by Band Back Together | May 10, 2016 | Anxiety, Fear, Guilt, Rape/Sexual Assault, Sexual Coercion, Teen Sexuality |
About a week and a half ago, I did something that I regret so very deeply that it’s consuming my life. To give you a bit of background, I’m a 17 year old girl. A senior in high school who’s always been known as a good girl; the nice girl. I’ve always gotten good grades, practices good judgement, and has bright future ahead of her.
There’s a boy – a freshman – at my school, who I’ll call Jake. We’d had a kind of jokey, flirty relationship. Sure, he’s cute, but I knew from the start that he was bad news, plus he’s four years younger than me.
One night, he asked me if I wanted to come over to chill with him and his friend Adam. I made the mistake of sneaking out of the safety of my own house to go see him.
I made it very clear beforehand that I was not looking to do anything sexual with him, and he reassured me that he just wanted to chill and smoke some cigarettes.
I told my other freshman guy friend, Matthew, what was going on, and he warned me not to go because he was afraid I’d get raped. It’s not that I didn’t take him seriously, but I took it as an exaggeration.
I was smart, rape wouldn’t happen to me.
But still, once I’d snuck out, Matthew suggested I come pick him up and we could drive around and talk.
I knew hanging out with Jake was a bad idea because I don’t even smoke. I drove past Jake’s house, contemplating just going back home, before I finally decided to just do it. When I got to his room, Jake was playing video games and Adam was lying on the bed, using his phone.
I sat down on the bed and we talked for a bit before Jake handed me a cigarette. I politely refused, but he eventually convinced me to take just a puff of his.
After that I refused any more. Adam asked me to come cuddle, which I brushed off as a joke. Then they brought up my ex – still a bit of a sore spot. Adam asked if we were still dating, to which I said no. He said, “Well then, come cuddle with me.”
I agreed because I thought, “Why not? Fuck my ex.”
Well, eventually, he started getting handsy. I’d push his hand away each time, but he was persistent. He moved my hand to his crotch, and I would try to pull away, but he kept pushing it back.
It was never really forceful, just very persistent.
I kept saying “no” and “stop.”
He kept asking over and over if I’d perform sexual favors for him. He even tried to shove my head down toward his penis a few times. I kept refusing, and he’d always ask why.
I felt that I didn’t really owe him an explanation, so I would either say “Because,” or I would tell him that he was too young for me. He would say “Because why” and I would say “I don’t know.” He would ask how I didn’t know and I would just turn away. Then he would repeat this over and over. It was just plain annoying.
He continued to try and touch me.
Each time I moved his hand away, he got more persistent. Long story short, I eventually gave up and just let it happen. I ended up giving him a hand job, and letting him finger me. I wanted to stop, but he flat out told me I was not allowed to leave until he came.
Jake was in the room the entire time, and although he asked multiple times if I wanted to come see something or do something else, he didn’t do anything to stop Adam, even though I clearly did not want to be doing this.
After I left there, I wasn’t entirely aware of what had just happened. All I could think was “What have I done?” and “Why did I let that happen?”
After doing further research, I’ve determined that I was sexually coerced, which can be a form of sexual assault.
I’m having a lot of trouble coping with this.
I feel dirty, I feel like a whore, even though I know that I’m not. I’ve never had sex. I’ve never even given a blowjob. The only other person I’ve ever done these things with was my ex, and it was completely consensual.
I’m so beyond upset that I let this happen to me. These sexual acts are things that are supposed to be special, not something that I’d let just anyone do.
But I did.
I let this stupid, douchebag, horny freshman boy do this to me. I know that it was not my fault that it happened, but I can’t help but feel so, so, so guilty. Guilty that I snuck out, guilty I’d even gone there in the first place.
Matthew warned me beforehand, for Christ’s sake. I could have hung out with him and everything would be perfectly fine right now. But instead, I’m consumed by regret and guilt and all of these awful feelings, and I’m stuck.
I feel like I can’t enjoy anything anymore because all of this is just looming over me. The only person who knows what happened, besides Jake and Adam, is Matthew. I constantly replay it in my mind, and I constantly want to talk about it with him, and I feel like I’m bothering him.
