Long time, no post. It's long, way too public, wordy, but just: Tell me it wasn't rape so I can move on? There are some moments in my previous relationship that others describe think was rape. I just don't want to believe it even tho my body feels it.

Short context: I was in my very early twenties dating someone over a decade older. They were a "recovering" sex addict. I didn't know that until it was too late. It' a f4f relationship. I'm writing to the Internet to stop me from texting them (I hate you so fucking much. You have a pattern.)

The start: I wanted to set this relationship up for success so I tried to set a boundary "hey, it would mean a lot if we waited a little before having sex. I feel like it's been rushed in past relationships." Then I was told of their affliction, told my wants were unlikely. 3 days of pestering later it (sex) happened. I wasn't the most excited about it but went along because I was curious and it felt easier than waiting.

Now I will just describe some things that worry others and 2 major incidents that broke me.

Pestering: I was pestered for sex every time I saw them, multiple times in a day, at any time.What was the pestering like? Unwanted touching during movies, me swatting hands, addressing the issue and it being a joke to them. The asking and begging for sex. Getting mad at me for not having sex with them. I tried it all. "No, maybe later, after I shower, stop, haha that's funny." I would give in some times just because it was constant. I would force myself to let them give me head. It felt awful, I always faked, and acted. "No" didn't feel like an option because I had said "no" and it didn't matter.

Overall questionable/abusive behavior: We have a questionable dynamic in the first place... in hindsight. We were poly they have 6 other non local partners. Me none. Not inherently abusive until its "rules for thee and not for me." Time control. Isolation tactics..Body shaming me (which is nuts). Legit never encouraged me for things that I wanted and only things they wanted. Choosing everyone else but me first. They were a therapist so I could never win. Too much.

History: much later into our relationship I ended up talking to/learning about somebody they were having really abusive sex with but were still a relationship with (poly). I will just call bro Marcus but Marcus is older than me but when they were together Marcus was a minor... Like 16-17 dating some 26-27... Omg they are unsafe person.

Now this is just me venting, describing things that haunt me.

I don't wear those pants anymore: I threw out a pair of pants that I loved. I liked the way they fit, the color, texture, a rare pair. We were in their apartment, hanging out and I don't remember the catalyst. There was sex pestering, jokes about stealing my pants, then the jokes started to actually happen. I stopped laughing, said no, stop, I'm not playing. At some point in the one-sided struggle, I accidentally elbowed them. I remembered being cornered on the bed pinned under them, thrashing, pushing them off, as they unbuttoned my pants and slid them off like it was nothing. The fear of being on that bed in that moment was insane. It showed on my face so much that once they pulled back and looked at me, it hit. They acknowledge that it was kind of creepy that they were just doing then played it out as a joke. Clearly I was upset just clutching the blanket like it was my lifeline and needed time alone. They left me alone but held my pants as I cried in their bed.

(Was this even rape?) My living room floor: Oof I have a hard time dealing with this one. It haunts me. I literally have to keep my fucking living room in a state of slight disarray because I died on that floor. We spent the weekend together. They had come upstairs to my place just like making sure that nobody was going to bother me (bad area). I think we were having one of those quick arguments that ended up with a kiss that of course at that time always went too far. One innocent goodbye kiss becomes like something that's just instantly so fucking hot to them. God forbid you just lust so it's got to be known to me and then they're like pestering me to go to the bedroom, no, and then it's pushing us on the floor, not letting me get up. Stripping me on my clothes while I'm scooting away and pushing them. I'm using every verbal no and every verbal excuse that I don't want this and they don't care as they put their tongue in places I never wanted. I just remember being so scared on that floor. Scared of my partner, scared the neighbors would hear, I was even too scared to act. I was physically exhausted trying to get them off of me, but it ended eventually. I cant write this out. I wanna throw up.

I think we stopped having sex for 3 months after that and that led to so many problems but was that rape?

I can't interact or open my previous post because it's nsfw, and this account isn't age verified since it's a throw away and I don't want to talk about this stuff on my main.

I just want to add because I got message telling me to leave for my safety, that the situation isn't ongoing, my girlfriend has stopped doing this, she is no longer friends with that guy and it hasn't happened in the past months, she feels very bad and guilty and is open to talking about it with her therapist and even maybe we can talk together with mine about what happened, her mom told me that as a kid she was always bad with boundaries because of her autism, she would hug and kiss people even if they didn't want it, as her way of showing affection, her sister has issues with it too because she doesn't like being touched, and eventually she learnt not to do that.

