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January 4th, 2016

Rape??

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There is a LOT to this story so I will be cutting out a lot of detail in order to make this shorter. This takes place in 2004 when I was 5 years old. I lived with my Mom, Dad and little sister. My parents were having marriage problems so...
May 24th, 2019

The Statistics that Changed Me

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2 sexual assaults and 1 rape… the statistics of my story. I can’t promise that this story is pleasant, but I can tell you that power and growth comes with telling it. So sincerely, thank you for hearing me out. October 2017 I was in Chebut, Argentina(a part of the...
April 1st, 2021

Sex doll

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After work one night I was drugged by a co-worker. I woke up in his bed naked. He was not in the room. I felt 2 emotions very heavily and immediately. Shame and wrong. I remember looking around for my clothes in a panic. I don’t remember how I got...
August 10th, 2022

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I was 15. I went to stay the weekend with a friend a town over. She bought me to a friends house and they were two older boys; not much older a few years. The place was a really old one bedroom trailer not very big at all. A small...
July 10th, 2019

So drunk I can’t remember

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I was turning 18. I was partying like any teen would. I drank a lot. I threw up, sat down. They picked me up and put me in their car. They said “don’t worry we’ll take care of you. You won’t miss the bus”. I remember lying on the bed...
October 15th, 2022

Male dancer

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Hello my Name is Tj. This happen about 4 years ago I was 19 years old at very young age I always tried to see the good in people. I was always happy and felt nothing could break me down went threw cancer as a baby lost my brother and...
May 8th, 2019

Spoke out and was blamed

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I am the only girl at a job of 4 men. I am also 20 while these men are 40+. One worker would grab me from behind when I would walk in the back to the bathroom. This would happen often. One day all my coworkers had to go outside...
April 16th, 2020

3 years on

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I don’t know why I’m writing this out. Maybe so I don’t feel alone, or maybe to just have it in writing, I don’t know. 3 years ago on the 19th I was raped. I can say that now, not that I’m proud of that but I can say it....
April 2nd, 2016

Kidnapped in Naples

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In December of 1989 I was traveling in Italy alone, but I had contacts that my boyfriend in Canada had set up for me in different cities in Italy. I left friends in Rome to go to Naples specifically to see Pompeii. When I arrived in Naples my contact had...
October 21st, 2019

Miss

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My story is about how I was abused at the age of 9 till the age of 13 by a close family member, and how much this destroyed my life , it was a trauma as a child, it was intense
May 4th, 2019

To my best friend who raped me

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To my best friend who raped me, I am so torn between feeling love for you and feeling hate for what you have done; what you have taken away from me is irreplaceable. On the first of May, I lost hope for all living things to live and breathe and...
November 15th, 2020

J’avais 13 ans

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J’avais 13 ans j’étais allé avec mon amie chez un gars pour la soirée ils étaient trois gars et c’etait la première fois que je buvais de l’alcool et ce gars qui s’appelle pascal m’a agressé. Je ne l’ai dis a personne et j’ai fait comme si rien ne s’était...
November 23rd, 2014

Still Unable to Tell People

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What I remember from that night is feeling flattered that someone older was paying attention. I was underage in a bar. I don’t remember much after that except three men carrying me into a motel room, all at least ten years older. One was the owner of the bar, who...
March 17th, 2024

Daycare friend

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I didn’t really know it at first but when I was seven this girl was 10. She told me it was just a game and she told me to touch her area and she would touch mine and I didn’t know better so I did what she said and she...
November 2nd, 2019

Ms

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I was 21 years old. I had moved into a flat with my first boyfriend Pete and his best friend, Paul and his pregnant girlfriend Gerry. Pete and Paul were friends from being in the army together. They were both 26 years old. Paul was also my first cousin. I...
August 17th, 2019

My/our German “Weinstein” Case

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My name is Jany Tempel. I live both in Germany and Thailand. I turned public now, to end the big silence of our country. Almost twenty years ago I had already written a novel about my arduous life. The book wasn’t published back then, mainly because I reported on crimes...
January 6th, 2019

Black Girl

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As a black child she grew up with many black women An atmosphere of mostly females and children A plether of differences yet many the same someone points the finger but no one takes the blame Attenion seaking variances of competition with the appearance of being soft For the man...
September 18th, 2019

Raped in the Air Force

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My first duty stationed 28 years ago, i was sexually assaulted by my first supervisor and violently raped by an officer in my unit. The violence of that raped, ruined me for a long time. Suffer from severe PTSD and after 31 years i am being forced out of the...
February 13th, 2020

Start of grooming at 15

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When I was around 11 years old my parents and I moved to a new house. It was a lovely time. A neighbour of ours who was very friendly with the rest of our neighbourhood as first was kind. People always said he was very charming. Walking home from school...
September 1st, 2019

My fiancé is my rapist but I...

