#metoo
You are not alone. Together we can de-stigmatize speaking out about our experiences with sexual harassment, assault, and more.
Coffee & Crime
I couldn’t figure out where to place the million jumbled thoughts I have. They swarm in my head like bees that, unlike real ones, refuse to become endangered. One voice in my head told me to write poetry, the jagged kind that doesn’t have to make too much sense or rhyme. Another voice told me to write a book, but that requires telling more of what you would call the “story.”
Clarisse GuevarraPublished 6 years ago in VivaSexual Assault Awareness Month
As few people know or acknowledge, April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month, so I have decided to write an article about the topic and also share my personal experience.
Josie ElizabethPublished 6 years ago in VivaRapist in What Used to Be My Home
It was a few days before Christmas. The season of giving, as we all call it. My mother and I were driving to have lunch at a local bagel shop that we quite enjoy. It was a Sunday, coldest day of the year so far. It was -20 degrees F before wind chill.
Unexpected Friendship Final Chapter
So yes, I went back. After all of that I went back. I was afraid of what life might be like if I left, afraid of what he might do. I stayed for another year and half. I went through more abuse, physical and emotional. The fights would get to the point of no return each time ending in me in tears and trying to leave but he would block my way out. I contemplated jumping off our three-story patio on more than one occasion just to escape him.
RaeAnna MercadoPublished 6 years ago in VivaPain Part I
Pain. Pain is something that lets you know you're alive. At least that's what I used to tell myself. My story is long and painful. If anyone has even read the book The Child Called It, then you partially know my story.
Angie KemterPublished 6 years ago in VivaWhen I Was Raped
I am writing this because I need to tell my story. I have been hiding this for so long and I don't want to be embarrassed anymore and feel like a victim. I don't want to have to pretend to be someone I'm not or fake a smile.
The #MeToo Gift
#NoMoreShame I love that idea, that hashtag… I really do. Do you hear the “but” coming? BUT: I have an issue with the slogan I love, the slogan that I am living on the outside and trying to live on the inside. Is there really such a thing as #NoMoreShame?? Can it really be achieved? I feel this strange sort of pressure to comply and act as though I have already achieved it—but I won’t do that, no matter the pressure, as I know it defeats the purpose… my purpose.
Marnie GrundmanPublished 6 years ago in VivaSixteen
This story is true. I don't post it for sympathy or empathy. I post is so others are aware. So you can see the signs. So no one has this happen to them on a day that is supposed to be amazing!
Kara OssolaPublished 6 years ago in VivaThat Morning on The Bathroom Floor
I’ll be the first to admit it — I was a real slut in high school. Heck, I was a slut after high school and continue to be a slut to this day. I’m damn proud of it too. I can give a blowjob that’ll have you gushing in mere minutes. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. Or rather, write about.
Little WandererPublished 6 years ago in Viva#Me Too
ME TOO! I was debating writing this but my story should be heard and I'm using real names. When I was 12/13, my first boyfriend, David, physically, mentally, and sexually assaulted me. I didn't want or was ready having sex. But he was so manipulative. He would constantly tell me how hideous I was, that no one would want me but him. He controlled how I wore my hair and makeup and who I hung out with. So he finally talked me into giving him a hand job, I hated every second of it and hated myself. This became a regular thing. One night he wanted head and I refused and he held a knife to my throat, convinced I didn't trust him or was cheating on him. I didn't have to do it. We went to different high schools and the last thing he said to me was have fun getting rapped in Abington (Abington is a really nice town).
Kaitlyn ParkerPublished 6 years ago in VivaWhat I Learned by Leaving My Abuser
For the longest time I was in denial about being a victim of domestic violence. When I finally came to accept it, escape seemed dangerous and impossible. It was anything but easy, however walking away taught me much more than I had anticipated.
Kody KlinePublished 6 years ago in VivaA Difficult Day
The man that took everything from me called today. I had moved on. When I say "moved on," I mean that I stopped having the haunting nightmares that made me wake up screaming. I stopped looking over my shoulder to see if he is there, following me. I mean that instead of thinking about it a million times a day and all the things I should have done differently, I only think of it once or twice.