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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.

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,

I was raised by a misogynistic narcissist so in my early 20s I thought my boyfriend's behavior was at least better than I was raised with. His behaviour spiralled over the years and there was gaslighting, financial abuse and finally rape. I didn't see the warning signs, sex would be very rough but I thought I enjoyed it. He had lost his job and had not worked for a year at 23, he used to smoke weed and stay up all night playing videogames. More than a few times I woke up to him masturbating so vigorously the bed would shake. One day I was sitting on the loo and I was in a bit of pain and I noticed semen in my knickers that I didn't know how it got there. I remember the ringing sound in my ears, but I decided to ignore it, I mean he couldn't possibly have. Then one night I woke up and he was rummaging in my pajama shorts and I realized he was penetrating me. I remember freezing in the dark and then calling his name. He said he wasn't doing anything, rolled over and went to sleep. I repressed this memory completely. I dumped him a few months later and thankfully moved on with my life. With my current partner (a wonderful man), we were having sex one night early in our relationship and the incident that happened with my ex hit me like a trolley and I had a flashback and a full body panic attack. I had to face what had happened to me then, I thought I was crazy and that no one would believe me, it's not your classic rape case. The incident tortured me mentally for about a year and thankfully I eventually sought help. I still think about revenge every day and am afraid to run into my ex in the city where I live. But we carry on. I am grateful to so many women who have shared their stories or managed to find justice when they report they were attacked in their sleep. We are a powerful bunch us ladies, and I am so thankful I could share my story here today. Bless you all xx

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.

