We have setup an anonymous form here for anyone that wants to share their story but still finds it too close to home.


He couldn’t accept that I broke up with him. So he got his Uncle to give me a sad story and guilt-ed me about it and in the process made me drink something that was obviously spiked. They kidnapped me and locked me in an empty house and I lay on a towel on a cold tiled floor. I am glad that I was drugged and don’t remember much. It was both of them. I didn’t speak for 24 hours after that and repressed this memory for years to come.

When you sit the back of a station wagon with your father’s best friend and he squeezes your vagina tenderly and whispers ‘your pussy real fat and sweet gal’ #lifeinleggings
#lifeinleggings Getting a new traveling job and after a tour of the foreign country by your local liaison, being told you will not be allowed to exit the locked car until you kiss him or invite him to your hotel room. He doesn’t care that you are married, you’re here for one night and he’s interested.

#lifeinleggings Using public transportation at 16 and the man next to you decides to slowly raise your school skirt and grope your legs until you come out of the maxi. 10 years later you are in a taxi headed home from work, and the man next to you with the large duffel bag starts masturbating while trying to grope your leg next to him.
#lifeinleggings being told at 9 years old, by an older male, that it’s so sexy that you wear bras and he would like to see it up close and personal. You run confused as hell and he shouts, stop asking for it. Asking for what? I was 9!

I have one memory from that time of my life. I could have been 3 or 4 but I don’t remember. I always wondered why it was the only memory I had from that time. I was at a family’s house. My mother’s sibling took me upstairs. I remember the voice saying “i have to do this ok?” And I obv had not a clue what was about to happen but i opened my legs as I was told to and It happened. I remember the tears that person cried after as well. I didn’t cry. It never made sense. I don’t remember what happened after but I know everyone found out. I resent my mother for making me go to their house and telling me I am rude for not being nice to that person. Even years after. Fast forward to when I was 12. She got a boyfriend, who is married with a son a little older than I was at the time. I always hated going over to their place or vice versa because their son would never leave me alone. I would wake up many times to his hands on my body. I fucking hated it because it went on for years despite me literally yelling out “don’t touch me”. Idk why. I never said anything outright. This went on for years. Then. One day another guy from their family called me into a room and grabbed me while literally everyone was right outside. At that point I didn’t fucking understand if I was doing something wrong that made this a continuous thing. Anyway. I think I eventually put all those events out of my head for a couple years after. At this point I think about it everyday. It’s confusing because i asked myself how come I was able to be numb and fine for those years after but now it’s so vivid. My mother eventually found out about it, she briefly got mad but then went back to normal. They would expect me to be normal at home etc. but I could never find it in myself to this day to be anything but annoyed and just indifferent. My mother never spoke to me once about any of these events. Not even to say. It was wrong. Idk what I convinced myself I was supposed to feel. It’s 2016 and I love myself more than I ever have but I still wish those things didn’t happen. #lifeinleggings

#lifeinleggings seeing a popular meme being circulated of Kermit talking to his inner self where he initially states “there is enough room to pass this woman” but then says “nah rob your dick on her butt and say excuse me”

I went to work with my mom one day but I only went for half day because I had an exam to go to for 1. So I decided to travel and take a car to class rather than hire a taxi as mummy suggested cause she doesn’t like the idea of me traveling. I dismissed any bad throughts from her mind as I’ve travelled many times before with and without her which she knew. She said ok because she didn’t want me to miss my exam. On reaching the main road, a car stopped signaling me to cross but I didn’t need to cross the road so I said go ahead. He then signaled for me to come in the car as he was going in the direction that I was headed so I got into the front seat. He gave a simple smile and proceeded to ask where I wanted to stop off. I told him where I wanted to go and he said okay. After pullling off unnoticed that he was in a jersey and a boxers. I began to think why would he be dressed like that. Then he started asking me “what’s your name?” To which I lied. He then asked me if I had a boyfriend, if I was ever fingered, if I’m a virgin, if I ever had sex and if I did if it was enjoyable, and then asked me if I wanted to have sex with him right then and there. I became angry and scared for my life. I unbuckled my seat belt and told him to let me out of the car to which he kep locking the door. I tried and tried countless times, with my voice rising each time for him to let me out, only for him to refuse and keep the door locked. I screamed at him not to hurt me and to let me go. One last time it was unlocked and I got the door open while the car was moving and jumped out and sprained my ankle to which he stretched over to close his car door on the passenger side and sped off in another direction. It was broad daylight and I walked into a patch of grass on the road , sat there and cried. I saw him countless times after the incident to which I freeze up and can’t think of anything but the fear I felt each time. He lurks within my neighbourhood sometimes , and slows down to watch me everytime our paths meet. I’m constant afraid to be around men because of this. Who knows what he would have done to me if I haven’t escaped ? #lifeinleggins