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I have a past of sexual abuse but for the most part I’ve put it behind me though I get flashbacks every so often when watching a triggering show or something. My problem currently is my fiancé. This isn’t a new development in our relationship this started since we started...
June 8th, 2023

Unethical or illegal?

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Last year my partner and I worked for the same business. It was a small business near a small town and it had no management or HR of any sort – only one man owned and ran it, even though it served thousands of people each year. I hit it...
December 5th, 2020

Summer 2019

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I got my first job working at a lovely Mediterranean restaurant/cafe one summer because my teacher said she knew the man who ran the place and put in a reference for me. I was 15. He was in his 60s. Two days after I started, the groping began. Only he...
December 26th, 2019

Ms.

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I was raped by a co-worker when I was in my mid-20’s. We were at a work function, we were all drinking, then about 10 of us went to his place to continue the party. He grabbed me on my way out of the washroom and dragged me into his...
April 21st, 2021

A respectable collegue

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The next day I walked down the stairs to the hotel, aware that he was sitting at the table having breakfast. Some things you think would never happen to you, you think that working externally with a colleague (married and with children) is not dangerous. But then in a moment...
March 17th, 2023

Indigo

I returned to fine art in 1990 when I took at class in indigo dyeing at San Francisco State University. I was lucky that the instructor, Yoshiko Wada, and another student from her class, were in the East Bay so that we could carpool together. We would talk textiles on our weekly journey across the Bay Bridge to the Campus. The other student was an accomplished Quilter named Linda MacDonald. Linda lived in Willits near the famous Mendocino Art Center, but traveled to Berkeley to attend this class once a week. The Indigo vat was made in a 32-gallon garbage can and had to be kept covered between dyeing sessions. Indigo is a unique rich blue dye that develops with an oxidization process when exposed to air. Dipping the fabric several times, and allowing the natural fiber to oxidize before dipping it again, creates darker shades of blue. The dye in the vat is created from a mixture of indigo pigment, various chemicals and a reducing agent to remove oxygen from the dye. It is a rich green color while in the vat, which shows up on the fabric before it is fully exposed to the air. The smell emitted from the dye is unusual, a musky odor in my mind. I like to think that it smells like the color blue. The vat needs to be carefully stirred and maintained between dyeing sessions. There is a “bloom” on the top of the vat created by oxidized indigo, making a bubbly and shiny ball of material reminiscent of a flower. The “bloom” gets moved to the side before entry of the pre-wetted fabric. The process reminds me of baking bread or making yogurt where the steps need to be carefully followed to achieve the desired results. In the process of bread and yogurt making, there are living cultures involved in order to create the product, and with the creation and dyeing process of indigo, it has that same feeling of being alive. In order to create interesting patterns, my classmates and I would use resist techniques on the fabric like pastes, stitching and clamping. Simple household items like clothespins could be used to create patterns by folding and then placing the pins at intervals along the fold lines. Beautiful and surprising results were achieved using these methods. Image of Indigo dye on fabric during the oxidization process. My dream of being a professional artist, all started in early childhood, and the first memories of my creations go back to Nursery School. I loved playing with all kinds of materials, like paint, clay, and crayons, just to name a few examples. Mel (Melanie), painting at Jack and Jill Nursery School, Walnut Creek, California, 1960. In 1974, a neighbor in Marin where I was living at the time and studying art at College of Marin told me about an Art School in Mexico. I ended up sending off slides of my work with an application to the Instituto Allende, and was delighted to hear that I was accepted. I began my journey to study there in San Miguel de Allende by flying to Mexico City in January of 1975. A bus ride completed that journey. When I first arrived, I moved in with a family who had two small children, including a newborn. It seemed like a safe living situation for a 19-year-old woman, but that shortly proved to not be true when the husband started coming on to me. I ended up finding my own place on the other side of town. It was a spacious abode with a wall that was shared with a weaving factory next door. There were 2 adjoined bedrooms, a bathroom, a large living/kitchen area