To fight back or not to fight back now that is part of the question. Your damned if you don’t and damned if you do so what does one do? The rapist might want you to fight back to further his sense of excitement and heighten the thrill of the rape. But fighting back brings repercussions for the victim just as much as not fighting back. Nobody ever imagines that they are going to be raped or asks to be raped. Rape, as I have said before,” is the total violation, invasion and destruction of one person by another be they male or female”. In my 40’s I never dreamed in my darkest nightmares that I would be raped let alone raped in the place that I considered safe. My home the sanctuary we had created together to be happy in no matter what storms life brewed up on the outside. But the storm brewed and simmered on the inside and over time it escalated until I was raped despite having obtained a safety order. A safety order which was explained to him by the Gardai after yet another visit to the house by them. I didn’t fight back because like so many before me and after me in this same dreaded place or position I was filled with a massive fear of being beaten to death. But I did keep saying NO NO NO. You see without consent it was rape but the DPP decided there was insufficient evidence so the case never got to court. What was I to do eat or beat myself up because I had not fought back and gained bruises or worse? Nope, I did what everyone should do if they are subjected to rape. Get help. Yes, I sought and got help to rebuild my life until I got this strong to use my experience to empower others. To fight back or not to fight back is a purely personal instinct/choice at that precise moment in time. It’s a bit like fight or flight only with rape you can’t get away because you are pinned down. Those who say the victim (a word I hate) should fight back they need to close their eyes and imagine to the best of their ability the sheer terror of rape. And those who say a victim should lie still they should do the same thing because both parties must realise that there is no proper way to react to rape. Yes, we can lock our homes up against robbers but we can’t lock our vaginas up against rape unless we are anxious and the vagina stays tight. But like the robber breaking into a house, a rapist keeps on raping until full penetration is achieved. A rapist doesn’t care if they use the front or back door and I am not talking about the house doors. They don’t care if you are raped anally or vaginally and no you like me can’t have a choice. To fight back or not to fight back still is the question. Who can decide, who makes the choice? Damned if I can answer that one.To fight back or not to fight back now that is part of the question. Your damned if you don’t and damned if you do so what does one do? The rapist might want you to fight back to further his sense of excitement and heighten the thrill of the rape. But fighting back brings repercussions for the victim just as much as not fighting back. Nobody ever imagines that they are going to be raped or asks to be raped. Rape, as I have said before,” is the total violation, invasion and destruction of one person by another be they male or female”. In my 40’s I never dreamed in my darkest nightmares that I would be raped let alone raped in the place that I considered safe. My home the sanctuary we had created together to be happy in no matter what storms life brewed up on the outside. But the storm brewed and simmered on the inside and over time it escalated until I was raped despite having obtained a safety order. A safety order which was explained to him by the Gardai after yet another visit to the house by them. I didn’t fight back because like so many before me and after me in this same dreaded place or position I was filled with a massive fear of being beaten to death. But I did keep saying NO NO NO. You see without consent it was rape but the DPP decided there was insufficient evidence so the case never got to court. What was I to do eat or beat myself up because I had not fought back and gained bruises or worse? Nope, I did what everyone should do if they are subjected to rape. Get help. Yes, I sought and got help to rebuild my life until I got this strong to use my experience to empower others. To fight back or not to fight back is a purely personal instinct/choice at that precise moment in time. It’s a bit like fight or flight only with rape you can’t get away because you are pinned down. Those who say the victim (a word I hate) should fight back they need to close their eyes and imagine to the best of their ability the sheer terror of rape. And those who say a victim should lie still they should do the same thing because both parties must realise that there is no proper way to react to rape. Yes, we can lock our homes up against robbers but we can’t lock our vaginas up against rape unless we are anxious and the vagina stays tight. But like the robber breaking into a house, a rapist keeps on raping until full penetration is achieved. A rapist doesn’t care if they use the front or back door and I am not talking about the house doors. They don’t care if you are raped anally or vaginally and no you like me can’t have a choice. To fight back or not to fight back still is the question. Who can decide, who makes the choice? Damned if I can answer that one.To fight back or not to fight back now that is part of the question. Your damned if you don’t and damned if you do so what does one do? The rapist might want you to fight back to further his sense of excitement and heighten the thrill of the rape. But fighting back brings repercussions for the victim just as much as not fighting back. Nobody ever imagines that they are going to be raped or asks to be raped. Rape, as I have said before,” is the total violation, invasion and destruction of one person by another be they male or female”. In my 40’s I never dreamed in my darkest nightmares that I would be raped let alone raped in the place that I considered safe. My home the sanctuary we had created together to be happy in no matter what storms life brewed up on the outside. But the storm brewed and simmered on the inside and over time it escalated until I was raped despite having obtained a safety order. A safety order which was explained to him by the Gardai after yet another visit to the house by them. I didn’t fight back because like so many before me and after me in this same dreaded place or position I was filled with a massive fear of being beaten to death. But I did keep saying NO NO NO. You see without consent it was rape but the DPP decided there was insufficient evidence so the case never got to court. What was I to do eat or beat myself up because I had not fought back and gained bruises or worse? Nope, I did what everyone should do if they are subjected to rape. Get help. Yes, I sought and got help to rebuild my life until I got this strong to use my experience to empower others. To fight back or not to fight back is a purely personal instinct/choice at that precise moment in time. It’s a bit like fight or flight only with rape you can’t get away because you are pinned down. Those who say the victim (a word I hate) should fight back they need to close their eyes and imagine to the best of their ability the sheer terror of rape. And those who say a victim should lie still they should do the same thing because both parties must realise that there is no proper way to react to rape. Yes, we can lock our homes up against robbers but we can’t lock our vaginas up against rape unless we are anxious and the vagina stays tight. But like the robber breaking into a house, a rapist keeps on raping until full penetration is achieved. A rapist doesn’t care if they use the front or back door and I am not talking about the house doors. They don’t care if you are raped anally or vaginally and no you like me can’t have a choice. To fight back or not to fight back still is the question. Who can decide, who makes the choice? Damned if I can answer that one.To