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Ashamed. ***Trigger Warning**** Please take care of you!!!

Trauma Support / by Ashti92

August 16th, 2016

...See more "The enemy doesn't stand a chance, when the victim decides to survive." Eight years old, that's how old I was when I first got molested. Yes I know it's such a terrible word, but yes I was molested right outside my house, eight years of age when a man first decided to steal my innocence by shoving his hands up my skirt and into my body. Eight years old, when he penetrated me for the first time, kissed me, made me feel uncomfortable and all right outside my home. When I was 11 years old, I fell in love, I know you must wonder how an 11 year old can be in love, but I was. It was the purest, most innocent love, when whe kissed (light peck on the lips) my world changed. And when it was over, my world collapsed. I was between 11-14 years of age when I was used as an object of sexual gratification to a man almost 20 years my senior. A man with a wife, who lived 2 minutes away, and a daughter whom I had played with, who ate breakfast at my dinning table. While we played with little toys, her father played with me, as his little toy... Over three years, two abusers, and countless accounts of penetration both digitall and orally, I lost myself. With each incident a piece of my soul was taken away from me, never to be returned again. A part of my body used for purposes no child should ever undergo. 13 years old and I felt a shame I cannot even explain. Have you ever had that dream where your suddenly falling off a mountain and you can't stop? I haven't. That dream has been the story of my life. I was 8 years old when it began, and 13/14 years when it ended, however even today over 10 years later I am not "Over it." 3 Abusers, 6 years of abuse (not continously), 5 years of silence, 7 therapists later, I'm still standing. When you look at me, you can't imagine what I've bee through. When you look at me, you don't know my story, you don't know me. But I am your sister, your friend, your mother, your cousin, I am male or female, but above all I am a survivor of sexual abue. And the worst part is, it doesn't end with the abuse. Being sexually abused is on the tip of our iceberg. Today, 10 years after, I am here to talk about those things no one wants to say.I was sexually abused by three men, they molested, abused and finally raped me. In MY house, where I lived, now I have no family and no home. I was 16 years old when I ended up with a stranger for the first time. What were we doing? We were sneaking around, now to you this might seem totally normal for a 16 year old, it is. However as a sexual abuse survivor, most people might not know as a victim we end up in one of the two extremes. Some sexually abused children become very sexually promiscuous, hypersexual, or in extreme cases can even become child abusers or prostitutes, or have other serious sexual problems when they reach adulthood. Some adults will struggle with not making a connection between intimacy and sex. At 16 years old, I was just trying to be normal like everyone else. But the funny thing is, no matter how hard i tired i could never be intimate. It's only when you finally start trying to get out there nad being the sexual being you are designed to be, do you realize just how sexually broken you have become. At 16 years old, I realized just how sexually broken I was. My abuser had penetrated my body at 8 years old, leaving me helpless. As i lay undressed along side another boy, my age, I felt an anger I had never before known. Sexual abuse, its about power, but sex, its about intimacy. I was no longer a victim, and not exactly a survivor. I was confused, wouldn't you be? At sixteen all I wanted was to kiss this boy, like all the other girls were doing, but I couldn't. Because at 8 years old, when I was molested a man kissed me and stole my right to an awesome first kiss. He made it disgusting and gross and perverse. Lying next to his naked body, watching his chest rise up and down, his hair, his legs, his muscular thighs, all I could wonder was why I couldn't be like those others, why couldn't I be. At 16 years old I had realized that someone had stolen my innocence, my virginity and my right to be a sexual being. For years I lay in bed each night, crying myself to sleep. Why couldn't I be like my friends? Why had god made me go through thiese life altering moments? Why had the universe forced me to experience evils, I cannot even explain. When you're sexually abused, every waking minute of every waking day you try to stay in control. Because if you're not in control, you're susceptible, not to disease but to getting hurt. Because that time you trusted another human being so deeply, they stole your body, they defiled you and left you helpless and alone. In a quest to be in power, feel some control, I went from 2 years of "I will never have sex" to hyper sexuality, the other extreme. I remmeber that day, barely two years ago, I met him online, on a dating site. We decided the next evening to meet for coffee. A few nights later I snuck out to be with him. Our night began in the bedroom, kissing, holding hands, gently stroking each others dressed bodies. Suddenly everything changed, we were passionate, we were going at it like two wild dogs, we were suddenly undressed. Me on the bed, him on top of me, it was passionate it was sexy, and then IT happened. Healthy adults, teenagers, anyone in a loving relationship would enjoy a man/woman engaging in oral stimulations. They would feel extreme pleasure and show intense love. However, I am not a healthy adult. I was not a healthy adult in that moment when I had my first trigger. One moment I was immensely into it, the next minute I was experiencing my first trigger. (Talk about a buzz kill) For those of you who are not sexual abuse survivors, "childhood sexual abuse survivors often have things that trigger memories of the abuse. These triggers can include things like gynecological exams, childbirth, sexual touch from partners, certain smells, some colors, types of furniture or cars, can bring back memories that hold feelings about the abuse. These triggers can be very vivid and painful for a sexual assault survivor." Being an adult survivor of sexual abuse is not easy, whether the abuse was recent or in childhood, a survivor of abuse struggles immensly with issues that are often mundane and natural to another. To close that story, that poor boy was kicked out of bed, no explanations, grabbed his clothes and pushed