#lifeinleggings when you’ve had too much to drink in a fete and end up in your friend’s house but someone they know climbs into the bed you’re in and starts pulling on you, and lifting up your clothes, even after saying NO repeatedly. Thanking God that somehow you were able to scramble out of the bed and stumble out of the room and into another where your sister was asleep. Not knowing he followed you into the other room, while saying “allyuh woman just like to tease,” and all you could think to do is go closer to your sister and pray she wakes up. Believing that God is real, when your friend comes into the room while he’s there and takes him out but you’re too scared, drunk, confused, rattled to know what to say so you shut your eyes because that didn’t just happen…

#lifeinleggings when your personal trainer tells you that he’ll give you a roll out because your muscles are all in knots. When he starts putting his hands under your t-shirt and under your bra but you didn’t want this. When you end up in the bathroom with blood between your thighs because he was rough and NO didn’t work… you didn’t ask for that or want it, but it’s because you flirted with him so maybe you looked for it… And you convince yourself that it was just his hands and he didn’t rape you right?

Walking to and from the office and crossing the road to avoid the local ‘pervert’ on the corner who exposes himself and the group of men who insist that one should smile & tell all of them your name and marital status.

I’m a guy but I have to share this #lifeinleggings story. My family was shook to its core a couple years ago when we found out something really disheartening. My brother was married and has a stepdaughter and his own daughter with his wife. They were all living under my parents’ roof and I should have moved out around that time too I guess. Maybe I should cut to the chase because this is hard enough anonymously…basically my dad molested my step-niece who was probably 14 at the time. Now we don’t know exactly how long it was going on or how many times exactly. At least (yes at least) there was no medical evidence of sexual intercourse but there was some sexual interference! When this was leaked to my family we were aghast naturally. My brother’s family moved out and his marriage slowly deteriorated because he was between a rock and a hard place. How to choose between your parents and your own family? My mom was devastated and lost. I never cried so hard and my sister was broken because she says she remembers ONE instance when maybe our dad came home a bit drunk and got into the wrong bed. No sex happened then either and she can’t be sure if he was coherent enough or if this was all by design. Now we begged my brother’s wife not to publicize any of this and we set up an intervention with our dad because he was totally oblivious to the fact that we found out. He admitted to interfering and his heart sank. We all vented until deciding what to do and how he should seek, on his own, professional help (he’s yet to do so btw). Now let’s come back to present day situations: we have all but forgiven him. He lives his normal life and we don’t speak about this at home or anywhere. My dad is not allowed to see his grandchild and definitely not my brother’s stepdaughter. They do not even come over on Christmas Day. Which breaks everyone else’s heart and we resent him because we think he doesn’t even really care. My brother is now living back at home with the man who basically crushed his family and accepts it. Thankfully his daughter(s) live only 5 minutes walking distance so he’s always in contact every single day. Now let me explain what this has done to me and my own relationships. I barely see my step-niece and I sometimes don’t understand what to say to her or how to really interact. She’s now a functional adult, living her life and I love her as my own blood. My niece, her step sister is a brilliant student at secondary level and we ALL cherish her. I have another brother who lives abroad with wife and daughter…..they actually don’t know ANY OF THIS. And I hate this fact but can’t bring myself to revealing it all. My sister and mother are very protective and keep each other centered and strong. I am ok and have tried being a good son and trying to put aside what he’s done to us all but this has most likely stored up so much anger in me that I’ve only released it on my girlfriend. Yup. I’ve never expressed so much anger in arguments before and we have gotten physical. I’ve never hit a woman before and now I lose control over my feelings sometimes. I have become ashamed and so embarrassed. Luckily (yeh I’m the lucky one 😦 ) she is still with me and we’ve been helping each other through this. She understands why I’m in pain and how I’ve become this person with an intolerable temper. She knows I boil under my skin for periods and then gush like a geyser. She’s made me better at keeping myself under control and talking things out so that we are on the same wavelength. I appreciate and love her so much. I hope other people read this and understand that you can’t keep secrets like this inside because it will affect you and indirectly all those you are in contact with. Seek help always, professional or informal. Tell the stories and keep each other safe.