fight back or not to fight back now that is part of the question. Your damned if you don’t and damned if you do so what does one do? The rapist might want you to fight back to further his sense of excitement and heighten the thrill of the rape. But fighting back brings repercussions for the victim just as much as not fighting back. Nobody ever imagines that they are going to be raped or asks to be raped. Rape, as I have said before,” is the total violation, invasion and destruction of one person by another be they male or female”. In my 40’s I never dreamed in my darkest nightmares that I would be raped let alone raped in the place that I considered safe. My home the sanctuary we had created together to be happy in no matter what storms life brewed up on the outside. But the storm brewed and simmered on the inside and over time it escalated until I was raped despite having obtained a safety order. A safety order which was explained to him by the Gardai after yet another visit to the house by them. I didn’t fight back because like so many before me and after me in this same dreaded place or position I was filled with a massive fear of being beaten to death. But I did keep saying NO NO NO. You see without consent it was rape but the DPP decided there was insufficient evidence so the case never got to court. What was I to do eat or beat myself up because I had not fought back and gained bruises or worse? Nope, I did what everyone should do if they are subjected to rape. Get help. Yes, I sought and got help to rebuild my life until I got this strong to use my experience to empower others. To fight back or not to fight back is a purely personal instinct/choice at that precise moment in time. It’s a bit like fight or flight only with rape you can’t get away because you are pinned down. Those who say the victim (a word I hate) should fight back they need to close their eyes and imagine to the best of their ability the sheer terror of rape. And those who say a victim should lie still they should do the same thing because both parties must realise that there is no proper way to react to rape. Yes, we can lock our homes up against robbers but we can’t lock our vaginas up against rape unless we are anxious and the vagina stays tight. But like the robber breaking into a house, a rapist keeps on raping until full penetration is achieved. A rapist doesn’t care if they use the front or back door and I am not talking about the house doors. They don’t care if you are raped anally or vaginally and no you like me can’t have a choice. To fight back or not to fight back still is the question. Who can decide, who makes the choice? Damned if I can answer that one.Tofight back or not to fight back now that is part of the question. Your damned if you don’t and damned if you do so what does one do? The rapist might want you to fight back to further his sense of excitement and heighten the thrill of the rape. But fighting back brings repercussions for the victim just as much as not fighting back. Nobody ever imagines that they are going to be raped or asks to be raped. Rape, as I have said before,” is the total violation, invasion and destruction of one person by another be they male or female”. In my 40’s I never dreamed in my darkest nightmares that I would be raped let alone raped in the place that I considered safe. My home the sanctuary we had created together to be happy in no matter what storms life brewed up on the outside. But the storm brewed and simmered on the inside and over time it escalated until I was raped despite having obtained a safety order. A safety order which was explained to him by the Gardai after yet another visit to the house by them. I didn’t fight back because like so many before me and after me in this same dreaded place or position I was filled with a massive fear of being beaten to death. But I did keep saying NO NO NO. You see without consent it was rape but the DPP decided there was insufficient evidence so the case never got to court. What was I to do eat or beat myself up because I had not fought back and gained bruises or worse? Nope, I did what everyone should do if they are subjected to rape. Get help. Yes, I sought and got help to rebuild my life until I got this strong to use my experience to empower others. To fight back or not to fight back is a purely personal instinct/choice at that precise moment in time. It’s a bit like fight or flight only with rape you can’t get away because you are pinned down. Those who say the victim (a word I hate) should fight back they need to close their eyes and imagine to the best of their ability the sheer terror of rape. And those who say a victim should lie still they should do the same thing because both parties must realise that there is no proper way to react to rape. Yes, we can lock our homes up against robbers but we can’t lock our vaginas up against rape unless we are anxious and the vagina stays tight. But like the robber breaking into a house, a rapist keeps on raping until full penetration is achieved. A rapist doesn’t care if they use the front or back door and I am not talking about the house doors. They don’t care if you are raped anally or vaginally and no you like me can’t have a choice. To fight back or not to fight back still is the question. Who can decide, who makes the choice? Damned if I can answer that one. To fight back or not to fight back now that is part of the question. Your damned if you don’t and damned if you do so what does one do? The rapist might want you to fight back to further his sense of excitement and heighten the thrill of the rape. But fighting back brings repercussions for the victim just as much as not fighting back. Nobody ever imagines that they are going to be raped or asks to be raped. Rape, as I have said before,” is the total violation, invasion and destruction of one person by another be they male or female”. In my 40’s I never dreamed in my darkest nightmares that I would be raped let alone raped in the place that I considered safe. My home the sanctuary we had created together to be happy in no matter what storms life brewed up on the outside. But the storm brewed and simmered on the inside and over time it escalated until I was raped despite having obtained a safety order. A safety order which was explained to him by the Gardai after yet another visit to the house by them. I didn’t fight back because like so many before me and after me in this same dreaded place or position I was filled with a massive fear of being beaten to death. But I did keep saying NO NO NO. You see without consent it was rape but the DPP decided there was insufficient evidence so the case never got to court. What was I to do eat or beat myself up because I had not fought back and gained bruises or worse? Nope, I did what everyone should do if they are subjected to rape. Get help. Yes, I sought and got help to rebuild my life until I got this strong to use my experience to empower others. To fight back or not to fight back is a purely personal instinct/choice at that precise moment in time. It’s a bit like fight or flight only with rape you can’t get away because you are pinned down. Those who say the victim (a word I hate) should fight back they need to close their eyes and imagine to the best of their ability the sheer terror of rape. And those who say a victim should lie still they should do the same thing because both parties must realise that there is no proper way to react to rape. Yes, we can lock our homes up against robbers but we can’t lock our vaginas up against rape unless we are anxious and the vagina stays tight. But like the robber breaking into a house, a rapist keeps on raping until full penetration is achieved. A rapist doesn’t care if they use the front or back door and I am not talking about the house doors. They don’t care if you are raped anally or vaginally and no you like me can’t have a choice. To fight back or not to fight back still is the question. Who can decide, who makes the choice? Damned if I can answer that one.

