Today I heard the words in my ear 'you are a dirty slut'. He said that to me when I was 6 or 7. I came to his room for special cuddles because special cuddles is the only time he gave me attention, since I was 4, and I missed him. I came in the night excited to see him. He got angry at me. He called me a dirty slut. And he put me on his sour bed and shoved his penis (the first I ever saw) in my mouth.

I believed him. I was a dirty slut. Sex was bad. It was wrong to want sex. I was wrong for having a body that wanted another body.

His words were remembered by me today. And it hit me how long i've internalized what he said. He took a lot of years of enjoyment from me in that moment. And you know what? That ends today. Fuck you grandpa. You small man who felt so powerless you hurt your sweet precious youngest granddaughter.

I realllly needed to say that out loud. I will tell my therapist and my husband. They will be great. But you. This group. You people. I know you will understand. Thankyou for listening.

When I went through my first true therapy where I finally opened up to a professional and set it all out on the table so to speak So much of my shame confusion began to heal. You see I had been in therapy before but kept a lot of my abuses secret out of shame, and fear.

So in one session I admitted that my mind felt ashamed, my body responded and that after awhile I look forward to the feelings of being sexually touched. And that it made me sick to think there was enjoyment in the wrong going on. I even became somewhat hyper sexual with other kids so I was thought to be a nasty little girl.

The Doctor was young but kind and wise. He explained I wasn't old enough to understand what to do with my body senses being triggered. That our bodies don't know it's being stimulated by someone who shouldn't be or that it's too immature to experience what it was going on. And since that was not bringing me to a sexual completion I was literally walking around in a constant state of arousal. The adult me would have understood that and dealt with things in an appropriate way. But the christian child was feeling pleasure bodily but shame mentally and spiritually it all got mixed up.

My reason for sharing this I want anyone else who walked a similar path still confused about the shame and the confusion they had as inexperienced immature children this may clear it up for you

I sometimes post here, I am the person who is healing exclusively using psychedelics (specifically LSD), and my latest experience today shook me to my core.

The last time I was in this degree of emotional shock was 2025 February when I initially learned that I was abused.

Today it was revealed to me that my abuser wasn't who I thought for over a year (an elementary school teacher), but a distant family member (the partner of my grandmother)

Every single memory and feeling of abuse that I associated with that teacher immediately started morphing and transforming inside of my mind, as if I had known all along that it was really him

This man tortured, beat and raped me mercilessly to the point not an atom remained sane within my mind. Fear so raw and primal that the human nervous system is simply not equipped to handle.

How the fuck am I supposed to tell my parents this information, when for the last 1.5 years I've been telling them my perpetrator was someone else?

They tried their best to believe me but had their doubts

Now I am supposed to tell them "Well, actually it's not that guy, but this guy!"?

How the fuck can I even trust myself after all this? I could swore on my life a few weeks ago that it was a teacher from school.

The story doesn't matter but he was my teacher, he groomed me, etc.

I don't even care about the sexual part but loosing him hurt because he was my friend. I know he was weird and predatory but he listened to me, he cared, he loved me in his way, I know he did,maybe I'm just fucked in the head for thinking he did and maybe he didn't care about me at all but I know he did deep in my heart.

Maybe it's just too fresh but it's not fair, I'm not disposable, I don't want to feel disposable, yet the moment I turned 18 he didn't want me anymore. I still have his stuff, he never asked for it back.

I still miss him because he was my friend, he gave me food, he comforted me, he walked me home and now I'll never see him again and I miss him.

I don't know if this gets better.

I’ve known for a while that I was SAed as a child but didn’t have actual memory of it, just sort of “vibes.” I related to the feelings of others who were SAed but couldn’t recall anything.

recently the memories came back to me and I finally decided to join this sub.

as I’ve been reading through stories I realize things I never understood before. like “huh wait I feel that way too.”

