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Essays

First-person stories from sexual assault survivors

Dissociation

It streaked into my vision and startled me, a gray blur in the corner of my eye. Then I saw it— inches from my left foot and looking up at me, a house mouse...

I was never broken

I'll never forgive you for what you did. But I'll also never forget what I realized in the months that followed after you so selfishly decided to have your way with me. You see,...
blue butterfly on green leaf photo by Vincent Van Zalinge

Treading

I could feel pieces of myself breaking.
grassy park photo by Patrick Graham

Once more, but quieter

So many survivors doubt their own experiences.
New York City bar R is for rape essay photo by Michael Discenza Survivor Lit, the sexual assault magazine

R is for rape

Even in my own mind I cannot say it. It remains the “R” word or, euphemistically, “the incident.” I know, intellectually, that the R stands for “rape,” but I can’t say it.
wildfire as metaphor for sexual assault photo by Benjamin Lizardo

Assault

A storm inside the mind is not so different from a wildfire.
tarot card spread by Soulful Stock

You can’t heal trauma with a spiritual bypass

No amount of forgiveness, meditation or crystals was going to put that genie back in the bottle.
photo of cathedral by Francesco Alberti featured on Survivor Lit, a literary magazine for and by sexual assault survivors

The confession

I felt nothing when he died.  
stop sign photo by Anwaar Ali

Stop is a complete sentence

I’m a baby. The monster comes to life here, before I have words. Before I can say stop. If I could, I would scream the word until I’m hoarse.
Woman in shadows with a focus on the neck photo by Ting Tian featured on Survivor Lit, a literary magazine for sexual assault survivors

Blue earring

Something has gone dead inside me.

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On my street I am witness to the young men who carry the pink-flowered backpacks of little girls, who...