Your UnSlut Project

Submitted by @lovesiick

I'm only 16 now, and I still have a ton to learn about life, but I think I've learned all that there is to learn about sexual harassment.

So far, I've grown up in a broken household. My father came to the table with a child that he had already had at 16. My parents divorced when I was three, six months after having my little brother, and cannot for the life of them get along. Through me, they would try to regain power over one another. I was the victim of my parents' divorce. Now, I know, they both thought they were doing the right thing. Mother protected me from father and father protected me from mother, but that doesn't justify your actions.

My mother met a man who ended up being a terrible alcoholic. My youngest brother was a product of that disaster of a relationship.

My father however, remarried. And then divorced. And recently remarried again. I have no problem with my new stepmother. It's just... I don't... know her. She kind of showed up one day.

Growing up so far, I've been pretty artsy. And when I wanted the sketch book and art kit set, my brother got it for his birthday. When I told everyone I was going to grow up to go to Julliard School of Acting, my mother told me it wasn't enough. I never ended up taking the classes I wanted to.

My older brother has never been around much. When he was 17, and I was 9, I met his girlfriend. She was naked in his bed. It didn't really bother me much.

On Christmas of my 7th grade year, I ended up going out with a boy who, for all intents and purposes, will be named Leo. He was really nice to me, and I lied to my mother about where I was going to be so that I could go to his house and just make out.

But he really wanted more. There were several occasions where he would try to rip my shirt off, or touch my boobs or get into my pants. Mind you, I was 11 years old. I was scared out of my mind. He would show up at my house and take me back to his, or tie me to his bed and try to rape me. Thank god he never did, but he hurt me pretty bad.

When I would refuse to put out, he would slap me. Or grab me so hard it would leave hand prints, pull my hair, and he had even broken several bones in my fingers and fractured my ribs. I thought that was what men expected. Sex. And only sex. I wish someone had told me differently.

I think it was because of him that I ended up self harming and doing a lot of drugs. No fear, I have gotten help for it. (However, anyone experiencing feelings of depression or thoughts of suicide or self harm, please contact a suicide hotline or tell a trusted adult and get help.)

When I finally got the guts to tell him to "fuck off" a year and a half of this torture later, I had already cheated on him several times. And I never held a solid relationship after that. I had many "hook ups," but never a boyfriend. This got me the name "slut." Or "whore." Everyone had their theory, that I paid for it. That they paid for me. And so on.

Just after I broke up with him, I started basically living with another guy at 12 years old, who started doing the same thing that Leo did to me.

I don't know why I never told anybody. By the time it was too late to do anything about it, I told a school guidance counselor. I went under intensive therapy for 3 years, and I'm still going through some flashback moments.

My very best friend had broken up with his girlfriend at the end of ninth grade. And two days later, he kissed me. I felt really bad because his now ex-girlfriend was my best friend, too. So I told her and she was cool with it. She even told me to go out with him. I did, but I wanted her to know that it if she wanted me to break up with him, I would.

A week later every single friend that I might've once had or would've had, disappeared. She told them lies about me. I tried really hard to make it up to them, whatever I had done wrong. But they wouldn't buy anything I tried to say.

They even tried to get me to kill myself by sending me nasty messages on Facebook and asking me if I would please, ever so kindly go kill myself because nobody wants a whore around to ruin people's lives. I ended up going to intensive therapy for that, too.

Me and the girl have since "made up," but I don't think that we could ever be the same. I've not had a friend in almost two years, and I'm still dating her ex-boyfriend. He knows the story and is very understanding when it comes to my fear of guys and anger in general.

I still flinch when someone moves too fast, and it's kind of upsetting.

I think it shaped me to be the person that I am today. However horrible the experience, I've made it through and am still working through it. I think I may be for the rest of my life. I just wanted to share my story for the younger girls out there.