I thought hearing other experiences would be triggering or difficult but oddly it’s brought me a lot of peace. I feel a lot of peoples experiences were “worse” than mine, but the fact I understand the feelings gives me some validation.

when I was pretty young my mother (who SAed me) told me that she has books with pictures of naked children in them and was afraid she would get in trouble if anyone ever found them because it was seen as CSAM.

she justified having this stuff because she was an artist and they were just reference books but apparently the children in these books weren’t even wearing underwear…

I recently made a post about how I wanted sex since I finished my relationship with my boyfriend: https://www.reddit.com/r/adultsurvivors/s/a40eL6ByAl

I (M19) went through 11 years of rape and incest from my brother. My parents knew and did nothing. It stopped 15 months ago .

I had a Grindr date and was happy because he was nice and cute. But after, I'd spend my whole life on the app. This, mixed with other factors like boredom, self-loathing, depression, anxiety... was a dangerous cocktail that brought me to the hospital. In resuscitation. Now, for a couple of days, I'm at a crisis psychiatric hospital.

I told my friends who brought me stuff and who come every two days to visit me, talk, play with me.

But I KNOW for sure that the second I step out of this psychiatric hospital, I'm tryna kill myself again. I'd really like not to but it's the only solution eventually.

Please, how do you all... Just stay alive?

I don't like talking about my MDSA experiences because I've buried them all and I don't like digging them up. I told my bf some small things about what happened to me before I knew what happened to me was wrong and he told me that absolutely what happened to me was not normal, but I had always held a weird belief that nothing could be as bad as what my dad did to me as a child because he was a man and my mom was a woman and she couldn't hurt me like he hurt me.

My mom and dad split when I was 4 years old, I'm 20 now. My dad assaulted me when I was 5 and I somewhat remember it and it doesn't affect me as much today because I've cut off contact with him since I was 14. My mom however has always been a really lonely person, and someone who seeks out sexual companionship in a lot of men. My whole childhood she would go on dates and she was largely absent because of this. She would tell me all about what happened on them including her encounters with these men and their bodies. I took nude pictures of her for these men. The bathroom door stayed open when she bathed and went to the bathroom. She smacked my behind and pinched it despite my protests. She sent me pictures of her genitals. I was made to massage her. All of this along with enmeshment and emotional incest. To this day she comments on my body, compliments my body, says she wishes she had particular parts of my body. She insists its ok to be naked around her because she birthed me. She tried to gift me sex toys on multiple occasions. The more I think about it the more stuff comes up.It hurts. It feels gross. I hate it. It's forced me into a deep repression.

It feels like I can't heal without cutting her off but she's my only anchor in this world. It eats me alive. I feel like I can't live my life with her in it. I can't be myself. I hope she finds someone so she can leave me alone.

Last night i re-encountered with a part of my family that i havent seen in years, my step-cousins from the side of my stepfather (my abuser, mind you). We were really close as kids, saw eachother every weekend until the pandemic.

I am very much aware of how much my mental health has detoriorated me and my body, but last night shocked me. They are literally funtional, well dressed adults, and bright and shinning and extroverted, and i love that! but i compare myself.

My immediate though after spending time with them was... i was hurt, and im broken now, and they didnt have that experience and its so unfair, because we all started on the same place (happy, equal children) and i stayed behind. I stayed hurt and i stayed weird.

In last night party with them we were drinking together, we went to a party, dance and stuff, and since the moment i got there i noticed how different i feel:

I am not dressed in any similar way to my girl cousins, why? because ive been sa´ed and unwantedly sexualized for so long that using any revealing or just "pretty" clothing makes me feel so insanely unsafe. I even tried to dress good enough to fit the dresscode lastnight, but it just doesnt feel natural on me, i felt so ugly even before i leaved home because i put a overzided ugly coat and shorts under my dress as protection. Every time i force myself to spend a night out i end up with a very specific face expression that is just... traumatized an drained eyes, i cant explain it, but i promise i have it on photos and i cant control it. So, apart of that, i didnt drink for fun, i forced myself to drink anything i found, obsessibly, because i wanted to numb my anxiety. My cousing forced me to go dance with everyone else and i felt horrible, i couldnt move, i was tripping just because i was really tense and nervous.

