Survivors' Story

My stepdad married my mum when I was 11. Up until this point, he was a lovely, kind, funny person, and I loved him being around. Things started to change when they got married, and over the next few years I got more and more aware of him touching me in ways I wasn't completely comfortable with. Odd things he would say to me would make me stop and think: "I'm sorry, it's because you're so beautiful", "I love you like I love your mum" and the such. Hugs when I went to school would turn into minutes of touching and kissing, I think mum noticed, but because it had come on so gradually no one really made anything of it.

Things escalated, he would come into my room late at night and lie in my bed, touching me, making me touch him. He made me pose for photos naked, humiliated me. But all the time I believed that it was because I'd done something wrong. Been too quiet at dinner, been too loud. I always deserved it. And then, the afternoon of my school prom when I was 16, he raped me. I had to go to the hospital the next day to fix what he had done to me.

And it continued. My grades at school dropped (I've always been a high achiever), I became bulimic, I started cutting. I escaped to my dad’s house, where it was much less frequent. The one time I said no, my mum ended up in hospital. So I've never done that again. On my 18th birthday, my "special treat", he took me to our holiday cottage, where 4 other men were waiting. They all had their way with me, I have never felt so dirty and worthless in my whole life.

And though it well and truly messed with my head and caused me so much pain and guilt, it also made me more determined than ever to succeed in getting into university, escaping my past.

Now I'm 19, just finishing my first year at university studying medicine. I've stopped cutting, though I still have issues with my eating. I still have flashbacks, things aren't easy for me. My mum is still with my stepdad, and this makes things really difficult when I want to see her. He has come to uni twice to see me, the second time I said no, and he hasn't been back since, though he has phoned.

I know I'm still a way away from sorting things out for myself, but for the first time in a long time I feel like there is a light at the end of the tunnel, even if it is more of a flickering candle at some points. I've recently got a boyfriend, and though I haven't told him anything yet, and he hasn't seen my scars, I hope that it is going to be the beginning of something good for me. University has been a huge help in my road to recovery, and I hope through my chosen career I'll be able to care for others who have gone through similar terrible experiences.

Don't lose hope. Take from the past what will help you in the future, the rest is a waste of energy.

Anonymous.