is hug them and tell them it’s gonna be okay and it won’t happen again but I can’t guarantee that and it’s so scary.

After number years of living with the guilt, shame and denial of being raped I finally got the courage to begin speaking of it. The solitude,loneliness, and hypervigilance stayed.with me for many years. I sought help from the RCC who supported and guided me in what was to become a.new chapter in my life. Although I still meet challenges today, I'm confident to speak to and support many women and men who have or are currently experiencing sexual violence. I learned so much about myself during my time in the RCC and will be forever grateful that they were there at a time when I was ready to speak. Working with women now in same situations I see.the strength and resilience of many victim survivors who have had to tell their story over and over again just to feel safe. I feel privileged I have the capacity to work with these women in gaining control of their lives. For years I blamed myself and told myself it was my fault, but I now know it wasn't. I still get angry sometimes when I think I should have reported it but I was young and thought sure no one would believe me. I've never since allowed myself to ever trust a man again + I feel sad about that, but I've made peace with this and who knows maybe one day. I still have trust issues and fleeting thoughts of that night +others after it. I've learned that time is a healer and even though some memories are still raw, I can sit with it but not let it take over me. I have learned with great difficulty how to support myself in that moment. I believe education +information now will help many more to speak of their experiences without feeling judged or disbelieved. This is key when working with victim survivors.

I was sexually assaulted between the ages of 18 and 19 by my then-boyfriend. I remember when it first started, I didn't even think of it as sexual assault, only that I knew I didn't want to and always felt upset after it happened. There was one specific event that made me realise what I was experiencing was not normal. I remember repeating "no" to the point of almost yelling and trying to push him off me with all my strength. He had a grip of my jumper which ripped when I eventually broke free. I didn't know what to do, so I did nothing. I went to dinner with his family that evening and cried in the bathroom. To this day, I still haven't told anyone and I wonder if he even understands the gravity of what he had done.

I wrote this poem, while I was in the process of therapy. I was sexually assaulted after a night out. I had only turned 18 and I trusted this person to look after me. He was older age and a family friend. I hope this poem helps someone. You took what wasn’t yours to take You took it and I felt I gave it away I cried and I lied because I was scared I tried to speak up but there was nobody there My friends refused to believe it true As I lied to protect you… how cruel I pretended at the time, that everything was fine My mouth told a story my body knew was a lie I coped with food, drink and drugs You lived your life And I never could what you did has stuck with me for years It took me a while but maybe I am fixed Although it’s been 6 and I seem to be fixed My mind and body are still very mixed I now find time to speak about you Even though I wish I didn’t have to It brings up emotions I wish did not exist You took my power and gave me shame But now I am taking back what you took away It shouldn’t be me who feels disgust It should be you who pays for your crime. I took back my power I took back my life I now know so much more I wish did way before But I can’t change what has already been It was not my fault and I know now it wasn’t me.

I was assualted, sexual assualted by a man I trusted, who I looked up to. I was 21 at the time, modeling, doing shoots, stepping into the modeling industry. Little did I know how dark things would get. These women who would stand by these abusers. He groped me from behind and touched me sexually on a shoot. I froze, I couldn't say anything. Couldn't process what was happening. He drove me home, told me to play with myself and let him watch. I ignored his requested and he told me if his wife found out, she'd die from the stress (she was sick at the time) and it would be MY FAULT. I strongly believed this and held everything in for three months. I pushed everything to the back of my mind, denied it. Everywhere I looked I saw the make of his car, his name, thought he was following me. I eventually I had a breakdown, went to the guards. Who were absolutely useless and laughed at my five page statement. There was no evidence but my word against his. So he got models to read off scripts and tell the guards how I was in love with this man and "asked for it". Told everyone in the industry that I was "unstable" and how he feared for HIS life. As if I was the predator. The coward couldn't even come forward himself...turned everyone against me. Feeling so alone, I confided in my dance instructors who I really trusted. Only for them to be STILL working with this man to this day. I gave up fighting as no one around me believed me. Taking me 7 years to open up again about my trauma. Everyday it still effects me..seening his name everywhere on social media. People singing him praises, if only they knew... would they believe me?? Do I risk going through the trauma all over again??

Stuck in the bathroom. It is possible to be loved. When I spent ages telling my Mum and Dad that it would be ok to travel to city for a gig , I thought I was grown up and street wise. In reality I was a naive young man - my parents reluctantly agreed as long as we stayed with my friends uncle - this would mean we wouldn’t have to travel back late . The gig was fantastic - we got back to his flat the others went to bed. I stayed up chatting with name - after about half an hour he started asking me if I was a virgin and showing me pornographic magazines . I tried to get away and go to bed - he then attacked me and raped me . I locked myself in the bathroom and waited but he was still agitated - he wanted me to sleep in his bed - I had no idea that a man could do what he did to another male. Two weeks later I went back to stay again after a football match - this time I tried to persuade my parents that I shouldn’t go - but they didn’t want the ticket to go to waste - he attacked and raped me again - I eventually managed to lock myself in the bathroom . I mentally stayed in that bathroom for the next 40 years - never telling - never asking for support - 3 failed marriages - problems with drink - difficulties being a good parent. The first person I told after 40 years was my ex-wife - her response was “I can’t love you - you have violated me by keeping this a secret” - this was crushing and led to a decline to a very dark place. Now with the support of my children, my new partner , a fantastic psychiatrist and a therapist from support organisation - I feel better and believe I can be loved. It is never too late to start to heal .