I feel like everyone would be so ashamed of me if they knew what happened. I want to tell them so badly, but my friends would look down on me, and my mother would be so incredibly disappointed. It would break her heart if she knew I was sexually assaulted. And I’m scared that no guy will be able to respect me again.
How will I handle a future relationship?
Do I tell him that this happened to me, or do I pretend like it never happened?
Will he judge me?
It was just one mistake, but I don’t know how I’m going to live with myself. I can’t help but feel like I’m smarter than this. I should have been smarter than to go over there, smarter than to let this happen.
But it happened, and I can’t change the past.
I need help dealing with this.
I’ve been acting like everything’s okay with the hope that eventually, it will feel that way. But it just seems so hard to believe that it ever will.
I want the anxiety to stop. I want to know that I will feel okay again. I have so much to look forward to; college next year, but I feel this is something that will drag me down forever.
I never thought of myself as the victim, but now that I am, what do I do?
by Band Back Together | May 9, 2016 | Anxiety, Child Grooming, Child Sexual Abuse, Depression, Fear, Guilt, Shame |
I’m currently 22 years old, and for so long, I felt as if I had my childhood taken from me.
Before I explain my story, I do want to say that I didn’t realize that my mind was capable of taking what had happen to me and hiding it away inside me.
I still felt guilt and random depression … yet I thought I was ‘over’ it.
I was not.
Once you understand what is bothering you, it can be fixed.
When I was a little girl, around the age of 6, I looked up to my uncle. He’d take me to the store all the time to pick out whatever I wanted, he let me eat candy when my mom wouldn’t have been okay with it, he stood up for me if I was in trouble, and he showed me attention when most of my family didn’t at that time.
I loved my uncle, and he had gained my trust. He was the kind of guy you could count on. He was always being there for everyone. He was the man who you could call at 3AM if your car broke down, and he would come help you – maybe even buy you a new car.
Well, little did I know, being so young, that it was all nothing but a setup … a setup that took years of gaining everyone’s trust, going to church every Sunday, gaining a reputation as a well-known man of the community, with many people who looked up to him.
I don’t recall the exact day the child sexual abuse began but I do remember being told that I could trust him.
He’d say things like, “I’m helping you,” and “I’d never hurt you.” For a while, he didn’t touch me, but he’d gained my trust, expecting that I wouldn’t tell anyone about the child sexual abuse.
I didn’t tell a soul.
At first, I was so young that I felt as if something was just kinda … off, but I wasn’t sure if it was wrong or not.
The child sexual abuse went on for years.
Every time the kids’ cartoon Tom and Jerry would come on TV, he’d have me go into the den and lay on the couch. His wife would normally be cooking in the kitchen or off doing something during that time.
There were glass mirrors in the TV stand that he would open a certain way if his wife was home, so he could see her reflection off the glass if she was coming that way.
He would make me lay on my belly while he touched and rubbed my body. He never had sexual intercourse with me.
This would go on for years, almost every single day. He always complimented me while he would touch, and after a while I finally started to realize that what he was doing to me was wrong.
Even then, after years of having dealt with that man, I still was scared to tell anyone … mainly because I knew the family loved him.
He’d won everyone over, and I thought nobody would believe me so I had to act like everything was fine.
I remember running from him the last time he tried to sexually abuse me and I told him I was going to tell the woman who lived across from him as his wife was gone that day.
My mind will not allow me to remember what he did or said but I didn’t leave. I didn’t go back to his house after that day. I talked my mom into letting me ride the school bus to a friend’s house instead of my uncle’s.
I didn’t explain why.
I still held in what happen to me, and I didn’t tell until I turned 18 years old. I was working at a new job, in which I had to be around new people and older men, which gave me flashbacks to my childhood. I called my mother and finally told her the truth. We kept it to ourselves, it felt better to at least tell someone what happen.
Then, as I got older, I was put on medication to cope with depression and anxiety. I never understood why until I went back to his house to get my closure with him; to FINALLY him how I felt.