out the door, as for me, I was on the floor crying for hours. =( As a sexual abuse survivor sometimes you just have to take it one day at a time. I wished everyday of my lfie that this was NOT my life. All I ever wanted as a child was to be an adult, ut now all i want is to be "Normal." What does it feel like to be abused? I wish I could explain but I can't. Over the years I have struggled with things I only wish I didn't. The memories, they come up whenever they want to, and its funny how the world can say just make it stop, or you're letting it happen, but to anyone who has not been sexually abused, please keep your opinions to yourself. We survivors of sexual abuse, can go from totally happy to totally destroyed in a matter of seconds. Someone entered my body and screwed me day after day for years, he took away my virginity, my right to safety and now you're telling me to "Make it stop?" Well who the f**k will make them stop? As victims of abuse, we are not always out right threatenend, however we are told this is our secret, our shame, our fault, we are shamed for what we may have worn, I was 8?! What was I wearing to make him wanna pin me down, unzip me and begin to penentrate me? I often have heard people say but why didn't you tell someone? And this is another thing I'd like to address, why don't you shut the hellup? Victims of abuse don't need to feel any more guilt, cause trust ME we're carrying enough around for a life time. Abusers they get away with making us feel shame feel dirity, feel disgusting, worthless pieces of garbage And we believe it because we have nothing else to believe. About 5 months ago, I logged onto a popular app for meeting guys. Again I'm 20+ and wanted to be like the women and men of my day and age. I met a young man only a few years older and we ended up chatting for a day or two. The following week we went out for dinner. An hour later we ended up in my car, his hands undressing me as I drove around looking for a dark spot for us. =/ Cause god forbid I bring a hook up home. What would the watchman think? What would the niehgbours think? That night he went down on me in the front seat of my car, while I was in the drivers seat. Any woman would be thrilled to have this happenign to them am I right? Well I was, then I wasn't. Some people struggle with sounds, smells as triggers, well, some others struggle with the most intimate triggers, for me, the first trigger was him going down on me, the second was being unable to achieve any level of pleasure without feeling absolutely slutty, ashamed and guilty. =( I know you don't know me, but I feel totally exposed right now. I have let you into my body, into my mind and into my soul. But I didn't do this for you, I did it for me. As a young woman, and a survivor of long term sexual abuse, I want to educate you. I want you to know the struggles that come with being a survivor. As a result, of prolonged sexual abuse we may struggle in relationships. We may put the needs of our partner well before our own. During sexual acts as an adult, body memories may flood the body, interfering with the ability to have normal sexual relationships, may make the survivor scared, ashamed, and frustrated. I am a 20+ year old woman, and a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. I have been molested, abused and raped in my own home by men I knew. I cannot have sexual relationships to date, am unable to hook up. I am unable to visit a gynaecologist because I don't want to be vulnerable againI have continuously attempted to self explore in an effort to regain comfort with my body, however each body is different and it takes time to recover. And like many victims of sexual abuse, I find it difficult to orgasm or ‘let go even when they are in a safe, healthy relationship, my body and mind have been in long term disconnection. According to the internet Shame is defined as, "a painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behaviour." Any and all survivors of any kind of abusive situation can you they feel ashamed. But why do we feel ashamed? We didn't do anything wrong, so why do we have to bring shame to the table? When you're sexually abused, its like someone has entered you most literally and stolen everything you know. They have not just penetrated your physical body, but have penetrated through your mind, leaving behind the most atrocious scars. Ask them, and a majority of victims will tell you it was not a STRANGER but someone they knew who abused them. Like many victims, I too was raped in my bed, in my house where I slept, where my family slept, where a family stayed. But now, that is not a home, it is four walls where I am a victim to the endless memories. When you looked at me you couldn't see the scars, there were no cuts or brusies. No indications of any kind of abuse. Sometimes the worst kind of abuser, is not the violent, obnxious, physically obvious one, it is the silent, known adult lurking in the shadows. Where other's have monsters under their beds, this unseen, unheard monster is one who everyone knows, but no one see's. My abuser had 24X7 access to our home. To the home where I lived, he took a house, and turned into a brothel, making me his personal hooker. Yes I was 11 years old and I was a sex toy. I was 14 years old and I was a sex toy, because an abuser, they don't care about your age, unlike what society says, its NOT about what you wear, not who you go out with or when, its about what they want. We may look whole, but on the inside we're broken. We seem depressed, but somewhere we are hopeful. Someone took away my right to sex, to intimacy, pleasure and to myself. There was no one to tell and no where to hide. I kept the pain within myself while a part of me died. I should be over it, but I'm not, it haunts me everyday. Just the act of sharing a painful secret, can relieve some of the pain. "There is only one sin. and that is theft. When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. And when you rape another, abuse a child, you steal thier rights to love, intimacy and everything that is pure and natural. I am not what happened to me, and I will NOT let you take away how I feel, you were NOT there and until you have been sexually assaulted please don't try to begin to understand me. I am not a victim of sexual abuse, I am a survivor, and I will keep fighitng. Just because the war is over, doesn't mean the scars have healed. "Shame should be reserved for the things we choose to do, Not the circumstances that life puts on us. Shame is the lie someone told you about yourself."

