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I was with my ex and I had just started some new tablets that made me sleepy. I tell my ex that I’m going to sleep and he continues to play his video game. I wake in a daze around an hour later and he is raping me and enjoying it. I react by making noises out of fear and wait for him to finish up the act , I just froze in fear. Once it was over I was mad he never got consent but he told me that he thought I wanted it. It’s been nearly a year and I’m still not over it

As an only child, I had no one to look up to really as a kid. But I always looked up to my Dad. Even though he was never really around due to work (although Mam worked more than he did and still found lots of time to spend with me), I still idolised him. He was my hero. He would always say 'Dads know everything - remember that', so lying to my dad (even little white lies) were pointless. Though when I hit 13 I began to realise he actually DID know everything. He knew what myself and my friends would talk about, he would know exactly where I was and who I was with without even needing to ask me, and I would always wonder why. In reality he had my phone tracked and could read all my messages. Now that I have been through the court system and he has been imprisoned for the abuse he inflicted upon me, I can confirm that he was in fact grooming me from the age of 13. About a month after my 18th Birthday, began the horrific 7.5 year abuse that I suffered. My Dad, masked for the first 2 years as a stranger, blackmailed me into performing sexual acts with strange men in our home - the one place I should've felt safe. When I finally realised it was him, I couldn't tell you how it then turned into just open ended abuse and rape from him. He would advertise us as a couple on hook up sites and in order to avoid physical beatings I would go along with it. I feared for my life so much that endless rapes and sexual assaults were easier - imagine that being the easiest choice - until you're in it, you just don't know how you'll react. I stopped going out, I gave up my hobbies, whilst in college I gave up my part time job - he controlled every single part of my life. And if I even let my "everything is rosey' mask slip even for a second, especially in front of my Mam, well it just doesn't bear thinking about. Fortunately for me, once Mam did find out, he was gone out of my life within 30 mins. Unfortunately, he went on to groom and abuse others after that. He was convicted, and is currently serving his prison sentence - but the fear of him stilll remains.

I was experimenting with my partner at the time, and he wanted to try new things. He pushed and pushed saying he wanted to try anal sex. I gave in and said that we could try but if I didn’t like it he had to stop. The second we started, I wanted to stop. I tried to push him and get his hands off my hips but he did not stop. I just lay there and cried until he finished. For years I thought it was my fault because I accepted it in the first place and said yes. But now I know it is not ok. And it was not my fault

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??

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.

One day I decided to go to the shopping centre to finish my essay for college. As I was typing away minding my own business, a man came up to me and grabbed my face and tried to kiss me. I was in shock, I didn't know what to do. I froze. In a busy shopping centre no one batted an eye. No one was helping me. Eventually he was pulled off me. But when I told my parents they just laughed at me as if it was nothing. For years I was convinced that it was nothing, that I was just being dramatic but I wasn't. I know now that what happened was a form of sexual assault. I think because sexual assault or rape is usually perceived through the media as one thing and not another. I always thought nothing happened to me but I was attacked in a public place that I felt safe in. Even before this through the years I have been slapped on the ass for no reason, cat called when I am out walking, sexual remarks made towards me, sexual comments passed my way. Again, to me this was minor but I know now as an adult that this is not just minor. I didn't ask for any of these things to happen to me. These things are not OK and I shouldn't nor should anyone else be normalising them just because its not what is precieved to be sexual assault. It is sexual assault and this needs to be said and reminded to people.

I was conditioned to think catcalling was a compliment, that if someone held your waist a little too long at work it was just cause "ahh they're just a bit touchy", that it's easier to just "go with it" than to say no and risk their response. It took me years to identify that no matter the degree of your experiences it still is never ok. We often get told sexual violence is one way but it isn't, it comes in many forms and sometimes you can't identify it at first - and that's ok. I am only recently coming to terms with the varying degrees of experiences I've had. I didn't want to say anything because I was made to believe I'd "rock the boat". Well some boats are meant to sink. Let's rebuild the boat so everyone can stay afloat, included and safe.

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.

