Regaining Her Voice: Dossie’s Story

How old were you at the time of the assault (s)?

16-24

How old are you currently:

60

Where did the assault (s) happen:

at home, streets, cars, apartments

Did you know the person(s) who committed the assault (s):

most of them

Did you tell anyone about the assault (s) at the time:

No

Did the assault (s) go to a court trial?

No

Do you think they will commit sexual assault again?

Yes

For me, coming of age in the fifties, rape was inextricably entangled with what I and everybody else believed it meant to be a woman. We had this thing called a “reputation” back then, and if you were interested in sex, or excited about much of anything physical, you could lose your reputation and become “fair game.” I took the wrestling matches in the back seats at drive-in movies for granted. Boys attacked, girls defended: that’s how it worked.

I was too young, and the culture too silent, to question any of this. My blossoming desire, my fascinated delight with making out, my inability to understand how to use desire as coin to buy marriage, made me outlaw and a prime target. I was seventeen when the first serious attempt at rape was perpetrated by a polite young man who offered me a ride home from a party when my date was dangerously drunk. I escaped from him, I’m not entirely sure how, with ten bruises around my neck. I remember the struggle to keep talking, a make-out session turned into a fight for my life with this man who was so consumed with whatever he desired that he thought he should strangle me. I walked the streets of Boston that night, afraid to call my parents for help because I was utterly certain that this was my fault. I had stepped out of the suffocating cloister of my family unchaperoned, of course I got attacked.

I moved to New York when I was eighteen to be a beatnik. Lousy jobs, unsafe neighborhoods, and me with no street smarts, I fought my way out of one assault after another. Oral rape, battery, kidnapping, threats from the policemen who offered to walk me home: my independence seemed to inspire rage. How dare I not belong to some man? Somehow I felt ashamed: by seeking my own destiny I had forfeited my protected status as a young lady. There was something wrong with me for wanting more out of life than to be a wife: I was outside the pale and it was always after curfew.

The huge trauma that changed my life went down during the Summer of Love. My partner, fellow Flower Child, fell to schizophrenia and became violent. During the first six months of my pregnancy with our child, I was repeatedly battered and bruised, terrorized with knives and fire, on one occasion brutally raped. Our sex routinely became a form of rape: not that I fought, but that he would take care that I took no pleasure in the act. In his madness the madonna/whore mythology loomed very large – at one point, with a huge smile on his face, he promised that after the baby was born and he no longer needed me he would kill me.

I don’t blame him that he was afflicted with mental illness – he couldn’t help that. I blame the culture that taught him from birth that he had a right; even an obligation to be more powerful than me, to “have” a woman and forcefully “keep her in her place” was the definition of manhood in much of the society we lived in. The more his illness frightened him, the more he needed to beat me down so he could feel powerful: he would make me small so he could feel big.

I escaped, six months pregnant, and went into hiding. Searching for me, he threatened violence to all of my friends, and they were afraid to be around me: I became truly dependent on the kindness of strangers. And there was kindness, and I got away: the nightmares began to die down after about ten years.

This experience made a feminist out of me back when feminism was unthinkable. The violence became a strange sort of gift: torn apart, I could see clearly for the first time that my problems were not that I was unwomanly, but that I lived in a culture that did not allow me to be a person. Trying to compromise nearly killed me: I had to step out of the box and discover myself to survive.

Since that time I have raised my child and worked as counselor to survivors of the many traumas that get inflicted on women. I created a lifestyle that supported both me and my daughter in being, not somebody’s adjunct, but a whole person. I learned to discover and cherish my own identity for my own sake. As a therapist, I enjoy the enormous privilege of supporting many women, and men as well, in healing from the violence of our culture and choosing for themselves the lives they want to lead.

Regaining Her Voice: Nicole’s Story

How old were you at the time of the assault(s) ?
I was 14 for the first.. I guess we could call it incident. I was newly 20 for the 2nd.

How Old are you currently?
22

Where did the Assaults happen?
The first one happened the night before senior prom, although I was not going to prom I was just invited along to see the hotel room my senior friends were going to have the night after.

The 2nd incident occurred at a house I had never been to, down in LA. I was on a trip trying to open myself up more and make new friends, but sadly it just closed me off more.