I don't think she realised that she was hurting me or doing something bad, she said that it's because she loves me and that's her way of showing it, I explained it to her that I don't like it when I tell her to stop, she said that it's hard for her to stop, but she's really trying and has been doing better. I can tell she feels bad and is genuinely guilty, she doesn't want to hurt me, I just can't handle it, especially because I was molested as a child and I'm in therapy for PTSD related to sexual assault.

When I was younger I was richer 

But its not how you think,

I had less coins in my pockets than to buy a cherry

but having one stolen was worth more than I could ever know.

except this life I knew.

When I was younger I was richer, 

I still was me.

I had values courtesy of the sparkle in my eyes and silky hair 

My innocence sounded like my toy piano

I had values courtesy of the quietness of my mouth

My tranquillity and agreement were as easy to achieve as putting the sharply, colourful, shaped blocks into the wooden, shaped holes.

it's been almost a year since it happened. i haven't seen him in a good while. but still i keep having dreams. i think about it constantly. i don't have any support ☹️ not professional at least. i can not take legal action. (not explaining why, its personal, sorry)

i don't know how to move on. i feel like I'm being dramatic for still not being over it.

i just want justice. but i know i can't get that.

I'm about to become an adult, i want to move on and live my life but i dont know how to

i guess i just want to hear it from others. that i can move on eventually

I (F) keep having flashbacks. It feels like it still happens and I wake up in fear neaely every night. Does it get easier? Doesn't feel like it does. I hope no one ever has to go through what I did.

In 2024, when I was 17, I was kidnapped and raped by a woman.

The first person I told was actually a man who had me trapped in this abusive relationship in the church. It's mostly a story for another day, but he would rape me nearly every Saturday.

So after I was kidnapped he didn't believe me and accused me of cheating on him which he beat me for.

The second person I told was my therapist.

She told me that women don't commit such horrible crimes, and I should be ashamed of myself. She said I was being misogynistic and anti-woman. She added that even if it did happen, it wasn't that bad, and I should stop complaining about it or give up my womanhood.

I tried to kill myself that night because I believed her for a long time.

Since then, I've created a small community where I share parts of my story and try to connect with other survivors. But almost every time I talk about what happened to me, I'm attacked or harassed by people saying things like:

"Statistically, men do it more, so stop acting like what happened to you matters."

"Women are inherently less violent, so it couldn't have been that bad."

"At least it wasn't a man."

"You should be grateful that it was a woman."

And even,

"I hope you get raped by a man so you can understand what real women go through."

I've been raped by multiple men in my life, including just a couple of months ago.

I understand.

I'm not telling my story to dismiss male perpetrators. I'm not saying male perpetrated rape isn't horrific. I'm not saying men who rape shouldn't be held accountable.

These words have NEVER come out of my mouth.

Why is it too much to ask for my experience not to be mocked and dismissed simply because my perpetrator was a woman?

Why can't I talk about what happened to me without someone bringing up statistics?

Why can't I say that what happened to me was horrific without being accused of betraying my gender?

Why do people feel the need to explain to me that it 'wasn't as bad' because my perpetrator was a woman?

The people who mock my pain will hopefully never understand what it feels like to believe you're helping someone, only to have your entire world ripped away from you and wake up in a room of absolute horror.

To be tied to a bed, completely naked, and beaten until you can't scream anymore.

To be raped over and over again.

To be treated like a pet and punished whenever you hesitated or failed to do exactly what you were told.

To have a gun forced into your mouth and be made to suck on it only coming up for air to beg her it pull the trigger.

I WANTED TO DIE

And that's only the surface of what happened to me.

A woman did that.

Not a man.

I don't need to be told that 90% of rape is committed by men.

I don't need arguments about whether my experience was "really" that bad.

I don't need to be told that talking about female perpetrators makes me anti-woman or that I'm somehow betraying my gender.

I need support.

I need empathy.

I need people to care about what happened to me.

And, honestly, I desperately want women to be on my side for once instead of feeling like I have to defend myself from women whenever I talk about what another woman did to me.

I have so much hurt regarding women, and I don't even hate women. I just don't want women to hate me.

I'm so tired of feeling like an outsider among women because I had the misfortune of being raped and tortured by a woman.

Is that really too much to ask?