I was assaulted for the second time in Month multiple times on the same night by the same person. He removed the condom without my consent. He had sex with me multiple times while I was barely conscious and he had gotten me extremely drunk. I hadn’t realised what had happened until we broke up. I am still struggling to get intimate with men since

So I was a woman who thought things like this don't happen to me, until it did. An old friend were meeting for coffee in his apartment, except it wasn't. When he locked the door behind us, I just knew, I told him over and over again I didn't want to have sex with him. He refused to listen, I went in to detachment and froze, all I remember was I got to get out alive, I bearly did. That was over 3 years ago, and I have become gray sexual, fear of sex, or intimacy. It does get better, it's like greif you learn to live with it and move on with it in your life. There is something you loose with out ever getting back. However hang on, talk to a support system, be kind to yourself and learn to love yourself for making it through what no one should have too, it does get better.

It's been 7 years almost to this day since I was raped. Seven years of denial, acceptance, denial again. Seven years of hiding how I am feeling from everyone I know and love because I feel like I should be 'over it' by now. Seven years of wanting so badly to talk about it, to share my story, to take away the guilt that I feel for something I was never guilty of. But always being too afraid. Too afraid of how I'll be seen. Too afraid of if I'll be judged. Too afraid of not being believed. But finally I am on the journey to understanding that for me talking is taking back my power, sharing is taking back control and connecting with people with this shared experience is giving so much power to our voices. Every healing journey is different, and I hope sharing mine will help someone else in theirs, because I know reading everyones experiences and sharing my own is extremely helpful for me. Xo In my third year of college I decided to go to Peru during the summer to volunteer in a home for children who had suffered through childhood SA and violence. I lived in this home for 6weeks and helped with daily activities, cleaning, afterschool fun etc. While there myself and my friend decided we would leave for a week or so to see Machu Picchu. We headed for Cusco and found a travel agency which offered a 5 day adventure trek to Machu Picchu which involved white water rafting, hiking and ziplining...every 22year olds dream trip. The trip started off amazing. Our local guide seemed so kind and interesting. He shared so much of his culture with us and our group was getting on amazingly. Then 3days into the trip we stopped in a small town with a bar. We all had dinner together and decided we would go out to the bar for a beer. We were all dancing salsa and having a good time. My friend and a few others decided to go home and I was left alone with our guide and some people from another group. I felt safe. I felt like we had all built a connection over the previous three days and a trust had been built. Our guide offered me a glass of beer from his bottle and told me he would teach me how to say cheers in Quechua. We shared a drink, chatted a bit and Then everything went black. From that moment on all I have are flashbacks. Nightmarish glimpses of what was happening to me, to my body, while I was helpless. The next morning I woke up in his bed with him next to me as he spun some story about him needing to protect me the night before because I got too drunk. And telling me how nothing had happened. I was groggy and confussed and sore and had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach but no real idea of what had happened or what was going on. I looked for my things and tried to get out of the room as quickly as possible....we had to leave for the next destination in 10minutes. As i left his room my friend found me, she was so worried but I still hadnt processed what had happened and I dont fully remember any of that morning. As the day went on the memories became stronger and the sinking feeling became more and more intense. I finally confided in my friend about what had happened. Thankfully she believed me, but the other girls in the group did not. I warned them to keep away from the guide but they said that it must have just been my imagination. We continued the two day trek. I acted as if nothing had happened. I even remembering trying to get the guides attention, not knowing how or what I was feeling. He ignored me. When we arrived back in Cusco we got the first possible bus back to Lima, back to the home, earlier than planned. A few weeks later I started final year of college and things finally began to sink in. Thats when the panic attacks began. The crossing the road if a man walked behind me. The need to be clean. The self isolation. Crying in the car, crying on the bus, crying at work, crying in college. Then soon after this I began to pretend. Pretend like I was fine and nothing had happened. I began to hide from it all, and in doing this hide who I am as well. Thankfully I am finally on the road to accepting my story and feel strong enough to share how I truly feel so that I can continue to heal. I can acknowlege when I feel down but also am beginning to feel true happiness again. I can think about what happened to me and share my story without being filled with a feeling of dread of how people will percieve me. I have accepted my story, and although I obviosuly still wish it hadnt happened, I am beginning to truly love the strong, resilient, empathetic person it has helped me become! xx

Number years since what happened to me. There has been so much pain and hurt. One of these men was constanty asking me to sleep with his friends but my answer was always no , never, not a chance , You see i found it so hard to accept what had happened because i had to much to drink . I do believe that something was put into my drink as i had no more to drink than what i normally would . I was a at party with these two people. I dont remember leaving the house but i do remember getting sick out of the taxi on the way home. Both of these animals took turns to have sex with me . I remember just lying there with no clothes on and been unable to move unable to fight them of . Both of them went outside and i remember the strong smell of cigarettes and could hear them both laughing . Shortly after both of them left and i lay there confussed , helpless and alone. I must have fallen asleep because i remember it was bright out and one of these men came back to the house. No accountability has been taken from either of these and this is what makes healing so hard for me. Im trying to take back my power but some days are just so hard. Both of these men took adavantage of my vunrability. Learning to tust myself and love myself is my main goal for now and knowing that i did nothing wrong,

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.