my parents split up when I was 16..my mother then started to go out with men way younger than her, closer to my age, one of them moved in with us. He raped me three times, nobody believed me, the hard thing is someone, a cousin of mine saw, and did nothing. He just laughed and told everyone that I was getting what I deserved. My husband knows this one, and accepted it and loved me despite it. Fast forward 6 years later, I was living with my in law’s and my brother in law kept harassing me, my side was self contained so i didnt have to interact with them too much, he broke in my door and raped me on the same bed i shared with my husband, that caused me to go rock bottom, tried to kill myself three times since then because of the pain and guilt of it all. My husband suspects but he can never know

I was five, you were in your 20’s you violated me, put your penis in me. I didn’t know what happened but I stayed away from you after. All I could say after is auntie it burns while I pee. She didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything about. At times I’m happy you died soon after but other times it sucks not being able to confront my abuser. I’ve never told a family member though, how do you defame the dead.

I was 13 or 14 my cousin’s father came to see the renovations that were being done to out houses. I was home alone, but thought nothing of letting him come in. Going through the hallway he pulled me back by my hand and kissed me. I pulled away and asked what he was doing and his response was “you know how long I waiting to get you alone with that bess body you have”. He then pressed me against the wall and proceeded to grope me and rub his erection on me. I tried pushing him off but he was 34 and a lot bigger than me. When he started to unzip his pants my neighbor came calling for me to comb her hair. I literally ran as the noise distracted him for a minute. To this day I’ve never told anyone.
I was about 13 years old when I was molested publicly. I was seated in a maxi next to a large man on my way to school. I was on the inside next to the window while he was seated on the end closer to the aisle. He started by rubbing my elbow. I pulled my arm away. Then he started nudging me. I ignored him. Then I felt his hand slip under my school skirt and start rubbing my leg. I was startled. I looked up at him about to say something and I remember the threatening look on his face. It was just a look but I felt so afraid at that moment. I sat back and let him fondle me. Eventually he rang the bell and came out the maxi. I remember looking at him as the maxi drove off and he smiled at me. Literally smiled at me. I remember telling my mother when I got home. I remember her yelling at me about why I didn’t scream out or let other people in the maxi know what was going on. I still can’t explain that except for I was scared. It seems like a minor incident. What’s a little harmless fondling, right? But that incident affected me so much that even at the age of 28, I cannot bear to be touched by any man. #lifeinleggings

Having my two older cousins lure me under the dinning room table with dolls and toys. Having them say let’s play house and one of them molesting me while the other keep watch for grown ups. Not being old enough to understand how wrong it was. I was 5. They were 10 and 11.

I was good friends with his brother. He persuaded me to go out clubbing with him and despite me telling him i only think of him as a friend… he proceeded to back me into a corner and kiss me while i tried to push him away. Later that night before he dropped me home he forced himself on me… i cried but he put his hands around my neck and told me to shut up. I basically froze up after that and he proceeded to have sex with me. To make matters worse… he told other women i was a whore. Those other women told everyone i was a whore who accused him of rape. My “friends” said i was a whore… my ex boyfriend said i was a whore… I was a virgin who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and trusted the wrong people…

#Lifeinleggings Getting a ride home with your boyfriend, which turns into a drive to a dark spot in a remote area close to the beach to “chill”. Him ignoring me begging to go home because it’s late. Him hiding the keys to his CR-V then making out with you and taking your clothes of, which turns into cunnilingus, then him suddenly shoving his huge dick into your virgin virgina and not responding to your begging him to stop til after he’s balls deep in you. You curling up into a ball and trying not to feel like a whore after resisting sex for 18 yrs and trying to wait til married. He tried apologizing days later, but I had to cut him off, you don’t rape someone you claim is the love of your life then tell them they’re overreacting about it.

#LifeInLeggings Crying with your best friend at age fourteen after she had at abortion because she was sexually abused.

My classmate once said “I not a virgin. Yuh know when yuh small and yuh parents leave yuh by de neighbour…” She was fifteen.