By this point, I was an adult with a child of my own and a fiancée. I went into his home by myself, while a close friend waited in the car. I walked in ready to get it over with.
At this point the man was now 80 years old, yet still was aware of what he done to me. I started my conversation by telling him that I wanted to understand why he did that to me, and I told him that what he did was wrong.
He actually admitted to what he did, yet wouldn’t apologize.
He told me that he saw nothing wrong with it. He also said me, “Well, you’re engaged, about to be married soon, so I see nothing wrong with it.“
Once he said that, my mouth dropped open.
He actually expected a thank you from me!
His eyes confirmed that. He had the audacity to explain that he’d groomed me as a child; that he prepared me for my future husband. I explained how wrong he was.
I made it very clear that he had nothing to do with my engagement, nor my life, aside from my anxiety issues. It seemed to surprise him that I’d said that. It seemed, in a way, to hurt him.
I never got my apology from that man, which wouldn’t have been a meaningful one anyway. However, I did leave that day feeling as if a weight was lifted off of me.
It made me view life better after getting to stand up for myself.
It may sound crazy, but just breathing felt good again. The trees looked more alive and beautiful than before. I could actually laugh with my friends and family without feeling like I was faking it all the time.
I realized that the sexual abuse wasn’t my fault. It’s never the child’s fault, no matter what. Adults know better, a child is still learning and understanding. It’s always wrong for any man to preform any sexual act on a child, whether it’s verbal or physical, it’s always wrong.
It’s going to cause you to think; it might out bring feelings you’ve hidden for years, that just come out of the blue. And yet, I firmly believe that you can overcome the madness.
You’ll probably never understand why it happened. Being abused as a child makes the saying that “everything happens for a reason” feel untrue. I believe there’s an end to all bad.
There’s also karma, which I believe will be much more powerful then him answering to me.
There is a definition for “grooming.” Being groomed for child sexual abuse does exist, and it is wrong.
Never be afraid to speak, run, tell your doctor, teacher, someone you know can – and will – help.
There can be a stop to the childhood sexual abuse. Never believe the lies of the ones who want to bring you down or hurt you.
by Band Back Together | May 6, 2016 | Abuse, Divorce, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Fear, Guilt, Infidelity, Romantic Relationships, Unemployment |
Hello The Band,
I am a 33 year old female from Florida. I have turned to this site for guidance, support, and hopefully, help. I’m hoping I can find other women who can relate to my situation, help me understand how to cope and deal with the problems at hand, and, if possible, guide me in the right direction.
I met my current boyfriend on an online dating site back in July of 2015. I was with my ex-husband for 13, years and we have one child together. That relationship was a disaster towards the end. I honestly didn’t think I could ever fall in love again – until I met my current boyfriend.
In September, we decided that because of the distance between where we both lived, moving in with him was a good option. Driving back and forth was killing me.
Everything was amazing for the first five months.
There were little spurts of anger here and there about silly things like the dog barking too much or the dishes not being clean enough, but I figured this was just the kinds of little idiosyncrasies that come from being in a new relationship.
In December, I lost my job. I have not been able to contribute a whole lot to the household since then, but every dime I do make, I give to him – including my government assistance.
Lately, he has started making comments that I do nothing, that I’m useless, that all I do is sit around, that I’m overweight and need to exercise. I would never say such horrible things to him.
I feel like the comments are getting worse. Now he’s mad about every single thing. If he doesn’t have enough socks, it’s somehow my fault. If he cant find a clean pair of shorts that he likes for work, that’s my fault, too. He screams at me, and if I cry or tear up, he calls me a baby, a princess, or weak.
He tells me that without him I would have nothing.
When I was younger, I was in a relationship where I dealt with minor physical abuse, but I have never dealt with emotional and verbal abuse before. I almost wish he would just smack me instead of saying these hurtful things. I feel like the sting would be less and not last as long as the hurtful words he has been saying.
Now, he has stopped making love to me. He will never let me talk to him about how I am feeling. If i say “I am not okay with you talking to me like that,” he starts screaming that I am stupid for not knowing by now what pisses him off.