Did you know the person who committed the assaults?
Yes the first incident was committed by the guy that I considered my best friend and a person I could trust completely he was my confidant.
The second was by a random stranger, I was trying to be social and drinking and I ended up getting really sick, my friends put me upstairs in a bedroom so I could sleep it off. But I did not end up sleeping, I was interrupted by a guy looking for an easy target. It didn’t matter how many times I said I was not interested, that I didn’t want to participate, he did what he pleased.

Did you tell anyone about the assault at the time?

The first one I still feel like I cannot claim, I feel like I am lying about it, because anyone that I told, responded that my friend would never do such a thing. One of my female friends believed me the rest were skeptical.
The second I came down right after and was sobbing and trying to tell the person I was there with, he responded that he didn’t want to fuck me at that moment because he was sleeping with someone else that night. Not only was I assaulted but the person I was with blew me off and didn’t care nor even want to listen to what happened. So I sat in the corner crying wanting to go home, but my ride had left for the night so I had to sleep in the room it happened on the floor. It was one of the worst nights in my life.

Did the assult go to a court trial?
No in both cases, I was too ashamed it was my fault anyway… so there was no point in getting negative attention over it.

Do you think they will commit sexual assault again?

The first person : No. He ended up getting married to one of my friends sisters, I told her what happened but she didn’t belive me, she mentioned that he was on coke at that point in his life so it didn’t manner anyway. He get to live a normal happy life, while I am more screwed up inside then I will ever realize.
I don’t know about the second person, I only barley remember what he looked like.

What would you like to say to people about sexual assault?
Unless it has happened to you, no matter how much you think you do, you do not understand. It took away who I was and I will never ever have that person back. It has been 8 years since the first incident and I am just now Turing to face it, I ran from it for years, saying it happened if people asked but not really believing myself, I never felt like it really happened. To this day I feel like I am lying, right now I feel like I am a fraud. But it happened it affected me, it affected me more then any single event ever has and ever will. I was 14, I was so innocent, I was just starting to learn about myself, to grow and gain a sense of who I was. And in one instant it was all ripped away. I didn’t have teen years, maybe I went through the ages 15, 16, 17, but I didn’t really live them. I hid inside myself. The second rape, yes lets call it that, its hard for me to say that. I was raped. I want to cry when I say it, because it is starting to feel real. The second rape, did not hurt me as much, but it confirmed to my inner core that I truly was worthless, my existence did not matter, my happiness did not matter and who I was or could be certainly did not matter one bit. To this day I base how I feel about myself based solely on how other people treat me. My self esteem relies entirely on how I feel my friends or family or whomever view me. So if someone stands me up, or doesn’t want to be around me, I hate myself. Its not this clear, I don’t consciously think about it, but it is how my self esteem responds.

What would I like to say about this project?

Thank you. Just being involved has allowed me a lot of introspection. While introspection is not healing, it certainly is a start. I am proud of myself for being able to say “I was raped.” and mean it not to others but to myself. I am claiming the demon I have ran from. Its so scary, I cried before I went to have my picture taken by Eliina, but I know I am heading in the direction of healing.

Regaining Her Voice: Joya’s Story

RAPE
In 1974 at age 21

How old were you at the time of the assault?
21
How old are you currently?
53
Where did the assault happen?
LA Area

Did you know the person who committed the crime?
No

Did you tell anyone about the assault at the time?
Yes

Did the assault go to a court trial?
No

Do you think they will commit sexual assault again?

Yes
What would you like to stay to people about sexual assault?

It affects your life choices drastically, in a negative way.

What would you like to say about this project?

It is here when you are ready to regain your voice. No more hiding. This project is the safe place for your story. Finally, rest.