My friend at school said she lost her virginity at ten. At ten, you do not lose your virginity; you are raped. #lifeinleggings

I went to the mall when I was sixteen and realised that I was not being catcalled or watched by men. Then I realised it was because I was with my male cousin. Why are we respected only when we are with a man? #lifeinleggings
#Lifeinleggings Every single time I wash my car outside my house I get catcalled. This is why my car is normally dirty. One time it did not happen. Then I realised my father was in the verandah (gallery) watching. Why am I only respected when I’m with a male?
Walking to work one morning, I didn’t really take note of a man approaching me from the opposite direction. Out of the blue I felt a hand grab my crotch. I was so shocked and scared that I didn’t stop. I didn’t turn around. I just kept walking. I collapsed in tears, shaking uncontrollable as I entered the safety, silence, and solitude of the office. Although I could not describe or identify my attacker, I made a report to the police the next day. I broke down in tears relating the incident to the female office who was kind, gentle, and compassionate. I don’t remember it as often anymore but whenever the memory surfaces, it brings all of the same emotions. I’m still learning to hold back the hot tears.

When I was about 15 years old, I travelled in a taxi. During the ride, the driver asked a bunch of questions: where I was coming from, where I went to school, where I lived, etc. It all seemed very casual and I’m a friendly person so I answered his questions. A few years later, I was waiting for a taxi to drop me home and he pulls up and asked if I needed a ride. I get in and he reminds me of who he is (I couldn’t remember him at first as it was years since my first ride in his taxi and it was in a different area from where I lived). I get home and over the next few weeks, I see him on my taxi stand and he would always make sure I got into his car. It didn’t register that anything was weird until he asked about my personal life. After that I would avoid his car if possible. Even more years passed and as the taxi fare increased, I made a decision to walk home from my taxi stand, once it wasn’t too late. He would see me walking and would stop sometimes offering a drop home and i would politely decline. One night, I’m walking home and I noticed his car passing me several times. I turned into my street and I’m on the alert as I’m hearing a car approaching behind me. His vehicle passes me and he continues driving. I was so relieved that he didn’t stop that when I finally approached my parent’s home I didn’t notice his car parked obliquely opposite the house. What I was noticing was a shadowy figure facing the outside wall of our opposite neighbour’s home. As I got closer, the figure turns towards me and I realised who it was. It was the same man. This time he was watching me while holding his dick in his hands. I dashed in through my front gate as he was crossing the road to get to me. Luckily my dogs were all out and snarling at him through the open gate. Luckily, he wasn’t braver. It took him 15 years to make a move and after it happened until I migrated, I made sure and travelled with one driver I trusted.

when you tell him he’s abusive and his response is well stop frustrating me…

#LifeinLeggings Hearing your grandmother tell you about her story and how her brother came to take her away from her abusive husband.

#LifeInLeggings Going to school everyday and being abused verbally and physically by my boyfriend in front of everyone, then being called stupid by his friends. What they didn’t know is that I could not leave because he used to threaten.

I started working at an establishment at the age of 20 years old. The first year was fine ,after that my boss started to ask for hugs, which advanced to him passing his hand on my butt one day and even trying to kiss me as i pulled away. I went to my mother to confide and let her know what was happening to which she responded to ignore it these things happen. She herself had passed through sexual harassment in the working world and deemed it as a norm. I then adjusted my schedule around avoiding my boss and never speaking of it again

I lost my friend who was my ride in a fete after a night of drinking and saw a male acquaintance who offered to take me home. I noticed my friend left his cooler, he doesn’t live far from me so asked him to drive me to my friend’s house. Reached at my friend’s house, called outside, no answer. Get back to the car and male acquaintance says, hold on just stopping by this road for a second. He pulls into a corner then proceeds to try to kiss me. I say no, I have a bf. He forces himself down on me and says, “Don’t worry, he won’t find out, besides I’m a nice guy I’m taking you home.” By this time, he has me pinned and all I can think is I was drinking. No one is going to believe me if he rapes me. So I start screaming, begging him to stop forcing his hand down my pants. I’ll kiss you if you stop, I screamed. He forces his body against mine, still begging to “put it in”. I start crying and finally, he said he’d take me home. I blocked him on Facebook and blocked his number. Never reported it. I saw him some week’s after and he asked why I wasn’t talking to him. I said cause he tried to rape me. He got angry and shouted, “Ah shoulda leave yuh ass there like your friend. That’s what I get for being such a nice guy.”