Closure. *trigger warning*

Trauma Support / by Ashti92

June 14th, 2016

...See more Dear Abuser, If you ask me how old, Id tell you I was between 8-9 years old when it started. If you ask, how many, Id tell you three perpetrators. If you ask how long, Id say 2-3 years, although my memory says maybe it was a little more, but I cant remember that far back, because someone stole my memory. I should have been out in the garden playing with friends my own age, I should have been riding the swing and sliding the slides. Rolling around in mud and getting down and dirty, oh wait I was. Do you remember? I do. While youre daughter was out playing, I was inside, playing with you. Or do you not remember? I wish I could say you dont know me, but you know me all too well. Youve been inside me, thats why were here today. Most people who know they were abused, have some sort of proof. But you were smart, you were oh so smart. Where I could have had thousands of scratches and bruises, you left not a scar. You left me whole, but little did people know I was broken. You slipped in and out, you snaked your way into me, you held me, felt me, but never hurt me. Or so you think. So many years gone by, and yet close my eyes and it feels like yesterday. My first time, do you remember it? I do. I remember every time you walked in me, every time you held me, every time you made me think you were someone to trust, but I soon realized then what I know now, that you were just a pervert, something was and is wrong with you. I used to look into the mirror and like what I see, but for years Ive looked into the mirror and I dont recognize the person staring back at me. I used to be carefree, now Im terrorized. I used to believe in fairy tales, now I dont know what to believe anymore. You may think its about you, but thats not true. Its not that I dont want to expose you, no, this time its about me. Im not going to expose myself. This isnt about YOU. Its all about Me. Who am I? Well thats something you wont have the pleasure of knowing. I am the woman you raped behind the dumpster when no one was looking. I am the child you lured into the school closet to feel up. I am the little girl who you were meant to protect, the one you used and abused. I am the one you slowly broke, the one you held close, who you felt outside and within. I am the one you broke, but you might have won then, but I wont let you win again. I will NOT let you hurt me anymore. When I leave you will not come with me. When I walk in the dark, you will not lurk in the shadows behind me. When I lock my doors at night, you will not find your way into my bed again. You may think you broke me, and for a long time you did. You took everything that made me, me and shattered it. You bent me until I could bend no more. You felt me, till I could feel no more. Before you came along I was someone, I was somebodys child, somebodys sister, somebodys friend, but you broke me. Like a thousand piece of shattered glass you left me to pick up the broken pieces of my life. You left me with years of depression, hours of suicidal tendencies. You left me standing on the side of the road waiting, waiting for that light to flicker, to go green, for the traffic to move, and for me to move with it. Maybe you dont remember me, maybe I just a number on your list, but I will ALWAYS remember you. Remember that time we were driving home in the car, you shoved your hands down my uniform and said oh its just a game. Remember the time you made me lie on the bed, naked, broken, confused and alone? I do. Remember how you used me, played games with my head, made me believe I wanted this!? Well I didnt. You hear me now, I DIDNT. You took away EVERYTHING. You took away pieces of me I didnt even know existed. You STOLE my first kiss, you stole my right to intimacy, you stole my right to sex, you STOLE every part of me, over and over again, but I wont let you steal my soul. I WILL NOT let you take away anymore. You ripped me open, day after day, you tore me apart. But not once did I change your mind, you took away my faith and stole my heart. You let me believe this was in my head, taking away my power and shame, leaving me lifeless in my own bed. You brought me shame, it wasnt mine to keep, but I couldnt give it away, even after you left. What had I done to deserve such fate? To have you call my name, have your fingers with me, against my will, to have so much regret and so many holes to fill. Do you know what a trigger is? I didnt either, but I had to learn. Your disgusting smoky breath, your hands inside me, the times you made me watch as you made me scream, silently, disgustedly, you watched as you made me scream, not in pleasure, but in pain. You used my body against me, you let me believe I betrayed myself, I didnt want it, but you made me believe it was all my fault! What kind of monster are you? You stole from me, you left to believe I was special in all the wrong ways, you left me cry myself to sleep for endless days. What was it all for? What did you gain from it? You took everything that makes me a woman, you started with an innocent child and ended with a broken woman. So you enjoy feeling up young girls? Raping women? You probably loved fooling around with the boys too! Youre not a human, youre an animal. You may not remember, but I will always remember how you raped me, over and over again. And where was your wife? Only a short distance away. You think youre so smart, you think you got away with it, and maybe you did. I trusted you, I thought you were on my side, but that was never true. You broke me in ways I didnt even know how. But I wont let you steal my rights no longer, this has to end now. I protected you for years, and Ill never know why. I was never ready to tell my friends or my parents. YOU watched them fall apart, you watched them as they moved away, but that wasnt enough. You needed more, you needed a new way to hurt, and you were an animal