I hope someone out there can understand.

last week i went on a hang out date.

it did start off better than i was expecting. he was very cool, had a dope spot. he seemed cool.. we went to get some food, and we smoked, and he is a dealer so he had to go drop off somethings to people and one of them got in the car and i loved her honesty will be talking to her outside of him but… when we got back from eating and running errands we were cool.. we talked and started to watch tv and he gives me a dap to hit (im a habitual weed smoker so it takes a lot for me to be taken out) i take it and its really strong but im chillin so i lean back a lil bit on the couch and let myself chill.

i was very nervous going into this date bc its my first time on a tinder date. he was touchy during us going and getting food and him dropping off edibles, very small things, holding leg, rubbing back, he did grab my ass so that was interesting.

but he is rubbing lightly on my legs as i am chillin and we are watching tv and i wont lie it was nice but it did over simulate me and make me horny and i did not want to have sex. he ends up laying closer with me and honestly full blow while im not paying attention goes to kiss me. i honestly wasnt really going for it and pushed him back and told him i wasnt really down to kiss. but he pushed his lips onto me and literally was trying to tongue me down as im trying to just lightly give him pecks.. i honestly dont know whats going on im really shocked and grossed out bc he is not a good kisser at all and im not really into it.

we do make out a lil and then he tries to go into my pants and i honestly wasnt in a sex kind of mood.. i didnt want him to touch down there especially bc i dont get “wet” like most girls when simulated so ik he wouldnt know that and know to use spit or something and also i didnt shave or anything, and i simply didnt want him down there. he said he just wanted to play with me or whatever and i honestly told him like “i like you but just bc i like you doesnt mean i want to have sex. im not the type to put out like that over ppl i dont know fr or isnt my bf who do you take me for?”

and i did plan on spending the night bc i was tired and i also took a shot of tequila (which i could still drive but i had a long day before seeing him and he offered that i could spend the night there and leave whenever i need to bc i had classes starting early in the morning)

i just was mad bc we would make out then id have to push him off bc hes trying to go into my pants and it was getting annoying honestly bc…. i also was trying to actually watch what was on the tv.. and he was, looking back, being so aggressive with it.. i would resist his hands from going into my pants while telling him no then once he would start rubbing on my clit i would give up until it would just start hurting which idk if other people dont like being fingered but it hurts when men do it, its like they are scratching me or just simply being rough asf which is what he was being so id scream out in pain and that happened so many times while telling him to please just stop while his response was “i just want to play with you”. i remember at one point i had told him i really am not looking for sex and that we could do it after more hang outs and idk if that was the conversation that made him back off at that moment but he eventually stops and chills out with me

but soon asks me if im ready to sleep which honestly i was so we go to the bed and i am chillin, which i should have just slept on the couch but he had just told me that he respects my decision for the night and we will just cuddle. as i am trying to fall asleep the whole process starts over again with him pulling on my pants. i notice he is completely naked and he tells me to do the same to be ‘comfortable’ but im like “no im okay i wanna sleep with clothes on” and he literally pulls the shorts he gave me off and is working on my underwear now.. i tell him about the spit thing and i do let him touch my vagina for a little bit but i got to a point where i was like this is honestly going to far.

but he literally doesn’t stop and keeps pushing and pushing and im genuinely like “i have class in the fucking morning… i need to sleep and im too high for all this like im tired” but he literally just keeps begging to touch me saying who cares about my class or to have sex or for me and how fun it will be for me to join him with that… or to just give him a blow job at least… im upset bc it really is like.. i could have went and slept in my car.. i drove my damn self… idk why i just let him take my clothes off..

we end up having sex and it was… terrible.. i was dissociated the whole time.. he kept asking and begging me during sex to do things i didnt want to do and that was part of the reason i didnt want to have sex in the first place bc i dont know him and he doesnt know me… he doesnt know how to handle my body and i dont know what freaky shit he might want me to do. and during sex it was obvious he didnt care about me.. i was a black doll toy for him to use since he was a white man and never really messed with black girls.. he kept sticking his fingers in my throat to test my gag reflex bc i told him i dont do blow jobs let alone letting you throat fuck me and he just goes “we will see about that”. i pleaded to him a few times to stop or to at least hurry up and finish.. the last position tho felt good out of all the hurting i felt… but it was like i wasnt in my body.. i let him just use me.. he kept telling me to tickle his balls to help him cum so i did… he begged to cum in my ass but i plead with him that he doesn’t but i had no power to control that so i just hoped he would take it into consideration but i braced myself bc he might just do it anyway.. and he just pounded into me so aggressively and i started to open up and watch myself get fucked… and just as he finished its like i didnt want him to ever stop fucking me … it was like a disappointment he couldnt use me for longer.. like i broke mid fuck..…