I was on the last 20 miles of a 3,000 mile journey, hitchhiking from New York to
Los Angeles to my parents’ house. I got a ride from a young black man. We had just gotten on to the freeway. It was 8:30 pm. He said he was ‘packin’. I thought he meant sandwiches. He cleared that up when he said he had a gun. He drove to an oil refinery parking lot. While raping me in the back seat of his Pinto I played along like a girlfriend, attentive and loving. He liked me. He said I should meet his mom and hangout with the family on the 4th of July! Afterwards I asked him if he could take me home now. He said “Hell No” and told me some white guys had raped his sister and now he knew “two wrongs don’t make a right”. We drove to his house. He knew where the Vaseline was. No birth control, but lube. He did it again. Then said he was leaving me with his cousin while he went to get some pot. He was gone for a long long time while his cousin got some “white sugar” (me). No lube.
He said “it hurt him as bad as it hurt me.”
It was probably 3 or 4am when the first guy returned. He made a bed on the floor in the living room for us. I actually fell asleep. We awoke to his cousin standing over me with a tire iron demanding more “white sugar” (me). The first guy asked me if I really had been
sleeping and I said yes. Then he grabbed my hand, pulled me up and we ran out the door to his car. We escaped; his cousin was on my heels. How weird to “escape” and still be
captive. He drove to a hotel and left me in the car while he went to “get a room?” I do not know what he was doing but he was gone too long.
I checked my purse for my I.D. The $20 bill was gone but the I.D. was there. I did not want him to know where I lived. I bolted across the highway to a small building with a light on. I ran up to the window and said, “There’s a man chasing me; can I hide here?” The woman motioned me to the back door. I sat on a crate next to some large cans of tomatoes. It was a catering truck kitchen. She offered me a scrambled egg burrito ending 9 hours in captivity. It was delicious. She said there was a man running up and down the street out front.
I smiled.
I got a ride home with a catering truck driver, woke my parents up and told them the story. My dad called me a whore but I was still glad to be “safe”.
“Safety” became my drug of choice.
Two days later I proposed to an ex-boyfriend, a pothead alcoholic who said “Yes”. I stayed with him 19 years and had 2 kids.
It takes drug/ alcohol-free courage and creativity to be happy. Pain pushes until
creativity pulls. I’ve got a couple of homemade careers where I get to redo
my life as it could have been.
When I walk at night I walk with large male friends and/or their dogs.

Regaining Her Voice:Rachel’s Story

How old were you at the time of the assault(s)?
I was 5-10 years old

How old are you currently?
I am 23 years old

Where did the assault(s) happen?
In my grandfather’s house

Did you know the person who committed the assault(s)?
Yes, my grandfather

Did you tell anyone about the assault(s) at the time?
No
Did the assault(s) go to a court trial?
No
Was there a sentencing?
No
Do you think they will ever commit sexual assault again?
No

What would you like to say to people about sexual assault?
It is something anyone, anywhere can experience without any preconception. Do not be naïve; it can happen to you or someone close to you. If it has happened to you know you are not alone and help is out there.

What would you like to say about this project?
Excellent!! Something I have been waiting for. Very excited to see more stories.

Although I was sexually abused several years ago, I feel it affects my life now more than ever. Nothing really seems right. Growing up I always put myself in situations to get hurt. For example, I was involved in relationships where I was not loved and I was being used for sex. When I was younger I loved sex; it was a sense of power and control for me. I knew I had what guys wanted and I used it to my advantage. I used to think I was a sexaholic because I always wanted to have sex. But now that I am with someone who loves me, I treat him like he was one of the other’s using me. I resent him sometimes and I started thinking to myself “Am I falling out of love? Is this lust?” But I am starting to realize he LOVES me! And I think that is something I was never able to accept. I never knew how it felt to be loved from the inside out. Even my friends I feel they love me but in my crazy head I don’t see why. Growing up not only did I attract horrific relationships but I also attracted bad friendships. I had friends that always tried to control me and run my life. At first I believed this friendship to be love but then as I got older I realized how much I pushed myself aside and dealt with these situations. Another way the abuse affects me today is with my family. I feel so unloved, unwanted, a burden to my brothers and sometimes to my dad. I guess this came from when I first told my parents about the abuse. At first my father did not believe me and had to clarify it with my cousin who we learned was also being sexually abused by my grandfather. Then I was sent to counseling and my grandfather was not to show his face. Then my dad started to feel bad for him because he is old and is pretty much helpless so he was allowed back in the house, basically they chose my grandfather over me. And that is pretty much how I have been feeling for 9 years now. And I have not spoken about it with them since! I want to get over this already and I want to stop blaming everything I feel on my past because I do have the ability to change but I am not ready to let go. I am not ready to say it’s okay, it was in the past let’s move on…my grandfather does not deserve that sort of justice. The way I used to deal with the past is by not thinking about it. But what was bad about this classic method is the moment something reminded me of it whether it was something visual, smelly or emotional, I broke down and no one knew. All throughout my childhood I tried to block it out and ignore what was going on but I have never really felt healed. It was not enough for me to just write down my thoughts. Or how I used to handle it was cutting my skin and becoming mute in school. What I always wanted was to talk with other individuals who were sexually abused and how they dealt with it. Till this day I am 23 years old and my past has made me who I am, in most cases a good person but in others it does have the best of me and I do look back at it and feel ashamed. I allow my childhood to control my relationships, my sex life, my personality, my self esteem, myself worth, my family, and my friendships. If it wasn’t for people who really love me and understand me, I would probably still be stuck in an extreme emotional rut. The way I try to cope with the past today is by blocking it out and telling myself what happened in my past has made me a beautiful person today. Sometimes turning it positive helps me accept it but it is not always so successful.