I was a young waitress who didn't feel protected or safe. "The customer is always right" isn't true for someone who is harassing you, touching you without your consent or being a creep. I wish people stood up for me.

At the age of twenty-six I was raped by a stranger. It took me many years to name what had happened to me as rape. Although, distressed when it happened, I blocked it from my mind for a number of years before going to a therapist for support. I decided to attend therapy as I was struggling with a deep depression. I didn't attend a Rape Crisis Centre. It took me a number of years before I disclosed to my then therapist that I had been raped. I had buried what took place deep within myself and I had never disclosed to anyone what happened that night. The person who raped me was a friend of some friends of mine. I was away for the weekend and thankfully, I never saw him again. While my healing journey has been long. It has been deeply supportive and has allowed me to heal from many different issues within my childhood and to heal from sexual violence. I no longer carry guilt or shame for what took place that night and would encourage any man or woman who is a survivor or sexual violence to go to a therapist who specialises in sexual violence and allow an experienced professional to support you on your healing journey. I have no regrets and am grateful to a number of wonderful women who have supported me to heal from a deeply traumatic experience. Healing can and does happen. Don't give up on you, as I have never given up on me. I have learned that I like so many survivors of abuse am a very resilient woman. I live life today, from a very grounded place and although, I remember what happened to me in the rape I have emotionally healed from the hurt and the pain of that traumatic experience.

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.

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.

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.

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.

High Priest, You are not my superior Nor would I say equal The darkness overtook you? Abdication of responsibility - not good enough "Call to my house" You opened the door to naivety and trust Vulnerability at the worst You - only lust. In this now New Earth With the light streaming in I see your cowardice, your sin You took the phone off the hook Now, two decades later, to be disturbed The light won't let the dirt hide any longer Now I am stronger. I forgive you to set myself free You have played your part I am at peace, in my power and to reiterate, free.

Im sorry for being graphic i will try my best to keep it pg and I apologise for the length. I only really learned that I had been assaulted years after it happened and I had casually told a friend. I was in country on a year abroad. Me and a guy "friend" went into a bigger city for shopping. Once we got back to our town he invited me for a drink in his house. I saw nothing sinister about it. Until he started being very sexual and he took out his member and started playing with himself. I was very uncomfortable. He forced it into my mouth and it choked me. I was so scared I pushed him off and I ran out of his house. Didn't even bother taking my shopping bags. Bever spoke to him again. He didn't understand why I ignored him after that. I didn't really process it as oral rape until a friend years later told me it was. That happened in year. I had never understood why my depression started in country and i fell into drug addiction to cope. It was because of that. Still to this day i have trauma with giving oral sex to my partner. Thankfully he is very supportive. Another story of mine is I was good friends with a guy as his girlfriend was one of my best friends. In year they broke up for a short time and he came over to my house. I had been friends with him for 2 years at this stage. We watched a movie and it was fine. Until I said I was going to bed. He begged me to let him stay in the bed with me as he missed cuddling someone. I felt uncomfortable and in my gut I knew it wasn't right. I ignored it anyway thinking it was harmless. He proceeded to try it on with me and I told him no over and over as I was dating someone. I eventually gave up saying no as I knew it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't listen. He coerced me into it so I just let it happen. I felt awful about the whole thing and I confided in a friend. I didn't tell my other friend (the girlfriend) it happened as I just wanted to move on. They got back together. But after the whole thing I had a crisis admission to hospital to deal with with it. Fast forward 5 months later. The friend I confided in and told the girlfriend what happened and they both called me telling me I should go to the guards. I didn't want to. I wanted to move on. I didn't see a point as it wasn't forced rape. It was coercion. They eventually thought just because I didn't want to go to the guards that I was lying about the whole thing. It breaks my heart that she is still with him and tells everyone that I lied about it and that I will try and steal everyone's man. This is the thing about being a survivor of assault that everyone makes you think it was all in your head when you know it wasn't. No one else was there. He knows what he did and so do I. He even sent me a text a few weeks later after it happened apologising for what he did. I still keep the screenshot of the message just in case. Thank you for reading my stories. I want everyone to know that we will get through it. It makes us stronger people. And always stay true to yourself. We are survivors. Thank you for letting me share my story

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

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.