#lifeinleggings having a strange grown ass man follow me on my way to school, telling me that he wants to fcuk and suck my pussy. Terror doesn’t describe it

#lifeinleggings heading to do a business presentation with a new client of the company I was working for at the time. Pulled out my laptop to begin and suddenly felt his tongue on my neck, telling me to forget the presentation and sleep with him (a married man with a 3 month old kid). Having to pretend I had my period to get away.

My after school music teacher groomed and then statutorily raped me when I was 14 and he was in his 20s. He was my first sexual experience. He regularly messages me every year or so to “”apologize”” yet I still see students going to his classes to this day years and years later

#lifeinleggins is going to small party at your boyfriends house, having a few drinks and going to his room then while you both consented, and he leaves you to dress and freshen up, his best friend comes in and attacks you. Because if his fren did,why can’t he. And despite how many ways you say “no”, he says “you wa like it” “it wa dun rite now.” Then getting blamed for it by the bf and get dumped on top of it all and pretends it never happened and like he doesn’t know you. But the attacker smiles and waves and makes himself seen and tries to approach no matter how you try to run away 😢. And that is only ONE incident!

I was raised in the church and was quite involved in youth services. We often had young pastors that would visit. One in particular was ‘cute’ and happened to also be brilliant. My mother let him be my tutor. After a session I left my house to drive him to the ‘sister’s’ house where he had been boarding. He suggest that we ‘swing by the beachfront’. Romantic fantasies I guess, I’m 17, so I indulged. We parked. There was a kiss… he reclined my seat and pushed it back… then there was a sweaty hand over my mouth and nose… my skirt lifted as he straddled me…..I hadn’t noticed when he had exposed himself then I felt the penetration… I kept trying to scream ‘NO’ but could barely catch my breath…. it felt like forever but then I stopped struggling. He paused. Rolled off … asked ‘If I knew what had just happened’. I couldn’t reply. I drove him to his destination. Two hours later I sat in the back pew of my home church to watch him lay hands and deliver a sermon. #lifeinleggings

When your close friend whom you haven’t seen for a few years ends up in the same big foreign city as you and you invite him over to lime, have drinks, eat pizza. You both get drunk and recount all the adventures you had in Trini. You’re both laughing until he tells you about the time he and another male friend of yours gang raped a drunk, unconscious mutual friend in the back of a maxi. This story is new and he sees that you are not laughing. You don’t cuss him because you are alone in your apartment with him. You don’t stand up and call him a rapist because it’s 2am and the last train has gone and he is about to spend the night at your house. Instead you agree to let him sleep on your bed with you, out of stupidity, out of fear. Out of I have no idea. But you can’t fall asleep. He climbs on top of you and starts to dry hump you saying, “tonight is your night”. The paralysis that gripped you disappears as soon as he opened his mouth and you push him off, grab your sheets and head for the couch. You spend the rest of the night awake. And the rest of the morning reassuring him that everything is fine. You block and delete his number, and hope to never see him again. He knows where you live. You spend the next few months wondering when he will show up at your front door. You hesitate to write this cause you know he can end you. #lifeinleggings

He took me out to discuss a job offer, as he was some big man (regional level) at an important bank. I wore a maxi dress, literally reached my ankles. I wore a light jacket, my arms and shoulders were covered. After we ate, we returned to his vehicle and he kissed me forcefully on the lips with no warning. This disturbed me, but I didn’t really have a plan to get home if I vacated his car at that point. He drove to Chaguaramas and got out of the car. He expected me to do so as well. He grabbed my ass. I indicated I was uncomfortable in as light a manner I could because I had even less of a plan to get home from the secluded spot he’d chosen. I wondered how my parents would feel if my body was found three weeks from now in the bushes here because of someone noticing a foul smell. We got back in the car. He asked me to spend the night with him. I said no. He said please. I said no. He begged. I said no. He reached over, and in a quick motion, he let the lever down on the passenger seat where I was sitting. He climbed on top of me. I don’t even know when his hand got under my dress. I’m aware that he fingered me while I cried but I’ve blocked those memories to a large extent. The most vivid memory I have is when I became aware it was no longer his finger but his penis pressing against my vagina. I became hysterical, all I could think about was what if I get pregnant by this disgusting man. I mustered all the strength in my body, I don’t know where it came from, sat up straight, pushing him off me, and said “no” in as strong a voice as I possibly could. He could have overpowered me if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He stopped. I thanked God. He took me home. I was as pleasant as possible. The drive felt like a lifetime. He later messaged me via WhatsApp, I never replied. He messaged me again maybe a week or two later to say he knows why I haven’t been talking to him, it’s because I looked up his Facebook and saw that he was married. I had put him so far out of my mind that it never even occurred to me to Google him. I blocked him after that. I’ve even managed to push his name out of my mind, but the mention of the bank that he works at always reminds me. I choose long pants now instead of long dresses. #lifeinleggings