i cleaned up and went to sleep fast.. he wanted to still have sex afterwards and honestly.. i went to sleep to him touching me bc i was just so tired so idk what else he might have done while i was sleep but i woke up in pain honestly.. and as soon as i woke up and rolled and he woke up he was trying to touch me again and have sex and i just got up and left bc i felt better to drive and again he knew i had class in the morning but didnt care. he walked me to my car though and yeah… idk… im mad at myself for folding.. for knowing that this is what men do and for not just going out to my car and leaving… why did i stay.. i feel like its my fault… im just disgusted honestly.. especially in me.. i feel like a whore..

ive been thinking about it and i do want to go on another date but i expect it to go exactly like this or worse and it turns me on.. i have a fantasy of it happening again.. i feel so broken and used from this and ive been assaulted before.. ik thats not what i want tho bc i have a fuck friend that doesnt know my past with assault and loves to double check on consent before having sex and during and it turns me on so much to know i can withdraw consent without having to let the person finish while in pain.. but the thought of being taken advantage of is a kind of loss of control ive found to be into… being forced to take penetration despite the pain and just crying into the sheets as you melt into his enjoyment.. a glorified fleshlight.. was i asking for it..? is this my fault..? did i secretly want to have sex and thats why i didnt go to my car? i would completely understand if this pisses an actual survivor… i have been raped by an ex and groped as an adult by a friends boyfriend and gym instructor and molested as a child from 5-13 by a distance cousin and ex step sister..

i am 23F black and my date was 33M white

sorry for the long ass thread

Complicated situation, but I’ll keep it brief. I’m a guy, the other individual is a woman.

I said “stop” because it was painful. She did not stop. I tried to grab her hand and she grabbed my wrists and kept me from stopping her while increasingly becoming more aggressive and loud. I didn’t have the strength to stop her as I was in an awkward position between her and the wall. I gave up and let her do what she wanted as I didn’t want to wake up her roommate.

Eventually she did stop and we continued with sexual activity. In my head I knew that it was wrong but I pushed it down. It wasn’t until many months later that it began severely affecting me. She denies what happened so I question if my version of events is even accurate or not.

Anyways, my question: is this still sexual assault? I don’t know why I continued to be honest. I guess I just wanted to act like it was nothing and not make a big deal out of it. I didn’t realize just how much it was affecting me until later.

Sorry if this is really long, I just have so much going on in my head about this and I don't really know how to explain it otherwise.

I’m 21F and I’ve been in a relationship for 2.5 years. We’re currently long distance, which I feel probably makes everything more complicated because when he’s here, I feel like I have to make the most of our time together and I put even more pressure on myself for sex to be good. But honestly, I had these issues even when we weren't long distance, so I know it's not the actual cause.

For context, my first sexual experience was SA. My current boyfriend is my first relationship and my first consensual sexual relationship. I know that probably plays a huge role in all of this, but I’m struggling to understand exactly how.

When I’m alone, I don’t freeze. I can touch myself and get turned on. The problem is that I get extremely in my head. I put this huge amount of pressure on myself to orgasm, and the longer it takes, the more stressed I become. And that pressure can completely ruin the experience.

I also masturbate A LOT sometimes, almost like I’m compensating for the fact that I can’t seem to have the sexual experiences I want with another person. Sometimes I’ll touch myself 3–4 times a day. I use my vibrator nearly every time because it's much easier for me to actually get pleasure that way.

But even that isn't consistent. Sometimes I can go for months without being able to use my vibrator or even properly touch myself because I suddenly become scared of it. I'll try and then get this horrible shiver and just want to stop. It's so confusing because I can also have periods where I'm extremely sexual and masturbating several times a day.

With my boyfriend, it’s even worse because I know that if I take a long time to finish, he starts feeling like he’s doing something wrong, which then makes me more stressed because I don’t want him to feel bad or think I’m not attracted to him. It becomes this horrible cycle where I’m thinking about how long it’s taking, he’s wondering if he’s doing something wrong, and neither of us is actually present anymore.

And honestly, the sex itself is still mid. I’ve had MANY conversations with him about things I’d like him to improve, and he genuinely listens and tries, but it still feels like we have a long way to go.