I feel so out of character lately. The old me would never have let anyone talk down to me like that. With him, I am quiet, timid, and I just stand there and take it.
Every time I build up the courage to speak up, I am shot down immediately. I feel so sad. I was sure this man was the one for me. I fell madly in love with him, and now I am scared I’m losing him. I don’t want this to happen. I want to make him happy, but the harder I try, the more things he finds wrong.
What should I do? Is what I’m feeling normal? Is this true verbal and emotional abuse?
Please, any words of advice, or help, or wisdom would be a blessing right now. I am so utterly distraught. I am scared of getting hurt anymore. I’m scared he will start cheating, which is my worst nightmare. I have a serious fear of being cheated on …I just need some friendly words.
Scared, Confused, and In Love.
by Band Back Together | May 6, 2016 | Abandonment, Abuse, Adult Children of Mentally Ill Parents, Anger, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Grief, Loneliness, Mental Health, Parent Loss, Parenting, Sadness |
Mental Illnesses are prevalent in our world. They greatly affect not only the individual involved, but the people around them. In the month of April, we focus our spotlight on Mental Health, in order to heal together and break down stigmas.
We want your stories. How has your own, or someone else’s mental illness affected your life? How are you rising above stigmas?
Please share your stories with us during the month of April.
Mum,
I am supposed to be heartbroken.
…and I am, but not for the reasons other people think.
When you go – I will mourn the life that could have been – the life you could have had, the life WE could have had; not the car crash it was – leaving nothing but broken people and devastation in its wake.
I will be sad for the “what if” and the “what could have been,” not the actuality. I’m not sad for the reality.
The reality is that your passing will set me free – to a certain extent – from my ‘you’ prison. I’ll still have to continue contending with the prison I built for myself, I know that, but, the direct pain of you will be no more.
People try to share with me, which is sweet and kind but, it makes me squirm and knocks my very thin rope of sanity a little. They tell me about their own experiences of losing a parent or grandparent and how sad they were and how they are there for me. They share things with me which they think will make me feel better – and it would – in an alternate universe, where you weren’t so horrible, and I wasn’t so messed up.
I kind of lie, and say ’“Thank you,” and pretend that I’m cut up about it, like they are about their own relatives passing, and I lie, and I lie, and I lie. Once again, I’m the weird outsider watching the world be normal while I’m in my own little weirdness bubble. What else can I say to them?
“Thanks so much for your kind words and your thoughts and wishes but, please – don’t waste them. She never loved me, and in turn, I’ve built a wall 7 feet tall. I spent my whole life trying to make her love me and it never worked, no matter what I did. This is not a normal ‘daughter losing her mother’ thing, so please – don’t hurt yourself remembering something painful to you in order to help me. Please, please don’t. ”
Sometimes I think I should cry, to look normal.
I nearly did cry the other day. I couldn’t bear to touch your skin with mine so I held your hand through the blanket, and you squeezed it. You squeezed my hand.
It was like throwing a starving person one sugar-free mint. Something wonderful and warm and meaningful but, at the same time empty – and too little – and far too late.
You hang on. Wasting away. I can almost identify every bone in your body. You rarely speak. You rarely wake now. Your body is breaking down, and even the nurses are praying you pass before the really ugly stuff starts happening.
But, you hang on …and on …and on…
I’m sorry you never got the life you wanted mum. I’m sorry it was so hard. I’m sorry you struggled with your own mind from childhood, and I’m sorry you made such awful, terrible, harmful choices. I’m sorry you experienced horrific things, and I’m sorry no one was ever there to protect you.
But, I’m angry you left me. You abandoned me whilst still being in front of me. I’m angry, sad, lost and hurt that you ignored me and chose others so much more favorably over me. The things you did to me, and said to me, and put me through were unforgivable. Some of the things still make me gasp a bit when I remember them because they were so cold and hard and callous; designed to hurt me and humiliate me and separate me. How could a mother treat their child like that?