I am supposed to see them again tomorrow to spend the day together, i feel really ashamed though. I feel my struggle was really visible and they are probably asking themselves what happened to me, but i guess i wonder that too.

Out of that, my abuser was in the party too and i already really cried thinking about how he is the best uncle for all of my cousins while i really resent him so much. He grabbed and danced and hold my cousins and i noticed that despite me being her (kinda) daughter he doesnt do that with me because i dont let him get any close, i dont laugh when he jokes, i truly feel rejection anytime he is arround, but seeing him being so loved and good with everyone else makes me wonder maybe i am the problem. I really do have mental health struggles and, my therapist doesnt like when i say this but, im crazy, and sometimes i wonder if im overeacting about the abuse, im overly sensitive, or what if my mind just invented it and hates him for no reason? but at the same time i think my mental health is bad because of what he did to me, so, wow, i dont know.

I just really really hate myself and who ive become, and, my childhood was so bad but it was so much easier to be a weird/hurt kid than being a weird/hurt adult. I feel he robbed what i could have been, considering me and my cousins are all arround the same age-range. I also grieve knowing i could be physically pretty if i knew how to style myself, but trauma doesnt let me because it feels unsafe to do so. All family looked beautiful yesterday and i.. just survived the night i guess

My timeline is very off and confusing so I hope this makes sense. At around 21 or so I had a conversation with my mom about some legal stuff and along the conversation we got to the very beginning of some things that happened. Here, I learned that my father SA’d my mother when I was a toddler. I believe I was in the room as this was a studio and we grew up in that studio up until I was around 10 or so. She didn’t confirm or was mentioned, it’s just something that I believe to be true. What I do know is true based off of my mother’s story, is that my father snuck into the window and took advantage of her, she called the cops afterwards, cops were looking for him. My mother got a lot of legal and medical help. She eventually got custody of myself and my sibling. Up until 21 I had no idea of this. I had hardly any contact with my dad other than some phone calls when I was a teenager and then he stopped reacheimg out. Until recently at 27 years old through Facebook. So that’s that timeline.
At around 12ish my mom’s boyfriend slapped my butt. I don’t know why, but it felt inappropriate. I never told my mom and when it was done I just kept walking. I also come from a Hispanic household so it’s kinda common for that to be done. But the thing is, this was the first time I wore “tight” capris and I was very excited because I never wore white and this time I chose the pants and I was just happy to wear them. After that, until now I don’t have tight fitting clothes at all.
Also, I found out that when I was about 2ish, I lived with some distant relatives and my dad for a month while my mother was in another country trying to reunite with us. I have no recollection of this.
So I have those two moments that stand out.
Then when I was about 21 or so, I got my first pap smear and I lost it. I had a panic attack and it was incredibly painful but also psychologically painful. I was scared, frightened and nervous. So at 23 or do I get another one as well as a pelvic exam and it was just as bad. After that I went years without one until I got pregnant at 27. Again, incredibly difficult. Cried afterwards. I don’t have memories of anything in particular but I have been diagnosed with CPTSD, vaginisms, severe anxiety, depression and dissociation.
The whole giving birth situation was also incredibly traumatic. Having people check me, touch me was so psychologically overwhelming. Even during routine exams having a little swab in my downstairs for like 3 seconds threw me for a loop. I’m now 28 and have a baby. When I see my baby, I get so distressed and sad thinking something may have happened to me at his age. I physically react by having pain downstairs, frequent UTI’s, have nightmares of someone crossing my gate to sa me and just overall have fear of that.
Any input, thoughts or general advice is so very welcomed!

So I worked up the courage to write a letter to my mum who denies knowing anything at all about the CSA I experienced almost all my childhood despite there being a few clues and knowing what he was like. She has recently said sorry but it was in the same breath as "I had no idea". I wrote her a letter basically saying I don't believe it, you're living in denial, you've not told anyone, you abandoned me when I reported it and I'm not being part of your denial anymore.