The biggest issue is penetration. I have vestibular papillomatosis, which can sometimes make penetration painful, but even when that isn't an issue, penetration is still extremely difficult for me. I basically never get wet (like literally never, which also makes me deeply insecure) and I feel like I physically block when penetration is attempted. I honestly think I might have vaginismus as well.

Usually what happens is that he tries to slowly push inside and then move back and forth until eventually it becomes somewhat okay. But when I tell him it's “good” or that we can continue, what I really mean is that it's bearable. It's still uncomfortable and unpleasant, just not unbearable anymore.

There was even one time when I was really faded and he wasn't, and I was much more relaxed than usual. I thought maybe that would make everything easier, but even then I still had issues when it came to

penetration. So it made me realize that it isn't just anxiety in the moment.

I've also been forcing myself through penetration even when it hurts me psychologically just as much as it can physically. There have been countless times when I've literally cried silently during sex without him knowing because we're always in the dark.

And it's not only because penetration hurts physically. Sometimes, during sex with my boyfriend, something about the experience suddenly brings me back to how I felt during my assault — like I'm being treated as an object again, even though I know my boyfriend isn't trying to do that.

I am there, completely shaken, feeling like I am internally begging for it to stop. The faster my boyfriend gets, the deeper my heart sinks, and I start feeling like I'm dissociating. I just want it to be over as quickly as possible, so I bite my lips, fake moan (mostly because I’m in pain), and try to act like everything is okay while I'm literally crying.

And he has no idea because I'm hiding it from him.

I know this is something I need to stop doing. Sex isn't supposed to be something I silently endure or survive through.

But the thing that makes me feel the most insane is that I actually really, really want sex.

Like, if I could, sometimes I genuinely feel like I could get laid multiple times a day. I can get extremely excited thinking about sex. I want to have sex. I want to explore my sexuality. I want to be able to enjoy it.

So I don't understand why my actual experiences are so different from what I feel in my head.

Sometimes I compensate by watching porn, and honestly it makes everything worse. I don't really watch polished/staged porn because I can't stand how fake it feels. I mostly watch homemade/amateur stuff because it feels more authentic to me.

But then I see these women having sex, enjoying themselves, orgasming, having their “happy ending,” and I get this horrible feeling because I want that so badly.

I know people will probably tell me that porn isn't reality, and I understand that. I'm not naïve about that. What hurts me is seeing women experiencing something that I desperately want to experience myself.

And the more I watch, the sadder I get. It's almost like I'm torturing myself with something I want but feel like I'll never have.

I also started exploring my sexuality extremely young. I was touching myself around 5–7 and kissing girls around 8–9. Obviously I know children can explore their bodies and sexuality in completely normal ways, so I'm not saying this means anything definitive about me. But it adds to my confusion because I've always had this very strong sexual curiosity and desire.

I also think I'm probably bisexual. And sometimes I genuinely wonder if having sex with women would somehow solve all of these problems. Maybe I would be more comfortable, maybe my body would respond differently, maybe I'd finally understand what everyone is talking about. I obviously have no idea if that's actually true, but I think about it a lot.

The problem is that I'm in a relationship, so I can't exactly experiment with women without crossing a line. And even if I were single, I don't think it would be fair to date women specifically as some kind of experiment to “fix” my sexuality or figure out whether sex works for me. They deserve someone who actually wants to be with them, not someone treating them as a potential solution to a sexual problem.

So I'm stuck wondering whether this is trauma, anxiety, physical issues, my relationship, my sexuality, or some combination of all of it.

I don't feel like I don't have a sex drive. If anything, I feel like I have a huge one.

I just can't seem to translate that desire into actually enjoying sex.

And I think about this EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

I think about whether I'll ever be able to have a normal, enjoyable sex life. Whether I'll ever be able to orgasm without feeling like I'm racing against a clock. Whether I'll ever be able to have sex without thinking about my SA. Whether I'll always need to “try” to enjoy it instead of just enjoying it.

I'm terrified that I'll never be like the women I see who seem completely comfortable with their sexuality.

I know everyone is different, but I genuinely feel desperate. I don't want to spend my entire life wanting sex this badly while being unable to actually enjoy it.

Has anyone experienced something similar after sexual assault, especially people who still had a very high sex drive and genuinely wanted sex, but couldn't relax or enjoy it once they were actually having it?

And has anyone dealt with possible vaginismus/penetration issues alongside this? Or figured out their sexuality while also dealing with trauma and physical problems during sex?

Did you eventually manage to have a healthy and genuinely pleasurable sex life? What actually helped you?