looking for his next prey. I wasnt a victim of opportunity, I wasnt a deer running through the forest, I was just there. Your new toy, something to sink your teeth, and hands and tongue into. If I told them, I would see the fear on their faces, and mine would multiply by tenfold, so instead I pretended the whole thing wasnt real I tried, I tried so hard for years to forget. And for almost four to five years, I did. I had no clue what happened, except you know the thing about memory? Its impossible to erase. What you did, I couldnt erase. It all came back, every dirty, perverse, retarded thing you did. Your family may never know, your friends may never know, the world may never know, but I will ALWAYS know. I will always know what you said, what you did, I will always know what you took from me. For years, I didnt talk, I would eat too much or not at all. I didnt sleep, I cried myself to bed night after night, I cried in the shower, on the way to college, on the way home. All I did was cry. When I started to drive I would drive endlessly for hours trying to make sense of what happened to me. Trying to understand, replaying every thought, every action. I was so in the past, I hadnt realized the damage I was doing in the present. You left me feeling guilty for years, the guilty might fade away, but it may never leave. But the truth is Im not GUILTY, you ARE! I may never have been able to take you to court, but I have made my peace with that. I will make peace, I will grow stronger, I will cry the first time I find someone I love, I will hurt, I will need to stop, I will discover myself as I go on. I will learn to grow, to go on, to reach new heights and go new places. I have slowly stopped being a victim, I will go on as a survivor, I will make it my mission to take down perverts, like you. I will stop being that little girl you raped, but you will ALWAYS be a PERVERT. The world may never know, but I will always know what you did. A life, one life, you think about your life, your wife, your kids, but you forget about mine. You are the cause, and now like millions of women and men, I am the effect. You made me go through hell, even when you were finished with me. I never said NO, but I never said YES.. You pinned me down, you were stronger, and you won. You devastated my life, you sent me spiraling down. You lost nothing, but me, I lost everything. My damage was unseen, hidden, I will carry it with me for a lifetime to come. You took away parts of me I never knew I had. You stole my worth, my time, my safety, my right to intimacy and to everything thats meant to be natural and good. For a while, I believed that this was all I was. I had to force myself to relearn my real name, my identity. To relearn that this is not all that I am. My independence, natural joy, gentleness, and steady lifestyle I had been enjoying became distorted beyond recognition. My life was put on hold for years, my structure had collapsed. You will never have an idea of hard I worked, how much time energy and money Ive spent. How many tears Ive shed and men Ive fooled around with. You took an innocent child, and turned me into a frustrated, confused adult. You took away my right to intimacy, so I ended up in bed with strangers finding the same. I didn't want anyones pity and am still learning to accept victim as part of my identity. You made my own home the most uncomfortable place to be. You cannot give me back my sleepless nights. The way I have broken down sobbing uncontrollably, the times Ive thought about swerving that wheel just a little to farther to the right, the times Ive stood by the edge of the road waiting for the traffic lights to change. The times Ive cried endlessly holding a blade to my wrists, falling asleep praying that I wouldnt be able to see the morning light. You took away over 10 years of my life, you took away my right to intimacy, you took away my right to safety, but one day, somewhere and somehow I hope someone takes away your rights too. I know they say forgiveness is the key to happiness, but I cannot forgive. I will NOT forgive you. You do not deserve my forgiveness, you deserve to burn in hell. I will never forgive you, but I will slowly learn to forgive myself. I will spend every new day learning how to be me, whoever that may be. I will learn to fight and protect those who mean everything to me. I will not sleep till I fight for justice, I will not shed any more tears, not for you. Now, now its about me. You may never get to read this, but the world, the world will know. They will know how you pinned me down, how you stole my innocence. The world will know what a monster you are, how you enjoy raping little girls, how you molested your own daughter. I will move on, I will move away. If there's one thing you taught me, its never trust anyone. I will have children, and I will fight fiercely to protect them. Most people fear the monster's under their beds, I had to fear the monster in my bed. I will NOT let you take away their rights. You may have been my first, but you will never ever be the LAST. I will love, and be loved. I will have sex and enjoy it, I will cry, I will share with my husband, I will tell him the monster you are. I will find happiness, but you never will. You stole my virginity, but you WILL not steal my right to SEX. There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft. When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. When you rape a woman, abuse a child, you steal their right to intimacy and sex and everything that is natural to them. There is no act more wretched than stealing. I am NOT my abuser. I am not my abuse. It is just a part of me. (To all the men, women and children who have lost themselves to sexual abuse, I am with you. When you have cried, I have cried. Your sleepless nights have been my own. You are not what they did to you, you are YOU. You are NEVER alone. There is always Hope and there is always Help!)