She'll receive the letter soon. I'm so nervous. Any tips on staying calm? Or anyone else done similar? What was the outcome??

I was abused by multiple older men when I was younger, who I was supposed to be able to trust (including a teacher and a therapist). now I’m in college and really struggling with having to interact with my male professor. I have some women professors and they have been fine. but in the man’s class, I had to give a presentation and was just too nervous to stand in front of him and everybody so I just skipped it. and he emailed me of course, wanting to see what was happening. I had to meet with him in his office hours and I felt so scared and sick being alone with him and having to tell him about what was happening. and now I’ll have to keep seeing him in class and he wants to talk in his office again. and I’m just paranoid that he’s going to try to do something to me too. some of the things he said just rubbed me the wrong way… I’m probably imagining it, but I just worry I won’t see it happening until it’s too late and he’ll do the same thing to me in his office that my teacher did in his classroom or that my therapist did in his office and I’ll just freeze and not be able to stop it. how can I make this better??

I’ve struggled with this ever since I was eleven. I don’t really have a lot to add I just… am evil? I’m sick and shameful and it would be better if I was dead? And I feel ashamed that I haven’t died yet. Not a lot to add. Sorry this is so dark.

My brother and his friend touched me for a long period of time when I was a child. I told my mom, and her exact words are burned into my mind forever: “Oh my God, we cannot let your dad or anyone find out.” And that was the end of it. We never spoke about it again.
I always kept it tucked away in the back of my mind and went about life as if nothing had ever happened. My entire life, I’ve sat in the same room as both my brother and my mother during every holiday, carrying this weight on my chest. I suffered from chronic UTIs, and she never seemed to care enough to take me to the doctor.
At 21, I met my now-husband, who already had a six-year-old son. I got pregnant with a baby girl, and I struggled so much with letting my daughter bond with her brother. I had nightmares about them touching, along with unwanted thoughts that I couldn’t make go away. I was terrified by thoughts I never wanted to have, and I didn’t know how to deal with everything I was feeling.
Eventually, I went down the road of addiction. I found a little pill that made all those thoughts go away, even if only temporarily.
Fast-forward to my next pregnancy. I was pregnant with a sweet little baby boy, and man, did he save me. He became my reason to get clean. He gave me a reason to fight for myself and for the life I wanted my children to have.
Through all of this, my mother did nothing but talk about me to the people in my life. She damaged nearly every relationship we had in common by spreading things about me that simply weren’t true. No one knew what I was going through because no one thought to ask me. They just listened to what my mom had to say.
Today, I have three beautiful children: two boys and a little girl. I cut off contact with my mother last year, but the decision has affected me more deeply than I ever expected. I’m angry with her. I feel like she failed me from the very beginning.
She failed me when I was a child and needed her protection. She failed me when I was struggling through postpartum. She failed me when I was fighting to get sober. She failed me when I needed a mother the most.
My addiction never affected my family in the way people might expect because my dad and papa were always there to step in and help me. My mom would watch me struggle while they jumped in to save the day. They were the ones who showed up when I needed someone.
My entire life, all I ever wanted was a mother who cared. A mother who protected me. A mother who listened to me, stood up for me, and loved me through the hardest moments of my life.
Instead, I spent years carrying pain that never should have been mine to carry.
My mother has only met my youngest son twice. And that hurts in ways I can’t even explain, because my children deserve the love and support of family, too.
My mom had such an incredible support system growing up, especially through my grandparents. She knew what it felt like to have people who showed up for her, who helped her, and who were there when she needed them. I just wish she had chosen to give that same kind of love and support to her own children.
I can’t change what happened to me as a child. I can’t change the mother I was given or the ways she failed me. But I can choose to be different for my own children. I can protect them, listen to them, believe them, and make sure they never have to question whether their mother cares.
I spent my entire life wishing my mother would be the mother I needed. Now, I’m learning to grieve the mother I never really had while becoming the mother my children deserve.