Regaining Her Voice: Kristen's Story

How old were you at the time of the assault(s)?
3 or 4 & 15

How old are you currently?
35

Did you know the person(s) who committed the assault(s)?
Yes

Did you tell anyone about the assault(s) at the time?
No at 3-4 & yes at 15

Did the assault(s) go to a court trial? Was there a sentencing? If so, how long?
No

Do you think they will commit sexual assault again?
Yes

What would you like to say to others about sexual assault?
If you have been sexually assaulted, you are a victim as well as a SURVIVOR. There are others who will hear your voice. There is help out there to support you in healing the life-changing wounds that stem from the abuse; wounds that most likely have plagued your development, relationships, self worth, ability to trust & live in the now. No matter how old you were or how much you recall, the abuse just might be the root of much of the pain you have endured in your life. Speak up & know you have support from those who truly get it.

What would you like to say about this project?
Thanks. We all have faces that accompany our stories. This project is so important.


I was sexually abused as a child & raped as a teenager. After seeking help from a therapist, I believe the 2nd assault is directly related to the first. The 1st assault changed me forever… my self esteem, my world & my ability to trust others. I want to be clear, however, that I didn’t go to a therapist for help with this. I went for help with my struggles to build relationships with people who are nice to me. I went because I wanted to learn more about my anger, my depression, my nausea & my pain. Through discussion about relationships, memories, etc, I have learned that my past has really MIS-shaped my views of me, my sexuality & sex in general. At some point between 3 & 4, I was playing doctor with my babysitter's son at their house. I assume we had played before, but I only recall the time my friend’s older brother- my friend too- joined us in the bathroom. He was 5 years older than us which, I have now learned, changed the situation from innocent to abusive. He penetrated me & our friend with my plastic doctor tools. He forced me to penetrate my friend as well. I recall asking him why he was doing this. I recall being held over the bathtub backwards & recall counting tiles around the bathtub as he did things to both of us. I recall my friend’s warm eyes staring at me like a deer in the headlights. His eyes & those tiles have stayed with me for 30 years. I never told anyone about this until recently. Because of the abuse… losing my virginity was painful, completely unplanned & quite hideous. I was 15 & he was 18. Though I had little to no interest in sex at the time, my friends did, so I felt pressured to “do it.” It was a cold January night & it occurred outside on a wet lawn surrounding an empty office building. This was abusive in itself- a choice I made because of my unclear vision of sex due to the early abuse I endured. Just one week later, his 19 year old friend raped me. I didn't know it was rape at the time. Rape, to me, meant a dark ally, a punch in the face, beatings, blood & screams. It meant cops, court hearings & jail. I was 15 living in a safe suburb. I was school smart, street smart & part of the "popular crowd" & had some friends; knowing the ins & outs of rape was very far from my mind until that night. Basically, the 19 year old told "my first" that I wasn’t interested, told me that "my first" wasn’t interested in me & then spent the evening trying to lure me in. I kept telling him to leave me alone; I said no, I tried to move from underneath his 19-year-old man-like frame as he laid on top of me, squirming uncomfortably. Most of all I kept saying stop. A friend heard me, opened the door & told the guy to get off of me. The next day, the boy who saved me explained that “no means no” & told me that I had been raped. I felt completely removed from my body, my friends, and my life. I was never the same again. I did tell someone about it this time & my own mother began referring to me as a "slut" every time she lost her temper. Soon, I began to believe I was... Because of the abuse... I have suffered with stomach-aches, anxiety/depression, pain & an inability to cope basic feelings of anger, hunger, excitement, happiness & sadness throughout my entire life,. I was diagnosed with an ulcer in the 2nd grade, which caused daily symptoms of nausea from age 7 throughout my teenage years, when I began using drugs to help the symptoms; just the beginning of dangerous choices I made quite regularly. When things got difficult at home, I often contemplated suicide. When things got bad, I flipped out, ran away & continuously put myself in dangerous situations. Because of the abuse... I had sex with boys in high school & college because I wanted their friendship. I have struggled immensely to build & keep relationships with people who care about me & until recently, I tended to enter relationships with people who need help…people I can help fix while taking in the abuse they inflict upon me. Because of the abuse... I thought I was someone I am not. Perhaps the most valuable thing it has taken from me is my sexuality. Until I received help from a therapist, I thought I was heterosexual, but have learned that though I am married to a loving, understanding wonderful man, I am in fact gay. I always felt that something was missing in my sexual relationships, but blamed it on me, my quirkiness & believed that I just wasn’t a sexual being…that sex was a tool for me to get what I want, not something to be enjoyed. Because of the abuse... My life was changed, but it wasn't taken. I embrace who I am & know that I am worthy of a happy life. I am thankful to have a support structure in my life & even though my life was changed, it is my life & I deserve to be happy.