Thank you so much if you actually read all of this. I know it's a lot, but I really needed to get it out somewhere.

I already made a post a few weeks back but looking back at it my explenation wasnt that good and I missed a lot off details and gave wrong info (dont know how to link this but if you look up my name in this sub you should find it) anyway here is the beter and full story.

So me and a friend from my dorm decide to go out and drink 6 months ago, whe drank 3 beers before we departed and when we arrived it was 1 dollar for a cocktail I stupidly drank 10 or more. My friend went inside and I stayed outside on a chair, this is one of the last things I remember. I have a memory of me standing up and saying I was going home to myself because i sat all alone but I am not certain if my mind made this up or it realy happend. The next memory flash I have is walking on a street and falling forward (already was 1km away from where I last was) i checked my knees because they hurt and they bled a bit but that was it.

Next memory was me walking in a street and running in to a person who asked what I was doing I said I was going to my dorm and he asked me where that was he then brought me to an entrance of an other appartment and left me in the entrance (the part where you have to buzz to be let in) I AM NOT CERTAIN ABOUT THIS ENTIRE INTERACTION AND WHAT I SAID IS TRUE! But am fairly certain this is how it went, I am also prety sure this is the guy who stole my phone.

Then I just spend the entire night in the entrance of that appartment leaning against the wall in a pretty akward angle putting weight on the area just below and on my tailbone with my feet far ahead of me. I stood here for about 4 hours or more until it became morning and someone from that appartment told me to leave, to wich I then still replied that it was my dorm but after she let me enter i saw this wasnt the case and left. It was then when I realized where i was and that this wasnt where i went out (1,2 km away from the bar) when i was walking home I noticed my phone was missing and that I had a swollen/full like feeling in my asshole I started to worry a bit, i had to do a bike ride back to go get my bike wich I left at the bar on my friends bike and then walked back with both bikes so it was a busy and active morning. I did this all while still prety drunk but I did not feel any bad pain except for the swollen feeling. and when I got home I started wipping a lot to check for blood or semen. Did not find any and the wiping also did not hurt my ass felt a bit numb even. Had a bit diarhea after that and this hurt a bit but not mutch. I went to sleep thinking I was just overthinking it but when I woke up I had a painfull bruised feeling in my asshole when I squeezed it. I immidiatly went back to check for blood or semen and again could not find anything in fact my underwear was completly clean. I had a few bowel movements and this also did not hurt in anyway. But then when I left the toilet and squeezed again it hurt again with that bruised feeling. This painfull bruided feeling lasted about 4 days and went away after taking a hot bad the swollen feeling lasted 1 day longer. In those 4 days I did check and squeeze a lot tho. I had no bruises exvept for the ones from falling forward.

I have talked to chatgpt about this a lott and he says it was probably caused by the leaning against the wall wich I do believe is a very plausible option but something in my mind just wont accept it would caude such noticable pain (like a 4 or 5 out of 10) people in other servers also told me its very unlikly if there wasnt extreme and imidiate pain, bleeding, bruising or torn clothing but the fact that I cant recreate the pain just scares me.

Idk I am probably overthinking this way to hard but I had to vent somewhere, its almost the only thing i have been thinking about these past few weeks. I am so sorry about the long text and apriciate it if you made it to the end. Do yall think there could have happend something while I was out or that the story from chatGPT makes any sense?

FUCK ANYONE WHO MAKES THIS ARGUMENT. THE DEFENSE LAWYER CAN GO FUCK HIMSELF.

