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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.

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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, September 23, 2015

You never expect your innocence to leave you so early in life.

You never expect that someone you love and care about so much can do something so harmful.

At the time, I didn't know it was wrong. I was young and clueless, and for so long, I had used that as an excuse for what happened. But now I know that it's not my fault.

We were both young. I remember going down to his room after school and just hanging out, talking about Pokemon and Gameboy games. When he asked me to lay with him on his bed, I didn't think anything different of it. He was family, and this was totally okay because we were just two children.

I don't really remember a lot of the details about it now, but I do remember the feeling of guilt and disgust I felt with myself after we were found out. I remember sitting in the bed of my father's truck while he was washing something, holding back tears as I could feel his disappointed silence penetrate the air around me.

All I wanted was to play computer games with one of my then favorite people. Sometimes I wonder if I was too scared or too distracted to say no when he would sit behind me not wearing any pants, and he told me to take my pants off. When I felt his body against mine as he laid on top of me on his bed.

Sometimes I wonder if any of this really means anything because I don't remember explicitly saying no. But I know that I didn't want it, even though it felt good. My body felt like a betrayal, and I was torn between two completely opposite feelings.

Nothing will ever feel the same as that rush of relief and fear that I felt when my mom found out, when she saw that his zipper was undone and that we both looked nervous. I never want to feel the way that I did those days ever again.

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