Regaining Her Voice: Mya's Story

How old were you at the time of the assault(s)?
15

How old are you currently?
17

Did you know the person(s) who committed the assault(s)?
He was a boy that desperately wanted to go with him and he desperately wanted to take my virginity

Did you tell anyone about the assault(s) at the time?
No

Did the assault(s) go to a court trial? Was there a sentencing? If so, how long?
I never did press charges

Do you think they will commit sexual assault again?
Yes, he probably has already

What would you like to say to others about sexual assault?
Tell somebody if somebody has or tries to sexual assault you

What would you like to say about this project?
I really like this project a lot. I like the fact that I am able to share my story with other people.

I was about to get of the school bus and the boy had bumped in to me, he had apologized and we all got off the bus [he just happened to live in the same apartment complex as me].I was walking home and he came up beside me and told me again that he was sorry and he told me his name I told him my name and we started associating from then on. He started walking me home from school every day after we got off the bus, at first he was really sweet and he was cute to so I was really happy about that. Then he started asking me to go with him and I told him no because I had just met him and I wanted to get to know him better. From then on he started asking me out and I still told him no. Then he started asking me every day if he could come over to my house and I told him no because I am not allowed to have any kind of company while my mom is not home. But he still would not listen and he would keep me outside for hours trying to come inside my house. Then one day while we were outside he had asked me if I was a virgin and I told him yes, and from then on he started asking me to have sex with him, and I would tell him, no I want to wait until I was married. And then I remember this one day he kept asking me if he could come inside my house and I once again told him no. He had snatched my house key out my hand and he unlocked my door and went inside after I told him not to, it was like it didn't even matter that I had told him that I did not want him to come inside my house. I kept asking and telling him to get out of my house but he would not listen. The next thing I remember is him on top of me and I’m trying to push him off and I’m telling him to get off of me but he would not listen and he would not get up and I kept on trying to push him off and he got so aggravated with me trying to push him of that he took both my arms and pinned them to the ground and he had my legs pinned on the ground to so I couldn't defend myself in any kind of way and he told me "you gonnna feel it today!" and I screamed "no, get off of me" and "no I don't want to" and he started trying to kiss me on my neck or my lips I couldn't remember but when he tried to kiss me wherever I started moving my head from side to side like I was shaking my head no and I once again started screaming no. All of a sudden got up and he told me the only reason why he didn't go through with it was because of the way I was looking or something about my eyes I can’t remember, but I still have not told anybody about what had happened and he tried to rape me again several months later at school and that time I went and told the assistant principle and they said there wasn’t anything that they could do because he already withdrew from the school and when I had told my best friend what happened and i had told her to tell her cousin to stay away from him and she did and he denied the whole thing and said that I was lying about everything and he tried to get his sister to fight me and his sister didn't try and fight me because she said she didn't know who I was[she was lying because she rode the same bus] and now I’m still kind of scared to go back to my school [he's back at the school] because I know I am going to see him. and I’m scared to tell anybody else about what happened I haven't even told my mom or dad about what happened yet and all this happened last year I am just so scared right now and I just don't know what to do.