They planned it, they watched it, they laughed about it, they joked about it and then they blamed me. Ridiculed me. Sang songs every day at work about raping me. Gaslit me insofar as I believed it wasn't real. It wasn't serious. It was not rape. But it was. They still protect him even though he's behind bars. I see them around town but they saw me deeper than I'll never know. They know things about my body, that night, my most vulnerable state, my unconscious state that I don’t remember. They know more of their first plan to have me raped which failed because I couldn't ‘be there’. They still think I didn't find out. But I did. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, to wake up everyday knowing that people planned your rape TWICE and they just walk around like nothing happened. What type of people live in this same town as me can POSTPONE a rape because I was going to be studying for my leaving cert that night? Who could do that? They can. They are guilty too. I made sure to tell them. There wasn't enough evidence to prosecute them for aiding a rape. But they have blood on their hands. People know who they really are! But I didn't have to tell them. Because they know what they did. They saw me deeper. But we all know them better now.

I was sexually assaulted while living abroad for college. I did not accept what had happened to me for some months and allowed my life to spin out of control. I am doing better for myself now and picking up the pieces after having accepted the reality. But I am finding it harder and harder to process and work though the thought of memories of the incident. It feels like im taking one step forward and two steps back. Luckily I have people who I confided in but I feel like asking to talk about it is too much to ask. I can still feel everything, it hurts in my body and I hate that this happened to me and I want so badly to move on.

I was inappropriately touched and groped by an older uncle. I have only disclosed this with 2 people. The uncle is my moms brother and our family (particularly his immediate family) have suffered horrible losses and deaths over the years and I just don’t want to add fuel to the fire. I feel like I don’t want to tell anyone and make it public so I am so so happy to have found this space. I know my mom would be fully supportive, my whole family would but I just can’t bring myself to say it. I’m 30 now and although the abuse never got far, it still happened. There are 2 occasions. This uncle in question also has been charged I am healing myself every day through mindful breathing, exercise and yoga but it is tough some days.

For 15 years we were together. Three kids. But he would have sex with me when I slept. Sometimes I would wake and pretend to be asleep, other times I’d wake in the morning, pyjamas pulled down sore and covered in his ejaculate. It was like what happened at night wasn’t real, even though I hated it. I hated sex with him because not, I feared bedtime, I’d occasionally convent to buy myself a few days knowing he would leave me alone. Until the day he did it while I was awake, when I said no, and that I didn’t want to he replied ‘but I want to’ and then he did. I froze, that one time is the one that 5 years later never leaves my head, I think of it every day. But I’m good now. I left him, I’ve a partner who understands and would never do anything like that. I’m happy. But the ptsd is always right there

We were friends. That is what I told him when he tried to kiss me when I was drunk. He smiled and said he understood. We were friends. That is what I told him when I agreed to sleep off the alcohol at his as he insisted it wasn't safe for me to walk home. I felt a sense of relief and comfort when he smiled and said he understood. We were friends. That was what was running through my mind in those seconds that felt like hours when I slowly awoke to his hands down my pants and his soft moaning. We were friends. That was what I screamed as I ran out of his flat. We were friends. That is what I repeated to our social circle that relentlessly placed blame on me for being to 'flirty' or 'leading him on.' We were friends. The realisation that took time to reconcile and fully conceptualise. My perception of the world now shaded with nefarious hues. We were friends. That is what I told myself when I began to enjoy life again. A fleeting moment overshadowed by a watchful eye and a sense of alert that never really leaves me. We were friends. That is what I told myself when I took on the shame that wasn't mine to bear and made me doubt what I knew happened to me. We were friends. That is what I told people when I began to share my experience. Every word feeling like a toss of a stone I had carried around for far too long. We were friends. That is where I find my empowerment. The deepest violation of trust and respect, and yet, I survived.

Hello, My name is Name & I would like to share one of my poems to (hopefully) be read at Event😊 This poem is called "He Didn't Hit Me" and it is based on my own personal experience with an abusive relationship. I hope that anyone reading this poem & it resonates with them will take comfort in knowing that they are not alone ❤️ He Didn't Hit Me He didn't hit me, but his words cut like a knife, He didn't hit me, but he upended my life. He didn't hit me, but he made false accusations, He didn't hit me, but he had unreasonable expectations. He didn't hit me, but destroyed my hopes & dreams, He didn't hit me but ripped my confidence at the seams. He didn't hit me, but I always had to take the blame, For his shortcomings, moods & his manipulative game. Abuse isn't just physical, this I know to be true, Gaslighting & manipulation are powerful tools, Knowing I deserve better, I am finally free, For I am much more than what he tried to make of me.

My first time was an assault. We were engaged. I had too much to drink. I felt so stupid for years because I'm a feminist, I should have known better. But nobody is immune from trusting a person who doesn't deserve to be trusted. I still carry this every day but I now have a partner who cares for me, and understands my trauma and my triggers. I'm doing better than ever and healing every day. I hope the same for all other survivors of intimate partner violence.

Betrayed When someone I trusted so much Took a part of me When I was living my best of life Breaking me beyond repair Forever changing me Altering me physically and mentally The pain I endured through the sleepless nights Linger even years later Indeed it has made me stronger person After years of struggle and perseverance But never would I want someone to walk in this path for strength