and a small concrete patio out the back door. There was no hot water, refrigerator or a telephone. When I needed hot water for dishes, I would boil some on the stove. For showers, I had to build a fire in a box below a water tank outside to get hot water. I felt much more secure living there and walking a further distance to the Instituto on the other side of town than living with the husband who had made me feel so unsafe. There was the Central Plaza, which was called the “Jardin” that was in the middle of town, and I would pass through it on my walk quite frequently. This was the site of fireworks and festivals, like the celebration of Cinco de Mayo. The streets were cobblestone and many charming shops and galleries were located downtown. The School itself was on a beautiful campus with large ornate doors in front that were closed when school was not in session. Photo of the closed front doors of the Instituto Allende I had heard about you and what you had done to other women before you appeared in my main living space one sunny spring afternoon pointing a gun at me. You had a bandana wrapped around your face and tied behind your head. I had heard you first, in the bathroom. Dressed in a long polyester dress with colorful psychedelic patterns. I wasn’t wearing any underwear or shoes. I walked through the 2 bedrooms and turned left when I saw you standing there. I screamed and shouted, “help me,” thinking that workers at the Weaving Factory would hear me and come rescue me. Nobody came. You said to me “Coyote” which I later learned meant to be quiet or to shut up. You grabbed my shoulders and dragged me out the unlocked back door onto the concrete patio. The tops of my feet got scraped. I gave up. I knew you were going to rape me. I just wanted you to finish as quickly as possible. You took off your belt and put down your gun. Somehow I managed to pick up your gun and threw it over the wall embedded with glass on the top, into the alleyway. The same wall you had climbed over to get into my place through the unlocked back door. Towards the end of this ordeal, I heard a knock on my door. You left, climbing back over the wall. I answered the door. My friend Rhonda had come by to visit me. I told her what had happened and we walked to the Police Station nearby. I had your belt with me. The one you left behind. I went to the front counter, telling the officers behind the counter what had happened to me. They were laughing and playing cards at the time. I showed them your belt. They told me to bring you in if I saw you again. I left with Rhonda and took a bath at the where place she lived. We didn’t talk about what happened. We moved in together shortly after that. I sent a telegram to my father and stepmother about what had happened to me. Nobody came to help me. Rhonda helped me when I got hepatitis A and could no longer go to school. I was on my own when it came to figuring out how to return to the Bay Area. I moved in with my father and stepmother. They didn’t talk to me about what happened to me. They sent me to a doctor who diagnosed me with type 1 diabetes. He showed me how to give myself insulin injections. He told me to practice by injecting oranges with empty syringes. My mother told me years later that “You were never the same again” after what you did to me. I survived. I gave up art for 15 years before realizing that I wanted to go back to art school. In those years, I became so disturbed that I had panic attacks, deep depression and needed to move in with my mother at age 30. I started therapy after becoming self destructive in my 20’s. Depression also called “the blues” has been my long time companion. It has taken me a lifetime to heal. My iPhone predicts the words, depression, PTSD and C-PTSD for my text messages. After my Indigo dyeing class at San Francisco State, I enrolled in the Textiles Fine Art program at California College of Arts and Crafts (now known as California College of the Arts) in Oakland. I was married at the time and had become pregnant with our daughter Emily right before classes started in September. Emily was born on May 13, 1991. By the Fall of 1992, I was a single mom and an art student. An inheritance from my mother who died in 1995, allowed me to graduate and to buy my first home. I continued to work with indigo dyeing and created a large textile piece about my experience in Mexico. After many years of therapy and other healing modalities, I recently started painting on canvas. Part of that process has been a Soul Retrieval session to bring back my 4 year old self who loved to paint. I am feeling uplifted and encouraged after many years of recurring periods of severe emotional pain. Stay tuned for more details about my new work. One of my final pieces was a textile called “Out of the Blues.”
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I returned to fine art in 1990 when I took at class in indigo dyeing at San Francisco State University. I was lucky that the instructor, Yoshiko Wada, and another student from her class, were in the East Bay so that we could carpool together. We would talk textiles on...
December 2nd, 2020