Trigger bomb? I think yes! (Intimacy post abuse)

Trauma Support / by Ashti92

February 10th, 2016

...See more So as a child I was molested, sexually abused and then raped.. As a teenager I never recalled what had happened (repressed) until about the age of 16 years when It just came pouring out. I think what made me realize I was sexually abused by not one but multiple people was when I read a story of out chicken soup book where a young girl's nanny molested her in the bathroom of her own house! That's when it hit me that I had been abused sexually and used and thrown. Some people had monsters under their beds I had mine everywehre I went all the time, trying to touch me and get inside me and make me feel pleasure that led to the guilt i face even today! But years have gone by since the incident and I am truly blessed to have found a great therapist who works with me even on the hard and icky topics like Sex after abuse and how to learn to love myself. Apart from therapy I also do a lot of reading and research for one day I hope to open a centre for Sexual assault victim care in my own country! :) Sexual assault/abuse is not only terrible, it is liek someone has taken a piece of you that you can't get back. They didn't just take my virginity, they stole my ability to be intimate something I've found out rather recently while I've been attempting to be intimate with many different boys are different times. I think sex is horrible and terrifying even though I know it shouldn't be. It's hard to understand exactly why or how it can be so horrible... That's when I learned about triggers and keeping that in mind along with the immense frustration i feel at times, I'd like to share this blip from an article I found of some common triggers and reasons for frustration post abuse intimacy! Hope it helps you, I know it does, me! Some common reactions you may find your mate (the abused) displaying while trying to sort out their physical and emotional boundaries are: Fear, especially fear of pain, darkness, or suffocation Need to stop foreplay or intercourse for no "apparent" reason Nausea or vomiting before, during, or after sexual activity Cramping or other unexplained pain Being triggered- [https://bluegypsy.tripod.com/healrape.html#triggers] often displayed by hand gestures, sudden silence, frightened facial expressions, or refusal to look at you Overzealous attitude or display of arousal that often appears unreal Crying or other emotional outbursts before, during, or after sexual activity Inability to tolerate sensation of any kind Dissociating, [https://bluegypsy.tripod.com/healrape.html#DID] going out of the body or away from the present time's activities Questioning their sanity, senses, feelings, instincts, or emotions May want to shower or bathe often, especially after sexual activity Feeling trapped or bound for no obvious reason Panic attacks at sudden triggers may occur Nightmares, unexplained waking in the night Being startled easily by the sudden sound or apearance of another Suddenly recurring behavior you suspect is associated with the trauma Inability to determine the difference between sexual and non-sexual touching Inability to be comfortable with their body as a part of their humanity Inability to handle certain positions or postures without panicking Being unable to or refusing to take joy or pleasure in the experience Being ashamed or feeling indecent or dirty for participating Being confused about what is pleasant and what is painful To read the whole article click the link below! https://bluegypsy.tripod.com/physical.html