#lifeinleggings is at the age of 12 being told “your father sent me to pick u up but instead of being taken to ur home ur taken to a bushy area in blue basin where u are gang raped by three men who u know n trust n spat on n called names n kicked it’s having your hijab ripped off your pride diminished your shame exposed getting a gun butt to your head n being threatened with a promise of swift death if anyone was to find out its being left on the lonely dark blue basin stretch bleeding shaking hurting n crying but not to Loud so they wouldn’t hear me n come bck #lifeinleggings is living with this secret for eight years scared to tell cuz I didn’t want to die now Im 20 I have a 1 yr old son n I had to have this wound reopened last week when I realized the driver that I took to go home from work after eight that night was one of the guys I had already paid him n even though it wasn’t my stop I got out anyway cuz the tears were already rolling out of my eyes now I’m back to square one living in fear of him seeing me somewhere in Diego n recognizing me n d worst part is he is a taxi driver in Diego Martin n I wonder how many other girls has he done this too #motherlivinginarevolvingnightmare

Having to completely leave a good gym because your gym instructor broke professionalism by calling and asking you out to the movies….a grown man with a kid and baby mama. You refused the offer and regretted giving him your number….a gesture which he assured you was initially just to inform him whether or not you were coming to train during the week. You never felt comfortable going back to train at all…so you just never returned.
I have been molested sexually an verbally abused from a very young age was unsure on so many occasions about what I wanted in life my faith in god always pulled me through.Through my season of doubt my season of bisexual the urge an sexual attraction for the same sex was so strong at times it was a struggle to give up I thank god for seeing beyond my faults for blessing me with a husband that loves me in spite of my short comings for blessing me with two wonderful sons for healing my wounds so that I could forgive an press forward I am nothing without Jesus

I was having a hard time getting over my ex because I couldn’t understand how someone who I sacrificed more for than myself could decide to end the relationship. After all, I wanted to leave many times but stayed because he was suicidal. I naively initiated sex because I felt that would’ve helped me to get over him. He seemed upset when he picked me up so I suggested a rain check but he said he was ok. During the sexual encounter, he decided that he was going to ‘breed’ me; he insisted that he was going to enter me without a condom. It was his way of punishing me for accusing him of cheating and being another woman who ‘left’ him. After some struggle, I kicked him off. He kept whispering sorry. He refused to speak about it after or explain why he almost raped me. The word rape seemed to trigger something…perhaps because he is a public figure. Perhaps, it also made him realise that his anger had led him to a place that he never thought was possible. I let him know that while I understand the very dark place from which it came, it was not acceptable…it is never acceptable.

Going to a medical doctor after weeks of feeling constantly debilitatingly exhausted but can’t figure out why, to have him ask a series of questions about my personal life. In the end his diagnosis is that I am too independent and as someone in their twenties I should get a man. He very specifically said I needed to be in relationship with a man. I was living too independently. This was a medical doctor at the Caribbean’s premier university. It took a naturopath to diagnose and successfully treat the physical problem I did actually have which was causing the exhaustion.

Can’t remember the age but I remember not wanting to walk that particular way home from school again because I was afraid I would see him again. I mean, he was grown. I never walked that way again.

I remember thinking as a teenager (13-15) that wanting an older man and having an older man want me made me grown up. I felt better than my peers, i felt adults who objected to me sleeping with numerous men in their mid twenties and thirties was jealousy and not for one moment did i think I was any form of victim. I went from that to blaming myself for ruining my innocence, for being too hot or too force ripe as it is called in my culture. I ate myself out of the image that men lusted after and never found that girl again. Today as a mother I see it for what it was and I pray that my daughter never experiences it. However, her having the same absent father I did has scared me beyond measures.
On my way to join my first carnival band with my mother. Passed two men, one looked me in the eye then turned to his is friend and said “she looking nice to f%#k.” I had just turned 13.