I guess I don’t want other people’s sympathy because it’s not right. I’m not grieving over the prospective loss of you because, I’ve already been grieving your loss.
…since forever.
Safe journey, Mum.
by Band Back Together | May 6, 2016 | Date/Acquaintance Rape, Fear, Gang Rape, Guilt, Healing From A Rape or Sexual Asault, Intimate Partner Rape, Rape/Sexual Assault, Statutory Rape, Trust |
In the United States, every 107 seconds, someone is sexually assaulted. Four of every five sexual assaults are committed by someone known to the victim. 68% of all sexual assaults go unreported to the proper authorities.
Why? Why do so many sexual assaults go unreported?
Shame. Self blame. Embarrassment. Fear that no one would believe their story. Fear that they may have caused it. Not wanting to be the victim. Wanting to move past the sexual assault. There are a multitude of reasons why sexual assaults go unreported.
Just as there are a number of types of rape (gang rape, date/acquaintance rape, intimate partner rape, statutory rape, sexual assault), there are a multitude of responses to sexual assault. Each of which is completely normal.
This April, The Band Back Together Project is shining a light into the darkness of sexual assault. Please share your story of sexual assault so that we can Light the Darkness.
All are welcome.
Here I am, a year later.
It never really gets any easier. You just learn to live with it.
It was a year on 12/14 since the night that I was raped. I posted on this site a week or so after it happened and to me.
It was a silent cry for help.
I guess this is what this post is too …I know I need help. But I’m scared to get it.
How do I tell someone that I still don’t see myself when I look in the mirror?
How do I tell someone that I don’t trust a single man that I know or see because I’m terrified of what they will do to me if I give them my trust?
It’s been an entire year and I still can’t get over it.
When does it go away?
When do things get easier?
When will I be myself again?
by Band Back Together | May 5, 2016 | Anger, Anxiety, Date/Acquaintance Rape, Divorce, Guilt, Infidelity |
He was my friend, a coworker I trusted.
I have a boyfriend and kids.
Why was I at his house?
Why did I let him pay attention to me at all?
I shouldn’t have been there. It was my fault. I led him on, let him believe that I liked him.
Maybe I did. Maybe I did enjoy the rush of having a man fawn over me like I was something special. I’ve never been treated that way before.
My ex-husband cheated on me and replaced me without looking back. He filed for divorce on our seventh wedding anniversary, saying our marriage “didn’t mean anything anymore.”
And I guess it didn’t. Not to him.
I was tossed aside like trash.
My current boyfriend of 4 years lets me in, then pushes me away. It’s a constant cycle, a roller-coaster of emotions.
Finally, on December 4, 2015, I gave up fighting for him.
I accepted the offer from this man, my friend, my confidant at work. He was nearly 20 years older and told me repeatedly how beautiful I was. He fed my bruised ego. I let him. I went to his house, and I stood in his kitchen, crying about the man I loved who had pushed me away again.
He walked behind me and pushed himself against me, trapping me against the counter. He pushed his hand down my pants, and I said, “NO!” I went to get my shoes and purse. He pushed me down and pulled my pants and underwear down.
He forced himself inside of me.
I said, “NO!” I pushed him off of me and he grabbed my head and pushed his dick in my mouth. I nearly vomited and jerked myself away.
I SAID NO!
I ran to the bathroom and locked the door.
I got out of the house and tried to block the memory out – until I saw him at work the following week. He told me that he thought I would be more “accommodating.”
I didn’t call it rape. I felt guilty and full of shame. After all, I went there. I led him on. I “had sex” with him. Sometimes the logical side kicks in and says, no. You didn’t do anything wrong.
It’s not your fault. You didn’t “have sex.”
He raped you.
He stole something from you.
Until that day, I’d only had sex with two men, my husband and my boyfriend. I was a 35 year old woman who trusted someone. I hid my feelings and apologized for my actions.
I didn’t go to the police right away. It took over a month. The only thing that gave me the courage was to look at my little girls.
How could I possibly teach them that no means no? I said no. It didn’t matter. And now I have to learn to live with it.
I’m scared all the time.