Reclaiming love: Life after sexual abuse

Trauma Support / by Ashti92

February 9th, 2016

...See more So no disrespect or harm to anyone and with no intention of triggering anyone. I have an interesting article I'd like to share with all those women, men, children who struggle with a rather obvious and yet so taboo topic. Sex after sexual abuse, how to reclaim love. Without further ado, I share the article! One in every five women has been sexually assaulted. And most of those [https://www.feminist.com/antiviolence/facts.html]assaults [https://www.feminist.com/antiviolence/facts.html]happen before the age of 25. I am a woman. Im 25 years old, and I am part of the 20 percent of women who have been raped. Its one of the hardest things Ive had to accept about myself, and its one thats not frequently talked about. This summer, I met a guy, and for the first time since my rape, I wanted to have sex with someone. I scoured the Internet for advice and found nothing. I was so nervous about having sex, but had no one to talk to about my concerns. It wasnt going to be my first time, but it certainly felt like it. My first time again, if you will, and I needed some advice. What I want to say to those of you who have also been affected by sexual assault is that sex isnt frightening. Its fun. And it can be great, if you let it to be. There are a few speed bumps to that road. Its not going to be as easy for you as for the 80 percent of women who are nervous and excited in all the normal ways. For us, its a little different. Every sexual trauma is different, and I can only speak for myself, but these were the major concerns that arose for me and how I chose to go about solving them. Finding The Person: I refer to this person as training wheels. And finding him should be the easiest part of the equation. Your training wheels will help you find your footing in remembering how to ride a bike (or a person in this case), and youre going to want them to be awesome. First and foremost, find someone you like. Someone youre attracted to. Someone you want to have sex with. This might sound incredibly obvious. Why would you try to have sex with someone youre not into? But believe me, I contemplated it. Just to get it over with, I told myself. But ultimately, I waited until I found someone I couldnt stop thinking about having sex with, which is really how I knew I was ready. To Tell or Not To Tell, That Is The Question: No one wants to lead in the bedroom with, So, I should tell you, Ive been raped … In fact, its something I try not to tell people because its something that I dont want to immediately define me. But the problem is that with sex in particular, that experience does define me. And if you feel the same way about your own experience, its something that youre going to need to communicate to your partner. You may think itll scare them off, but I guarantee theres a miniscule chance of that. And if by that incredibly small chance he does reject you based on that admission, run far far away — hes not worth your time or your body. I was initially too scared to tell my partner, and though it worked out, it was only because I was able to avoid certain triggers. Location, Location, Location: I decided I was going to have sex before the night even began. (Yes, ladies, that is how control of the situation you are … believe it). I called him up, asked him if he wanted to sleep over, and boom, 20 minutes later, he was in my apartment. This is because I wanted the main event to be on my ground, AKA, my bed. I found it comforting to be in my own bed and surrounded by my own things. I knew that if things went badly, Id be able to send him home (as opposed to making a sleuth escape). As soon as he came over, we both knew what was going to happen, but I was nervous hed be able to tell how inexperienced I was. Word of advice: as soon as youre naked, it wont even cross his mind. What Positions Are Best?: This was something I was particularly worried about, especially since I hadnt told my partner what the hell was going through my mind. Because of this, I found it extremely helpful to let him lead. Specific things to keep in mind: any sort of face-to-face position will be best. This will allow you to stay present and keep your eyes on who youre currently with. Also, if having your hands and feet pinned down might trigger you, make sure you can move them around at your leisure. Dirty Talk: What Should I Say?: For those of you who dont want to keep your eyes open the entire time to stay in the present, try talking. It sounds a little silly, but this helped me stay in the moment the most, even when my eyes drifted closed. Plus, your partner will appreciate hearing if hes doing something right. And on the flip side of that, if something isnt right, you can turn it into dirty talk without immediately bringing up your trauma. For example (Mom, dont read this), I like it when you hold my hands, but I love raking my nails down your back even more. With a statement like this, he gets immediate satisfaction from being told Im enjoying myself, and I get the use of my hands back without feeling like a victim. Finding a connection through sex after being raped has been a lengthy learning process. For years, I compartmentalized sex into a little scary, violent box, but I know now it doesnt have to be that way. You can be in control of the entire situation. And you should be able to ask for what you want and need sexually. Sex is a healthy part of adult relationships, and its something Im so happy to have reclaimed. -Charolotte Lewis