Sharing this one is hard… I couldn’t quite figure out for a long time if it was considered rape…. I visited a guy I was seeing one Sunday evening. He had just returned from a one week business trip abroad. I had just passed by for a little while since he was back. Because I sensed his mood I was getting up to leave before we even started doing anything intimate. I mean we hugged and kissed when I entered the apartment but then we were just talking about his trip for about half an hour. I did not want to have sex and I was sensing in his mood that he did. But I was also sensing a negative aura. . . . an energy that was making me uncomfortable. So I got up to leave before we started doing anything in that direction. But he pulled me back and pinned me down on the couch where we were sitting… I was 19 and terrified. He was 25 and very well known. He insisted. . . I asked him to stop. I told him to stop. I begged him to stop. I tried to push him off with my body, since he was holding my hands down. He said he needed it. . . He was in his own zone. When he got his release he got off me. He had come all over my stomach. He cleaned me up. Fixed my clothes. I don’t even think he saw the tears or noticed that I wasn’t there anymore -just my body. I headed for the door. He came and opened it for me and walked down the stairs to the front of the apartment building. Like this is normal. Like it was just another visit. I was speechless. I felt like I was in a twilight zone. He waited with me to get my taxi. I said nothing. I just prayed to get one asap and be away from him. I called him next day and told him I never wanted to see him again. Ten years later, I finally had the courage to share this with a man I loved very much and who I had a serious relationship with. His first reaction was skepticism. It was heartbreaking. His first question was more like an accusation than anything else – “So did you report it?” . . . That was 12 years ago and since then I had not ever mentioned it. Until now.

Was on a primary school visit to a dairy farm when I was 9. Being curious I broke a away from the group and turned the wrong corner and found myself alone near some bathrooms a worker came out and pulled out his genitals, started touching himself and told me to come closer. I ran away scared even though I was too young to know what was going on I knew it was wrong,, but told nobody.

While my father has had rough times, it’s painful to hear him whisper hateful words to my mother during the late hours at night, every single night; especially when she has done alot throughout their marriage to cater to his needs. Thinking back, the only reason he didn’t continue to be physically abusive to her was because my brothers and sisters intervened, but emotionally and financially, he had full range. Which is why he is constantly harassing her. She won’t leave, because of her “duties and a wife and a mother.”

Growing up with the idea that you are not meant to be heard, because nagging is annoying.
3pm walking up my street a man followed me, squeezed my bottom, ran off and yelled “nice ass” I cursed back at him. My clothing was loose fitting and not at all revealing or tight (I was coming from work). Later that day I told the guy I was dating what happened….I started to cry… he told me I was making a beg deal out of nothing. We don’t date anymore…

How difficult it is to remove yourself from a scarless, abusive marriage? Constant harassment and interrogations about whereabouts, while at work..constant insinuations about associations with others men… constant monitoring whereabouts to the point where I cant socialise unless he is a part of it. Not to mention his desire, against my wish for anal..I’ve mastered the art of squeezing so hard that he doesn’t get through… these are just some of what I put up with. Having two children and a fear of his reaction (he is someone with not restraint) and the fact that being in a marriage makes this a bit more technical to disclose, I just live through it daily. I don’t know how I do it
Hey! Whoever created this… I think it’s a brilliant idea. Thanks! – Ronelle (defeats the purpose of the form but hey lol)

I was barely thirteen, just standing minding my business, waiting for a taxi. I remember clearly how demurely I was dressed: long skirt past my ankles, long top. That didn’t stop him. He approached and tried to make conversation. I didn’t reply. I thought that made it clear I wasn’t interested. When the taxi came, he followed me inside and sat next to me. The entire time I was staring silently out the window as he kept moving closer, making excuses to touch me. To my relief, he didn’t follow me when I got off..at least not that I remember. I blocked that part out.

When you survive your abusive and controlling partner and see his own public and charismatic hashtag #LifeInLeggings amidst public praise.