Sexual assault is a spectrum. I think as young women we laugh off so much - bring catcalled from 12 or 13, being groped in clubs, mocked for pushing a guy off who won’t keep his hands of you. I’m so glad there is this space to share our stories <3

A little over A number of years ago, when I was 19, I ended a numbermonth relationship with a man I had met in college. We had met during orientation, and he pursued me romantically very quickly. I was so delighted to be finally seen; I had never been in a relationship and no one had ever been interested in me before. Things moved very quickly, and in hindsight, it should have been a sign of what was to come. He kissed me suddenly one day when we hugged and I didn't turn him down. He was very pushy to progress things along faster than I felt ready for, but I convinced myself that I should be ready. Naively, I agreed to be in a relationship with him a week after meeting. Within a month, our relationship had become more sexual. He had forced his way to take my virginity when I just wanted some foreplay, but again, I didn't object and soothed myself that at least I didn't have a one-night-stand. Two months later, he wanted me to go on birth control when a condom and emergency contraception failed and I had an early miscarriage. He was particularly interested in me getting an implant. I didn't think it was a bad idea, as I didn't want to get pregnant again. Unfortunately, this enabled him to abuse me even more. The relationship turned violent as well as sexually abusive, and he wore me down psychologically, saying I was a terrible girlfriend and pointing out everything I was insecure about. He was very suspicious of my friendships with my male classmates (I was one of four women in a class of 40, I hadn't much choice) and accused me of emotional cheating and flirting with them when it wasn't true. Eventually, I had struck up a friendship with one of his friends he introduced me to from school, who I confided in that we weren't having a happy relationship. I didn't disclose any real detail during our conversations, but he was horrified by his verbal treatment of me and what my boyfriend said to him about me, and encouraged me to leave him gently over several months. I eventually did break up with him in a public space in order to try to be safe. Strangely, he was fine with it. He took his belongings from my apartment and left without any issue. The following day, he had already moved on to kissing another girl in a neighbouring college and ended up being in a relationship with her for many years - his insecurity about me cheating was a projection of his own behaviour. I ended up dating the friend who helped me to leave that relationship and we are now very happily engaged and cut ties from my ex completely, so I'm thankful we met despite the circumstances. Unfortunately, I never had any real evidence besides anecdotal to bring a case against him for what he did to me without my consent. Dates of those events are non-existent in my memory because I accepted it as being my duty as his girlfriend, and I remember very little now (possibly due to my brain wanting to forget the trauma) unless I get nightmares and flashbacks - there are a few moments that won't leave me. I am currently attending counselling and I'm so lucky to have a fiancé now who has always respected and loved me how anyone deserves to be treated, never been pushy for sex, and supported me so strongly when I disclosed to him fully about what happened in that relationship. I'm sad that my abuser walks free and I don't have any way to have justice, nor protect other women from him without facing defamation legal implications. It is hard to feel safe on my own if I am back in the same city where we went to college. I have seen him a few times in public, but thankfully he never saw me or didn't approach me. I have had some panic attacks out in public when this has occurred. I can only hope that maybe he has changed.

I was assaulted by a man, who was an acquaintance, in my apartment. We had hooked up once before, and it had been quick but fine. Things started consensually, but at one point it began to hurt me and I asked him if we could stop. At that point, he pushed down on my upper back, high enough that my mouth was half pushed into the pillow. I froze, and couldn't move at all. I just waited for him to finish whatever it was he wanted to do. The aftermath was extremely confusing. I first thought that it was just a bad experience. But as the months went on, I realised it was playing on my mind too much to be dismissed as that. Six months after the assault, I sought some medical tests. It was a year after, amid a particular run of sexual assault stories in the media, that I contacted rape crisis centre to get help. I also reported to the Gardai several years after my assault, and while they handled it well they also warned that if I was to pursue an investigation that the process could be very exposing and I chose not to take it further. My assault took place only six months after I had come out as queer, and so it felt like much of what I had worked hard to accept about myself and to go through as part of coming out was impacted -- the freedom to be who I was and to enjoy my sexuality was taken away for a long time. My assault was not the first time nor the last time I experienced non-consensual behaviour, although was by far the most serious and impactful occurrence.