The Road to Recovery, and beyond...

Trauma Support / by Ashti92

April 2nd, 2016

...See more "When something bad happens, you have three choices. You can let it define you, you can let it destroy you or you can let it strengthen you." I was about 8 years old when I was first sexually abused, and about 18 years when I first walked in my therapists office.It was a warm Novemeber day when I travelled across town to a unknown coffee shop where I sat in the corner reading a book. My eyes gazed eagerly at the herds of women waltzed into the shop, and when I was not looking, my therapist walked right in. Its funny, I remember everything about that day. We were seated at a corner table, looking at me she knew I was nervous and gave me my first peace of advice, "Green Tea Soothes the nerves, try some!" And that is where it all began! My therapist, was a young woman, not too much older than myself, she had good skin and a calming aura about her. After talking a little, signing some contracts and dealing with the matters of money, we jumped to the matters at hand.. The next session and every time since, I visited my therapist at her home office, private practice where I would perch myself below the window on the hard wood floor and we would dive into the horrifying, terrifying and totally unreal aspects of my sad, pathetic, totally scary past. My therapist, "Dr S" as I refer to her was a woman of mystery, she was open minded, flexible and just life altering.. Although in the first meeting itself, she knew about my reasons for seeking her out, it was not until 5-6 months later that the real work began.. The initial few months were spent working on "Feelings." Yes, I said it, feelings.. You'd think it would be easy to identify what you feel, but for me it was a task, and a rough one at that! But once the initial phase was completed and we built a delicate, intricate and strong relationship the real work began.. Dr S and I met often in the initial few months of our sessions.. I would take an early bus to see her, following our sessions I would return, tired, uncertain and many a times in tears. Be it late night messages or undecided phone calls, I was able to access and contact my therapist at any given point through any means seen fit. One of the important aspects of therapy I realize today, is availability. For me being the way I was, shy, reserved, uncertain and rather introverted when it came to matters of self and emotions, It was hard to convey to others beyond the realm of therapy the situations I was within. The therapist and I worked together for almost a year, following which she terminated temporarily to deliver her baby boy, whom at first I was rather jealous of for "Taking her away from me." However, with time, space and reasoning I came to forgive myself for the negative thoughts I had and look at my therapist through different eyes. Your therapist is your friend, your confident, your one person who might know things no one else might know about you, however when the session is over and the day comes to a close, they too must resume their lives just as we would. One of the most important things I found on her website, was that therapy is a two way street, a two way relationship between therapist and client. The therapist is there to act as a catalyst, who challeneges you in ways you didn't know possible and support you as you walk through dark and gloomy roads. Three years ago, my therapist and I were complete strangers, unknown, uncertain and on the brinks of a new relationship. We met three years ago at a cafe, and ever since our relationship has grown. Today, I have deep respect, immense gratitude and ever loving kindness towards the woman who was my mother when a mother, i did not have. She was my friend, my therapist, my guardian angel. She is the reason I seek to be a Marriage and Family Therapist and the reason I continue to walk further into the field o Helping professionals.Three years ago, my therapist and I talked every week and had sessions every 2 weeks, today and for the past year, we have had sessions had sessions at 6 month intervals. At one point in my life she was my world, my only rock, and my only pillar of support. She was the one who lifted me up when I fell and carried me to safety when I was in danger. The Road to Recovery is not simple. For me it began at 18 and has continued for almost 4 years now. Therapy was one important, key aspect of my life, where today it is one small, but ever significant aspect, a safety net of sorts I know I can fall back upon. Trauma and traumatic experiences are those which are most usually unforessen- rape, abuse, accidents, natural disasters, unnatural deaths are all means of experiencing trauma. Recovery is not a short process but requires time, skill, energy and most of all devotion and openeness to the experiences. Trauma was the cause of my pain and sufferring, trauma was the cause of my relationship with an amazing woman, trauma was the cause of my continuing journey into the Mental Health field and Trauma is the reason I am me today. It takes much time and healing, but one day you realize the traumatic experiences don't define you, they are merely a part of you. My road to recovery and beyond began almost 5 years ago, and today it is the experiences that have led me to the path I follow today. Trauma allowed me to discover who I am, my potential and my reasons for existance. It taught me of my dedication to the cause and to my empathy and regard for others who experience such experiences and the same. My trauma allowed my to define myself, but my trauma is NOT me. Trauma led me to the road of personal growth. It taught me to feel, to share, to express. It taught me to build strong, ever lasting, honest relationships. Trauma took who I was, and molded it to make me who I am. I cannot say that I am "grateful or thankful" for undergoing the trauma I went through, but I am certain that without trauma, I would not be, me. "Scars remind us where we've been. They don't have to dictate where we are going."