Mrs

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I think I may have been raped, nearly 20 years ago. I was staying at my boyfriends house (now ex) at the time. We were young (17) and I was a virgin as we’d decided to wait to progress our relationship. One night I stayed over at his parents house,...
July 29th, 2013

Why: A Poem About My Rape

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Soothe my whys with soft whispers Wipe my tears with your love Make me whole again No more, I beg No more No more Unwanted touch Unwelcomed Stiff, rough caresses No man to hold me down, Give me forbidden kisses Legs forced apart Like rusty hinges Hinges to a door...
August 30th, 2019

My story growing up with a secret

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I’m a black South African, I’m 40 years old now, and my son it 20 years old… loved, taught but I still can never live him alone with my nieces as I was left alone and violeted💔💔😭😭 I have spoken about this, but I hate putting this down in writting😭😭...
August 13th, 2022

Scammer

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This is my story; Being a fan of a few Korean actors and follow them trough a fan page is a great way to be updated for all the in’s and out’s. Especially you can share these with more admires all over the world, we all admire these amazing actors....
August 16th, 2020

Does the pain ever go away?

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I really don’t know how to write this but I do want to try. I’ve been reading these stories for a while and have wanted to write my own but every time I try it’s too hard to actually put words down… I don’t know why this keeps happening. Every...
August 17th, 2019

My/our German “Weinstein” Case

6
My name is Jany Tempel. I live both in Germany and Thailand. I turned public now, to end the big silence of our country. Almost twenty years ago I had already written a novel about my arduous life. The book wasn’t published back then, mainly because I reported on crimes...
October 12th, 2023

Workplace Sexual Harassment

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As I write this story to you, please note that this sexual harassment case is still in progress. It began in December of 2022 when I worked as a contractor for a company named TEKsystems. I do IT work for Nutrien Ag Solutions. The first week I was there, I...
December 26th, 2023

Daycare Teacher

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To understand this story easier I want you to know I am trans, female to male. When I was a kid I had this daycare teacher. She was everyones favourite, all the kids loved her. I did too. I don’t remember her name, but I do remember she only had...
August 16th, 2020

Does the pain ever go away?

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I really don’t know how to write this but I do want to try. I’ve been reading these stories for a while and have wanted to write my own but every time I try it’s too hard to actually put words down… I don’t know why this keeps happening. Every...
August 26th, 2020

Stranger, Friend, Lawyer, and Youth Leader

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People have accused me of being a liar and the one with whom the fault lies… repeatedly. They use statistics to give themselves a platform to shame me or to feel better about their lives, because they don’t want to face reality. The reality is that statistics are not always...
August 29th, 2020

Why you should talk to your daughters...

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At 16 I began dating my first serious boyfriend. I kept it a secret from my mom since she made it feel like I couldn’t talk to her about anything, love, sex, school, nothing. I had recently turned 16 and he was 17 at the time. We went to the...
October 9th, 2022

When My Body Wasn’t Mine.

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I remember the times where my body wasn’t mine. When you grabbed my barely developing body forcefully. And my small body with little to no strength could not fight back. Could not take away your hands from places that were supposed to be private. Places that were supposed to be...
July 19th, 2021

Child sexual abuse

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My child’s father has been sexually abusing her since she was 3 months old.
June 19th, 2022

I didn’t even know I was pregnant

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When I was thirteen I had one friend. I had a selective mutism and non-white in a very unsafe households, with a single absent mother who was debting, and I was bullied in school. I was already sexually abused every night by my biological father, and was constantly dissociated from...
May 7th, 2022

I never thought it could happen to...

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I had graduated from college. I was on a high- thinking I will conquer the world. the world conquered me that night. I had no idea what would happen. I am grateful to be here today. I was out celebrating my graduation and friends graduation. We went to a local...
April 11th, 2020

This is my story

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When I was 12 years old, my mother’s partner at the time who I called dad who had raised me for the past 5-8 years decided he would rape me multiple times until I was 15, until I told my mother. She supported me in every way imaginable and made...
June 24th, 2020

Too naïve

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I was 16. I had my first job, a lifeguard. I was so excited. I have been a swimmer since I was 5 so this was a very fitting job for me. I was the youngest person working there by far. Most of the kids were in college and one...
August 25th, 2020

Confusion

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I am confused. My grandpa always kisses me hugs me and touches me in my hand. But today he touched me two times on my butt. was it accidental? was it out of love because he just sees me as a kid? or was it meant something bad and I...
October 10th, 2021

Is this normal?

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It all started in Febuary 17th 2020. My first boyfriend. At first he was sweet, he’d walk me to school, compliment me, ask me for consent every time he touhed me. But then the honeymoon phase wore off right after he took my virginity 3 months in. He started belittling...
August 26th, 2019

Family members ex husband

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I was 5 years old going through heart surgery when he would come home late from work drunk, or high or his normal scary self and he would come into my room and put his hands down my pants and feel my butt I would act like I couldn’t feel...
August 18th, 2019

Abusée par un voisin de mes grands...

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Bonjour chère Linor, Je suis en train de regarder Brave Miss World. Merci! Je témoigne car j’en ai peu parlé dans ma vie. J’avais 4 ou 5 ans. Je vivais avec mes grands-parents et ils me posaient parfois le samedi chez la voisine qui me gardait pour aller à un...
September 13th, 2019

He was right

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I was dating this older man for about over 3 months and I was very happy with this person and we made so much happy memories in such a short time but long story short it just did not work out. He did not want to break up but I...
December 4th, 2022

The Pedophiles’ Paradise

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I am sharing my story because I care about their children and yours too. I was raised in a religious society that experts call The Pedophiles’ Paradise. It has the largest pedophile list in the world which it withholds from the appropriate authorities. I was sexually abused by three adult...
July 18th, 2019

His name was Kenneth

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I was 13. He was 25. I had just came out the closet. I had met him on MySpace, back when that was popular and it seemed like we clicked. I thought I was ready to be in a relationship with a grown men, but like most teenagers I didnt...
April 27th, 2019

Everyone Else Likes You, Too

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I had never been to a bar before. Sure, I’d gone out to Applebees with other coworkers where they’d serve me drinks. But I was 19, and had to drive home. I had never been drunk before, and didn’t push my limits. I went to the bar to see him...