Welcome to the SpeakOut! Blog

Break the silence that surrounds sexual assault, sexual harassment, interpersonal violence, relationship abuse, stalking, hate crimes, and identity-based violence. Share your story here on our anonymous blog.

To speak about an experience with any form of interpersonal violence is difficult, but it is also empowering. Breaking the silence reduces shame and helps others to speak out about their own experiences.

End the shame. Be empowered. Speak Out!

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We are holding our first fall Speak Out! in October 26th, 2017 from 7-9 pm in The Pit. For more information, check our Facebook page.

Because this blog features stories of interpersonal and sexual violence, we offer this *content warning* as a way of caution. We also ask that you do not reproduce any of the content below, as the authors of these personal stories are anonymous, and cannot give consent for their stories to appear anywhere other than this blog or at a Project Dinah-led SpeakOut event.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

I said yes. Here I was, in a completely different country having the time of my life. I had been at a rager- don't tell me I shouldn't have had 'that much.' Everyone forgets their limits sometimes, no matter how careful they are. In my mostly drunken stupor, I agreed to meet up with someone I had been talking to on Tinder. This all seemed perfectly normal to me. He'd pick me up? Awesome. I didn't want to walk anywhere. And next thing I know, there I was, in this guy's flat. Allowing myself to be undressed. There were no sheets on the mattress. Somehow, I didn't mind. I remember consenting to sex. I remember that he was completely sober, and I remember saying "just use a condom, just use a condom." In the dark, I heard enough confirmation that, despite protest, he was agreeing to use protection. I'm thinking to myself that everything is fine now, because even though we are strangers, we are being safe. I'm thinking all of this until I feel him...dripping off my stomach. I am immediately shocked and ask him why he told me he was using a condom, when he clearly had not. His only answer was "Oh, I couldn't stay hard. Don't worry, I'm clean." In my reduced state of awareness, I had failed to notice this switch until it was too late. He threw a towel too me and exited the room, where I could hear his flatmates just outside, congratulating him on what he had just done. He drove me home, and admitted to having a previous 25 sexual partners.

Although I said yes, I had never felt so used, so violated. I was so scared, and I still am. Despite what was welling up in me when I realized what this man had done, I remained quiet on the way home, too shocked to say anything. I doubted that something like this would ever happen to me. I'm careful, I watch myself, I carry a whistle for fuck's sake! Nothing though, no amount of preparation or prevention could have stopped this. I feel stupid for letting this happen to myself, and stupid for being drunk enough to let my body be treated this way. I don't know what I will do now, because I feel like I cannot talk to my friends at home in the states. 

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