CLICK BELOW FOR WAYS TO GET INVOLVED

CLOSE

Bring Brave Miss World to your community or campus
to spark conversation, awareness and change.

>> Click here to host a screening

Sharing your survival story can inspire others who may be
victims of sexual assault to receive the help they need.

>> Click here to join the conversation

Buy a T-Shirt or make a donation and be part
of the solution for rape awareness and prevention.

>> Click here to make a donation
>> Click here to buy a t-shirt

Multiple Rape

I was raped on the evening of the 23 of December 2004. I was raped by three black men that ambushed me and then raped me. They pretended to help me on the side of the road where I was stuck. It was raining badly. I shouted and fought and did quite well until they eventually just picked me up and dragged me into the veld where the grass was long and we could not be seen from the road. They put me down with one of them sitting on my head with his knees on my shoulders holding me down with his hands on my forehead. I realized then only that they were going to rape me and started shouting out loud, “Don’t hurt my unborn baby” I was not pregnant but hoped for this to prevent them from hurting me to badly. The man at my head then pushed his hands over my… Continue reading »

Childhood Friend Date Rape

I had lived abroad with my military family and returned to my home State after graduating high school to live with my grandmother to decide my future rather college or join the military. I received a phone call from a childhood friend if I wanted to drive to a nearby city about 80 miles away and back we could catch up, get a bite to eat on the return. Even, my grandmother thought it was nice of him to take me on this brief day trip. This particular friend was a few years older than myself, but as a little girl he was always nice. This childhood friend had an unopened canned grape soda and asked if I wanted it. I thought he was being nice to offer the soda. But, after drinking a few drinks of the soda could not keep my eyes open. Next thing I remember is we were driving home and… Continue reading »

Deceit of family friend

My story is not as much a story as it is my life. I have been through unfortunately two traumatic situations. For the longest time until I was in high school did it hit me I was abused and it was not ok that this is a big deal and I need to deal with this. When I was just five years old my brothers best friend was about 16 and at first I had an innocent crush and that soon changed. He was a person that was always around and family trusted him. One day my brother went to work outside. His friend and I stayed inside and I was watching tv. That’s when the first incident happened. I knew he was doing something wrong but didn’t fully understand until I was older. I didn’t tell anyone from embarrassment and who would believe he would’ve done such a thing? Now I have a daughter… Continue reading »

The summer between 6th and 7th grade

When you are twelve and you are running away from rape, and you are dazzling drunk from drinking out of a red SOLO cup, the world spins and the floor comes up to greet you, gritting it’s sandpaper teeth against your ruddied cheek. You remember the way the fence feels that you lean against, when you’re thoughts aren’t connecting, when you can’t make tangible, this thing that just happened to you, because your mind is too young to agree with it. All of the boys think you’re easy, they know that you have no mother, your brothers run wild in the streets, your father is always working, so there’s no one to monitor you, discipline you. All the boys have to do is show you attention because they’ve heard it’s an easy in. You don’t know this because you’re twelve, because your mind doesn’t work that way, because you’ve just learned the benefits of having… Continue reading »

my story-and where i “took it”…

My story begins when I was 5 or 6…. my parents best friends had a son a few years older than me…. at some point he started molesting me… every time his parents came over or we went over to their house… it started out “easy”.. like he would only touch etc… but than at some poing he started using objects …. i remember i used to watch the floor and pretend all the shapes on it were animals (i was mostly on my stomach)… one day.. my brother came in and “caught us”… he was not all that older than me…. about 2 and a half years… and instead of saying something… he just thought it was a “nice game” and started doing the same…. it went on like that till i was about 12.. and it gradually stoped… no specific reason….than i was blessed with a whole 3 years of freedom…when i was… Continue reading »

Different face, but the same monster

It started when I was 5…he was a trusted friend of a neighbors family…I can still remember his smell, some 20 years later…’If you tell anyone that I touch you, I’ll hurt you’ he would say, and then throw me to the ground and walk away…fast forward 10 years, same monster but a different face…drunk at a friends house…the room spinning, the taste of mexican brandy and pepsi on my tongue…I don’t even know his name…I begged him to stop, fighting and kicking under his weight, crushing me, gasping for air, trying as hard as I could to keep his penis from entering me…not another violation…not again…walking home, crying…another few years go by, and I met the ‘one’…he never hit me at first, not until the week after I gave birth to my son…then the beatings began in earnest…after learning the hard way, after the hitting and punching and choking, I realized that resistance only… Continue reading »

He’s Dead

About a month ago I got a phone call from my brother. He told me that my ex-step dad, the man who molested me during my childhood, was dead, that he had died over a year ago, in October 2009. This day was one of the happiest days of my life. My brother forwarded me his obituary. It read that he was an avionics installer and expert, a U.S. Navy Veteran of the Vietnam War and a member of the Hopewell Baptist Church in Savannah, Tennessee. It read that he was married to a woman eighteen years ago. A woman was one of my mother’s best friends just twenty years ago. The obituary read that he was a disaster relief volunteer for Southern Baptist Convention, did local missions work and was active in Media Ministry at Hopewell Baptist Church. That’s funny, he was Catholic when he lived with us. Even then he was an active… Continue reading »

innocent

i was only 12 years old when the rape had begun. I finally put an end to the rape around the age of 21 years old. I had never told anybody about the rape and the raper, I was so afraid that someone, and worse of all my parents and especially my father will know anything about me being raped. They don’t know up till now, because I did all I can do to protect them from the on going rape. The raper was almost 2 years older than me and he knew everything about sex. I knew nothing about sex, and so innocent and so afraid that no one will believe me. Traper was the negative leader of my group in the kibbutz. And he had threatened me: “I’ll tell about you” and this was more dangerous than an atomic bomb throwed on me. Becaus a kibbutz is a place in which you are… Continue reading »

Where did I go?

I have waited all my life to be able to tell this to someone I can trust, someone who will not judge me, but most importantly after hearing Linor Abargil and Cecelia Peck I am convinced that our stories may perhaps save others from being traumatized years after our rape. My hope is that by telling our stories, others will go on to live their lives without shame thinking that they are not worthy of a loving relationship. I was 15 years old, violently raped repeatedly for months by two cousins and they were brothers. I feared for my life. My life until that time was full of hopes and dreams and a boy crush who respected me. When my cousins robbed me of my innocence I began to feel dirty and ashamed which caused me to turn my back on my teen crush and I lost interest in all things scholastic. In the years… Continue reading »

4 short stories of sexual aggresion

There are those that find themselves Many times over In situations of abuse A pattern, repeated time and again The victim doesn’t understand