Journey from victim to survivor

Trauma Support / by Ashti92

November 10th, 2014

...See more My name is Ashti, to the outside world and those around me I am a happy, bubbly, carefree, loving individual. However on the inside, I am raw and tender, wounds healing from abuse I suffered for many years as a child. The mask I wore on the outside was hiding all that I felt within, on the inside. I was abused sexually by multiple men for multiple years. If you ask me if I was abused, I will tell you yes, if you ask me was it horrifying, I will tell you yes, if you ask me if I hated every moment of it? I will tell you yes. Being abused sexually is indeed one of the most heart breaking, soul crunching, life changing events one could face. For many years, about 8 years to be exact I struggled with my abuse and struggled to understand why it was me who faced such hardships and such personal trauma. While my friends were carefree, I was crying late nights, trying to put myself to sleep. While other children's monsters were roaming under their beds, mine was roaming freely, getting into my body and my head.. You see being abused was, has and always will be something that separates me from every individual I know. It will always be something that remains with me and something I cannot change. But the reason I am writing this post today, is because over the past few months of being a listener on here, I have faced many many people who have come to me and spoken to me of their abuse. Some young, others elderly, all different unique individuals, with one binding life event, sexual abuse. Abuse is not something that leaves you, but over time and with the right support and love it can stop being the worst part of you. One morning I woke up and realized that I am not abuse, abuse is just a part of me. Being abused was one long, hard and heart wrenching life event that changed me forever, but it doesn't consume me. I was abused at the age of 8 and then from 11-13, but now at the age of 22, I realized that I survived a hurricance and came out to tell my story. I believe that even when the darkest night is over, the sun will rise and with it I too shall rise. I will kick, scream, shout and cry but I will not hurt myself. I will talk, I will hurt, I will feeling like I'm dying, but I shall not allow myself to die. My life is mine, and mine alone to live. I am not "abuse" it is but a part of me. I am strong and I am powerful, I am nobody's property except my own. My life is my choice my body is mine and even when life isn't worth living I promise myself I won't die. I was once a victim of a crime, a pawn in a game, a puppet on a string, but now I am strong and kind and caring. I am loved and will love, and I am alive and will live. I once read a quote that awakened my soul and allowed me to live again, "Living without meaning, is like living with one foot in the grave, you're alive but your not breathing." I wrote this today in hopes that people will find some sense of life and some desire to keep on going even when the world is a dark and horrifying place to be. I am grateful to be a listener and will listen to every soul who comes to me for a ear to talk to. "Do not go back and be the person you were yesterday, go forward and become the person you wish to be tomorrow." xoxo

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