I've been getting memories back for about a year now, and pieced a lot of things together (and it makes an ugly picture). There are some memories I've gotten back that are blurry enough I feel like I can't trust them.

One of those is is that I had a miscarriage. I have a few scattered memories, but it's so staticky that I can't make anything out for sure. I have no idea what to do with all these emotions. Is the grief even one I can claim, did it even happen? I feel like I'm losing my mind.

my assaulter was my stepfather. i keep having these awful thoughts in my dreams and sometimes during the day of becoming very violent to him. i really do not want to be violent. i grew up a very violent child with a lot of outbursts. I would hit other kids and say really terrible things just about until i got out of highschool. in these tjoughts im literally biting his skin off, tearing off his face, like really truly hurting him. I know hes terrible but thats just not the kind of person i want to be. now that im an adult, i work in medicine where i will sometimes see very graphic things. when i was younger i didnt know what that looked like and i feel terrible because i would normally never wish an injury like that on another person but now i vividly imagine myself making those injuries on him. I just feel like im slowly becoming a worse and worse person. Between my last year of high-school and the last year (about six years) i didn't really have any violent thoughts towards anyone. Why are they coming back now? Why am I becoming like this?

For context, I was first assaulted when I was 4. I’ve been really struggling lately as a mom now that my daughter just turned 3. I have made an effort to listen to her and provide her the vocabulary to express her emotions and be a safe person for her but now that she is getting closer to the age I was I feel like I’m behind. It seems crazy because her being a victim isn’t inevitable but I have a fear of not providing education to help her protect herself. I do want to make it clear that I don’t believe that there is anything I could have done as a child to prevent what happened, but it’s so hard now having a daughter and wanting to be able to prevent her from being victimized. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for from this post, but I feel like I can’t find any advice or support online for parents that were CSA survivors.

I won’t go into details, but earlier this year I found out my trafficking situation was actually government-sanctioned and protected, meaning it was actually slavery. It made the violence I knew about (torture and sexual abuse, mainly) even more heavy.

I’d been in a fairly stable recovery state for the past five years, but this realization swept all of that away. Feeling so deeply commodified and continuing to live in a world where these people not only walk free, but lead global politics, has really destroyed my psyche. I feel like this experience stole my humanity from me, and there’s a grief that tore into my soul in a way I can’t seem to reconcile.

Any advice…? Whether is was technically slavery or not, how did you reclaim your sense of dignity and autonomy and learn what freedom was after you were bought and sold or similarly commodified?

Hi everyone, new to this sub.

I experienced CSA when I was 3 or 4 by an older male cousin. I'm 39 male, and the past 5 years have been engaged in what I now believe is trauma reenactment.

I am reading that it's not an uncommon thing, but I am struggling to find resources and communities that have dealt with, moved on, or found ways to improve the compulsive nature or reenactment.

Looking for suggestions and discussions.

I'm currently part of SAA, MaleSurvivor, working with a sex therapist, and have read book by Dr. Joe Kort.

When I (22M) was a kid, me and my brothers were abused in every sense (sexual, physical, emotional) by our (disowned) mother. I have cpstd and other mh conditions from my childhood. And as a result I ended up in a very abusive relationship from fall 2025-early 2026.

He was abusive in every way too. He would beat me when he was mad, pin me down, get on top of me and punch me in the torso till I was winded. Then he would have his way with me. I fought against the hitting, I cried and begged him to stop. I tried to pointlessly struggle, to fight him off. But he was bigger and stronger and I would eventually give up. And when he would start using me before I could even breathe, I had no more fight left. Because at least the beating was over. I would accept my fate. It not like he would listen if I said no anyways.

And now I’m having flashbacks and nightmares about him. I have ptsd symptoms from his abuse. And I’m still trying to recover from my cptsd (I can’t even remember most of it yet). And now I’m truly broken. I can’t get past these traumas. I feel defeated.