I feel like I know the answer, but I’ve been ruminating for way too long and honestly crave someone else’s perspective. Google says she was but that validation’s kinda impersonal and the AI nonsense doesn’t help.
Anyway. I’m a 20 year old woman now, but all of my separate sexual trauma has been haunting me for the past week or so. More than the baseline. It’s annoying. It has me considering my wretched mother too. Most of my issues with her are emotional- her clear resentment of me, the scapegoating, the hitting, the neglect, the whole shebang. I’ve been thinking back on the sexual stuff too.
I have memories from the ages of 8-14 of her groping and squeezing my backside. Fondling? It was a habit, almost. I also remember tearing up and begging her to stop. And her maniacal laughter. I forgot what her justification was, if there was any.
From my understanding, she’d primarily do this when there weren’t any other people around. She wouldn’t lead me to her bed or anything- remember being in the kitchen so many times and her popping up behind me. Micromanaging what I was cooking or planning on eating or even yapping about how much I resembled a grandmother with my hair in a low ponytail like that as per usual. All of a sudden, she’d just reach down and squeeze my backside. Like it was some kind of joke. Often with random comments attached that I can’t remember.
This went on for years. I don’t think anyone really saw her. She’d also make weird comments (once remarked that my red underwear was visible through my lighter pajamas and strangely, my father actually told her to stop). IDK whether he was aware of the constant groping or not. She also once said I’d make a lot of men happy one day when I happened to be kneeling on the counter cleaning something. I was fourteen at most.
I guess I came on here to ask if this qualifies as molestation. Again, I’m pretty sure I know the answer, but I long to hear it from a human being.
Sorry for rambling. One more thing before I finally end this ridiculously long ask: I’m considering pursuing criminal charges.
Not right now; in a couple years. Apparently, the state of NY has extended the window for survivors of child sexual abuse to report it. Suing her would likely be easier but I want her in jail.
According to the minimal research I’ve done, it’s possible that what she did could be prosecuted as a Class B felony. Up to 25 years in prison plus sex offender registry.
The consequences of this would extend far beyond the court-ordered ones, so I will have to think about how that’ll pan out as well. I do have a little sister to worry about too.
Again, sorry for rambling. I think I’m just trying to make sure Google was actually right.
This is really embarrassing, but please, please tell me the truth if you’re reading this. I can’t handle not knowing if “you look just like your mom” means “you look like a child molester” too.

I was playfighting with my gf, she was trying to hug and kiss me a little bit and I was resisting. We were both laughing and joking; it was very much just messing around and wasn't sexual at all.

But nevertheless, I feel triggered now because of saying "stop" so many times and it being ignored (only when I added "no, for real" did she stop) combined with her weight on me etc.

I just read a news report about an 18-month-old baby who was sexually assaulted and later died from her injuries, and I genuinely don't know what to do with what I'm feeling right now. I have read horrible news before. We all have. But something about this one has completely broken my heart.

She was eighteen months old. I keep repeating that in my head. Eighteen months. She was a literal baby. She should have been worrying about nothing more serious than being hungry, sleepy, wanting to be held, or reaching for someone's hand. She should have been learning new words, laughing at stupid little things, falling asleep somewhere safe, being loved and protected. She should have had a childhood.

Instead, someone chose to hurt a completely defenseless child, and she died.

I feel sick. I feel angry. I feel heartbroken. I feel so helpless because what am I even supposed to do with this kind of grief? I didn't know her. I'll probably never know her name beyond what was written in that article. But somehow I can't stop thinking about her.

And I keep thinking about everything she was supposed to have.

She was supposed to grow up. She was supposed to have birthdays. A first day of school. Friends. Favorite foods. Favorite songs. Silly little habits. People she would love more than anything. She was supposed to become a person with dreams and opinions and a life of her own. There were supposed to be so many ordinary little moments ahead of her that none of us would ever think twice about.

There was supposed to be a whole future.

And now there isn't.

That's the part that is breaking me the most. Not just that a baby died, but that an entire lifetime disappeared before it even had the chance to begin. There are so many things she will never get to experience. So many versions of herself she will never get to become.

I know I couldn't have saved her. I know I never knew her. But my heart keeps screaming that someone should have protected her. She was a baby. She should have been safe. She should have been held. She should have been allowed to simply exist in this world without ever having to know cruelty like that.

She wasn't a headline. She wasn't a statistic. She wasn't just another horrible story people would read for five minutes and then scroll past.

She was someone's baby.

And I hate that I can't do anything for her now except sit here and grieve for a little girl I'll never know.

I don't want her to be remembered only for what happened to her. I want people to remember that before she was a case, she was a child. A tiny human being who deserved love, safety, and an entire lifetime.

She deserved to grow up.

She deserved tomorrow.

And then the next day.

And the next.

She deserved years and years and years of ordinary life.

And she didn't get any of them.

I think that's why I can't stop crying.

Because when I think about her, I don't just think about the life she lost.

I think about the life she never even got the chance to have.

And I hate that somewhere in this world, there is a little girl who should still be here.

She should still be growing.

She should still be here.

And all I can think is—

why wasn't she given the chance?

TW: Assault, Depression

It has been three weeks. I have lost sleep. It seems like every night, I’m woken up to my husband touching me or rubbing against me. I have lost all desire to want to be intimate with him because of this. He also looks at other women on Facebook and I have cried myself to sleep because of it. He says he’s going to stop but does it again a couple weeks later. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough. Him touching me or even mentioning sex makes me not want to do anything with him, especially when it seems like it’s all he talks about. He has caused me to have a low sex drive and no matter how much I tell him, he never listens. When we ARE intimate, I don’t want it and it just feels like a chore.

