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

March 1, 2008

I knew Rafael from the gym I worked at. We had became friends quickly because I was planning a trip to Fortaleza, Brazil for an idea I had called “Put Art Back into Your Heart” – teaching art to kids who were living in the slums. He spoke Portuguese and was from Brazil. My family comes from the Portuguese Azores islands – so I felt connected. We became friends. I had some feelings for him to but I was still discovering him.

He came to my shows, he helped me translate some documents I needed for Brazsil and we spoke often at the gym. I was moving around a lot – and finally I was moving to my own little place. Although it was a basement apartment, it was my own. I shared the exciting news with Rafael and he offered to come over with wine to celebrate. I agreed. It had been a year since I’d known him.

The crazy part is this. I had a vision. A clear vision from Divine that I was going to be raped. I was receiving a clear warning that it was going to happen if I let him in. I didn’t listen.

There were boxes everywhere because I had just moved in and was getting settled. He came with a bottle of white wine. We talked and laughed. We started kissing, which to be honest was a bit quick for me. But I went with it. After a few kisses he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. He laid me on the bed. I started to get scared and say “no.” I remember kicking him in the chest, saying no over and over again. I remember thinking, if I’m loud enough my landlord will hear me and he’ll help – I couldn’t yell. My voice cracked if I tried to get louder. I honestly don’t even remember the act itself. I don’t remember if he wore a condom. The next thing I remember is him looking at me with a stern look on his face saying…

“Now that wasn’t so bad was it?”

I told him to get the fuck out of my house. He left and we never spoke since.

I felt like I was to blame. I felt ashamed because I had flirted with him. I didn’t tell the cops. I told a friend of mine “I had a terrible day yesterday” and that was it.

I’ve dealt with things alone all my life. Never really had family support. I always took care of things on my own.

I couldn’t handle it. It’s almost been 8 years and I am just recalling stuff. I couldn’t have relationships. I still can’t. I’ll start a relationship and have sex but I always end up talking about the rape because I get triggered.

The only thing I learned is that my instincts are everything to me. My instincts is God. I have lived by them since that day – and I’ve been blessed.

As far as having a happy healthy relationship – I don’t know. I don’t get into them. I had one that lasted 1.5 years and when he tried to kiss me once and I turned my head – he got so angry with me asking why I couldn’t just feel the moment – I lost it with him. His sexual preferences bothered me. They triggered me. I’ve been celibate most of my life since then. It takes me forever to trust someone.

Thank you for speaking out!

— Suzana, age 36

1 comment

  • Alissa Ackerman


Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *