Your UnSlut Project

Submitted by Anonymous

It was in seventh grade when it all started. And I know what's probably going through your head right now: "What 'slutty' things could a seventh grader possibly do?" Well, the possibilities are endless. On the very first day of seventh grade, we had two new seventh grade students in our class. We were in a split class, and at first, we thought one of them was an eighth grader, because he was so tall. He was at least 5'11". For whatever reason, I got to know this new kid. But it was a really big mistake.

We started "dating." And it wasn't really dating, because there is only so much to call "dating" which a seventh grader can do. It didn't last very long and I didn't think much of it. He was very hypersexual. Maybe, overly sexual. Always horny. We never had a normal conversation without at least one mention of his dick. Those text messages got me into a lot of trouble, and that was the first time he called me a slut.

"Slut." The word just stuck out at me. And it was enough that he called me a slut, but the fact that I didn't even do anything but take his bullshit really irked me. Eighth grade came around and we were best friends again. In eighth grade, I came out as lesbian. And I actually am, it wasn't any call for attention or anything. I know that the fact that I'm lesbian doesn't really affect anything, but in this story, it does. You see, eighth grade is the year I wish I could repeat. Not because it was good, but because I want to recreate it and stop myself from making bad decisions.

I was dating the tall boy's ex-girlfriend at the time, and we were keeping things a little quiet. Our relationship was good, sweet and healthy, and we never fought. It was perfect. One night, he got really horny. More than usual. I don't remember exactly how this started, but I remember key points from it. He started what he called "turning me on." And it started innocently, just him resting his hand on my knee. And I thought, you know, "This is ok, we're just two friends hanging out." I didn't think it would ever escalate to the point that it did. He toyed with my mind and manipulated me, tricked me into thinking it was okay. And at first, I didn't consent, but I didn't say no, either. Every day his hands were creeping under my shirt, cupping my breasts, or down my pants.

"These are really slutty things for an eighth grader to do," my mind told itself. He sexually abused me for a long time. And after it was done, he called me a slut. He called me a slut in front of my friends and everyone. He called me a slut because he had sexually abused ME. When I told my friends, they called me a slut, too. Everyone who found out that I knew what his dick felt like called me a slut. And it wasn't something I wanted brought upon myself. I feared for my life for two months after that, feared that he would one day come again and do worse things. My grades were dropping drastically as I worried about it, experiencing flashbacks in vivid detail of what he had done to me. He manipulated me. I don't even know how he did, but he did.

I hated my body after that. I had intimacy issues and was very timid, and I still am. People kept judging me, kept calling me a slut. He caused BPS in me, which is a rare psychological condition. Thanks a lot. To anyone who has been sexually abused and called a slut or a whore, you are NOT. It is not your fault that you were abused. It may be hard to accept or realize this; believe me, I'm still trying to realize it, but it is not your fault. You are not a "slut" for being mistreated. It was never your fault. You are as strong as a diamond, and as beautiful as one, too. So stay diamond, my friends, and I hope life is kinder to you than it was to me.