I was in my late teens , growing up as the Queer girl in school, subjected to years of bullying and sitting my leaving cert when I decided one day not entirely sure why that it was time for me to learn how to drive , with this new goal in mind I went to speak to my dad about potentially starting lessons and getting a car when he told me I should get a part time job to build a good work ethic and pay for this myself , I thought this was fair and began searching, the stars all seemed to align when a local restaurant was hiring for part time weekend staff, I applied and was hired, I remember on my first day meeting 2 men who worked there a man in his early 30s I'll call James and one in his late teens a year or so older than me we can call bob , I was quiet and kept my head down for the first few weeks but eventually began to open up and become more comfortable with the other staff particularly Bob since we where a similar age and had some matching interests, Bob looked much older than he actually was since he had a scraggly beard , we exchanged social media and began chatting fairly regularly about work but soon about almost everything we talked alot over this period , I had 2 friends in the same school as Bob who where concerned about this due to Bob having a less than favoured reputation It was a few weeks later when Bob asked about pursuing a relationship, at first I was hesitant due to the fact we where coworkers but decided to give him a chance , I remember I would always feel a sense of dread before meeting with Bob despite not being entirely sure why I had 2 pet ferrets at the time who are usually incredibly friendly absolutely hate the guy , we had a few heated arguments surrounding boundaries and consent and it became relatively clear to me that he lacked understanding on what consent actually was but being a dumb teenager I thought that was something minor that could be worked on It was the summer when we went out drinking and went back to watch a movie and stay over , I remember watching a TV show and feeling quite unwell, I wasn't used to consuming alcohol and had a very low tolerance, I went to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet, when I returned I did not feel good at all I don't remember much for a while past this point but I remember feeling a strong pain in my lower abdomen I opened my eyes and as they adjusted to the light I realised I was naked from the waist down and Bob was on top of me , being under the influence of alot of alcohol I didn't fully grasp the situation and just tried to pull away I got to the top of the bed and held onto the bed frame I was mainly confused and in pain when I was dragged by my legs back down the bed , finally started to grasp the gravity of the situation I managed to whine "stop" no response , I don't remember much after this point but I do remember limping to the bathroom and immediately throwing up in the worst pain I have ever felt , this is the part that's clearest in my mind , not the act the aftermath of it , grabbing a shower head and spraying ice Cold water all over my thighs to wash off blood in tears but not making a sound beyond , it felt like an out of body experience I remember staggering back out of the bathroom in pure survival mode , This was over a year ago now and it it still affects my daily life , I have alot of self doubt and regret , I know deep down that its not my fault but for some reason it's incredibly hard to believe that whole heartedly , I feel like it carries a stigma when I meet people it's Easy to gauge whether they know or not based of their reaction to me and although I've had alot of support from my friends it still feels as if it'd be better if nobody knew , not a day goes by where I don't think about it , there are ups and downs If there was one thing I could change with the current education system it would be to please make consent a mandatory part of the sphe module and not just a brief touched on subject a genuine important part that's explored on depth by trained staff , I feel like it could save so many people so much heartache and trauma

You think your age makes you less to blame, But I carry the weight, I bear the shame. You crossed the line — no excuse to hide, No softer words can wash this tide. I’m not the one who should feel small, You built this cage, you made me fall. No matter your years, no matter your face, You took from me my safe, my space. But here I stand, I claim my voice, I break the chains, I make the choice. I won’t be silent, I won’t back down, I wear my courage like a crown. So hear me now, and hear me clear, Your actions caused this pain and fear. Age won’t protect what you have done— I am the survivor, I have won.

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 have been stalked by a professional for the past 7 years. One evening I agreed to meet up with him, as I was afraid of saying no to him. He made sexual advances towards me and I rejected him. He then set about using friends, associates, paid and willing accomplices, to harass and stalk me relentlessly for the past four years. I have been drugged and sexually assaulted in my own home, presumably so that he could share these images online with whoever pays to see them. I have now decided to speak out about my experiences redacted true story of being stalked against a backdrop of no stalking laws. Enough is enough. Women are not safe, and more needs to be done to protect us from predators. Name