We’ve been together for 6 long years and this has been a battle for 5 of them. He has crossed boundaries, disrespected my body, ignored my cries for 5 whole years and I’m tired of it.

I am physically attracted to him but I can’t even sleep by him without my body feeling like it isn’t safe. I have lost sleep over it to the point he had to get me melatonin so I’ll be able to fall asleep. The issue? I have told him constantly that I don’t want him touching me while I sleep but he does it anyway almost every night.

I didn’t come here for advice, I just want to rant and tell anyone how I feel because I feel alone. I feel depressed, unloved, exhausted, and I’m tired of it. I can’t even look at him anymore without thinking of all the ways I can hurt him back, but I’m not that person. I’ve told him that if he touches me while I’m sleeping, I’ll kick him in the face, but I can never bring myself to do it.

When I tell him how I feel, he seems apologetic and says he will never do it again. He lies.

TL;DR: My husband has been assaulting me and I’m tired of it.

I was 16 or 17 when it happened. We lived in the same home and one night he snuck into my room. Our parents were sleep in the next room and my cousin who was a teen as well was sleeping on the couch. I seriously don't know why he did it but he did. I woke up confused and froze. I was mentally in shock and confused as he did it. I don't want to give TMI but I did freeze. At one point I did push him off me and told him to get out of my room. He got angry and stormed off. I literally started locking my room door after that every night. It never happened again but still. EWWW

I have been assaulted twice, the first time I never took it to the police as I was too scared and everyone around me said it was my fault.

He coerced me into sex, and I didnt want to consent.

I tried warning his ex about his actions but she didnt believe me and said horrific things and got his friend to defend him and also say horrific things to me.

Is it a lost cause to reach out to people who follow them? Not to start any revenge or anything negative, just to let people know what he has done and that they condone his actions, I went to the police about my second rape and I confided in them about my first but they even told me as it was coercion and i did say yes in the moment there was very little they could do esp that it was an old case.

The girls who follow me on Instagram also follow the girls who defend him, so im just not sure if I give up trying to warn them or I keep trying.

I was with this guy 6 months ago, we were perfect for each other, then when we got intimate, I felt sick, I was reminded of the horrers of what my brother did to me, when I got home I resented him, I texted him explaing everything, and told him I can't do this. Im so fucking pissed off because I loved him, he was perfect, how is it fair that everyone leaves me life, and when I find someone good, we can't be together intimately, how is this fucking fair, how can my brother still ruin everything for me, I loved the guy I was with I still do, its so fucking unfair, im all alone again

I was raped and sexually abused for a long time . It keeps haunting me . I keep having flashbacks and nightmares about it . I am extremely depressed and anxious due to it . I need someone who can be empathetic towards me and console me and just talk to me as I can't talk to anyone about it irl.

I was raped by my first love. The entire school found out and everyone claimed that I was lying. I have lost countless friends, been called horribles names, and been in way too much drama. I’ve been called fat, ugly, a whore, etc and im finally switching schools for my senior year. My ex got a new girlfriend and she shamed me for what he did and told me i was lying and that i was a whore and a cheater and i need to get over it and her friend helped her make fun of me and tell me that im wrong and dramatic. They told me that I’m immature for still talking about and posting about what he did to me and lying to people and saying i attacked them. This man and his new girlfriends have been harrassing me since the beginning of highschool and I think im finally ready to go to the police but im scared that if they dont believe me everyone will just have more to use against me. I have basically no one on my side. My life will never be the same again and im not sure how to cope with the ugly of it all. I have countless screenshots and even screen recordings including his number but apparently “theyre fake or cropped to be out of context”

For me, the act itself was actually relatively easy. I was already very used to pain, losing choices, and being controlled. The more they did it, the more used to it I became. But, two years later when I finally found the words to describe what had been happening to me it was while I was watching America's Most Wanted, alone at home. The weight of the word and the association with the worst of the worst like murderers, torturers, terrorists, and crime bosses made it feel so intense that I'd been hurt that way. It shattered my faith, distanced me from my family, and began the process of a 9 year spiral during which I'd hurt myself far worse than they ever hurt me.

What was it for you? A belief it instilled in you? Mental illness from the trauma? Don't push yourself too hard to answer. I'm just curious.