13 years ago, My Ex-Fiancé didn’t take no for an answer and raped me anally. All I could do was lie there in my own bed in my own home and allow him carry on. And even after that we stayed together for another 6 months, I have never told anyone the type of rape it was or how exactly it happened. The shame and fear of judgement is too overwhelming. I still feel disgusting from it. Lately the flashbacks are getting more frequent. I never reported him, I wish I had gone to a doctor at the time but didn’t. I have moved on but will never forget the feeling.

I was raped on the first date with the father of my number kids. I said no, several times, tried to push him off but he held me down and just did what he wanted and then behaved as if nothing had happened. I had gone on a first date with this man and he told me it would be a short cut across a place so I climbed the gate with him and he raped me in the place, on the concrete. I was age but this was in the 80s and we didnt have access to the internet or contraceptives or the information we have today and looking back, I was a very young, innocent girl. I was raised in a strict Catholic family. After the rape, he walked me back to my house and on the way he said to me, well you are going to be my girl. I was so grateful! I thought that after the rape that I was damaged goods and somehow I felt so grateful to him, my rapist, for still wanting me after that? It doesnt make sense now but looking back, I was in a state of shock, he behaved as if nothing had happened so I questioned myself because he behaved as if it had been perfectly normal and I felt that I was to blame because I climbed that gate to cross a dark deserted childrens playground with him! I felt that I should have known better! So then I was scared that I might be pregnant so kept seeing him and of course, he wanted sex when he wanted sex so I wasnt pregnant from the rape but was so scared that I might be, that I did stay with him and have sex with him and ended up pregnant. He is the father of my number children. I have never told them and never will. It took me over 60 years to tell someone!

I had a tough year, I had lost a parent, I had been cheated on, I had to end a very good friendship. That summer I was going to have a good time, and enjoy being young. After work one day, I sprung up the idea to go on a night out with my cousin who had a similar year to mine. We went out for drinks, the two of us going through the same motions of a night out, batting off creeps at the bar, dancing, having a good time. We met with one of her old school friends and his friend, and I took a liking to the friend. We all piled up in a taxi and went back to their place. We all had a couple more drinks, and my cousin and her school friend went upstairs, leaving me with the other friend. One thing lead to another and we went upstairs. Through the motions there were things that didn't feel right, and I tried to tell him to stop, that I was uncomfortable, that I didn't want to do that, but he didn't listen, he just kept going. When finally, it was over and I just felt frozen in time, more concerned for my cousin in the next room, and not about myself, being in a scary position. My phone had died and nobody had a charger for it, so I had to beg the guy who had just assaulted me to order a taxi, because I didn't know what part of town I was in at the time, but all I knew was that I had to get home, and fast. All I remember was my cousin getting annoyed at me for leaving, but I didn't care, I wanted to get home, I wanted to be safe. I remember the taxi driver, it was a woman who told me about her son living in locationand how humid it was that time of year. It mightn't have been much, but it was comforting in that moment. I remember the streetlights reflecting on the rows of houses in that suburb, which still haunt me any time I pass through that area, sending a shiver down my spine. She pulled up to my house, the sun was starting to come up, my dad left the porch light on. I undressed and took a shower. Still not processing what had happened, I wrote in my journal and tried to pass it off as a silly dating fail, but knowing at the back of my mind it wasn't okay. I couldn't sleep so I read a book and the following day, took my younger sibling out into town to get school supplies for the new year. Months passed, and I tried to tell a friend about what happened to me, but all they could say to me was: "Well, what do you expect, that's what happens when you hook up with random people" and I retreated into myself. After that point, I went a long time without telling people what happened until I was visiting another friend in a different city and I decided to go on a date with someone I matched with on an app. As I was about to board the metro to get to the date, I froze up, I panicked, I started to cry. My friend immediately asked what happened, if I was okay, and was there anything she could do to help. I couldn't say it was nothing, because it wasn't nothing. It was something that shook me to my core, made me think I was in the wrong for enjoying my sexuality. I didn't go on the date, but what I did do was tell my friend what had happened, and instead of being met with judgement, I was met with kindness, compassion, and love. We left the train station, picked up bits for a self-care night, and I was allowed to be myself in a space where I was believed and listened to. It took me a good while to feel comfortable in myself, how I looked, how I expressed myself, how I even was in relationships. If it weren't for the friend who made sure I was okay and I was safe, I mightn't be sharing my story right now. There are still times when I pass through that same neighborhood, hear that person's name, or even go pass the bar we met at, and a cold wave passes through me, but I'm proud of the work I have put in to not let it ruin my day, get me down, or define me.

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 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.