#Lifeinleggings At the age of 9/10 being sexually assaulted For Almost 5 years where I spent most of my teenage Vacations by my uncle, my fathers Brother. While In between Being Sexually assaulted By My Neighbor while I was at home for The Same Period of time. Continuously wetting the bed at Age 12/13/14 Because I’m afraid that I will be awoken out of my sleep to do the deed. Or Maybe When I Was 12 When My Cousin 5 years My Senior Took Out His Penis And Asked Me To Play With It and I did. Feeling Like The Only Way To Receive Affection From A Man Is By Giving Him Sex Resulting In The Many Failed Attempts At What I Call Love Because I Do not Know How To Love .. Without Sex Being The Sole Objective I am hurt 😭 with tears in my eye as I type.. believing that I am worth nothing to anyone so I sell myself short because no one Wants A Broken Toy To Play with. Thanks to y’all for ruining my life. I appreciate it so much.

Not being safe in your own house, in your own bed, because every night your father would come and molest you. Finally being able to tell your mother about it at the age of 15, after 4 years of abuse, yet nothing was done. He stopped. But then, again at 16 he tried, I told Mommy but was told that I was making it up. Being 22 and him coming into the bathroom EVERY MORNING while you had a bath to get something silly even though he had his own bathroom. Sick, sick man! So glad I got away. So glad I don’t live near. Very worried about my niece who is now in his life.

I was sexually assaulted during a robbery, at which my then boyfriend was a witness. During the robbery, in addition to having to strip for the bandit, he asked my bf to perform oral sex on me while he watched. All of which I was against. The next day following the robbery, my bf wanted to have sex, I obviously was not in the frame of mind for that… He insisted, and continue badgering me for days, eventually, I gave up and let him have his way, while I lay there, motionless, in tears. We finally broke up a few months later. #LifeInLeggings #AtHome

#LifeInLeggings Being told by your step father that you’re using your sexual harassment story as a distraction from the real problem. It was the first time I tried to open up about what my cousin did to me and that broke me down so much

Many times men have tracked me and made me feel uncomfortable but I remember when I was much younger I went into a maxi to go home, I was in the front seat. While I am on my way people stop out the maxi so the driver and I alone was in the maxi. I remember telling him to stop by the next corner because that was my stop and then driver then proceeded to lock the front door and say you not coming out this maxi and he started to drive faster. I was scared and thank God the maxi did not have on air condition I pulled up the lock on the maxi door and opened the maxi door and jumped out. I remember the maxi stopping and I was in pain from jumping out the maxi. The maxi driver started saying you mad, you mad and he drove off. I got up from the ground and I walked home, that situation really scared me because I could of gotten raped or worse. Ladies we have to be careful going into maxis in the day and night now. Always pray and be observant.

#lifeinleggings being told you have a big pussy while wearing shorts as a teenager. notably, by men who have known you since you were a child. guess who never wore shorts again.

#lifeinleggings being called a slut by your father who agreed that your family members had every right to demean you because you were a young girl growing up which in TT means “yuh pee frothing” and “yuh looking for man”

#lifeinleggings your brother calling you a cunt and your mother being ok with it. sometimes it’s not just the men who don’t protect us.

#lifeinleggings feeling genuinely unsafe to leave your house, especially if you are dressed a certain way.

#lifeinleggings getting “soot” by a van of army men, walking distance from your primary school.

#lifeinleggings working in the police station and hearing them victim blame and slutshame women who need their help.

#lifeinleggings My aunt’s husband, and his two relatives tried to convince my 16 year old self to have a relationship with him, with promises of money, travel and enjoyment. It was during Carnival Monday and I played along, looking for an escape route. After he caught me in the bar bathroom and planted a kiss I begged some street guys to help me get a taxi. They showed him the guns in their waist and I was able to leave. Followed by years of hyper vigilance over my sister and cousins to make sure that he was never alone with them.

#lifeinleggings At 20, I confessed my uncertainty to my fiance about when I really lost my virginity. At 17 I got drunk at a party and passed out and my coach claimed we had sex, 3 days later. I have no memory after saying “no sex” when he carried me to a couch. His casual admittance after I clarified that I indeed said that I was not ready for sex, and assurances that he did “regular HIV tests and used a condom”, put me on my knees for 3 days in tears and fear, followed by years of depression. Fast forward to age 20, I see him in the mall and he invites me to a party as if nothing ever happened. I start shaking, rage fear disbelief – doubting my own feelings about the issue. I loose it and start to cry. I confess to my fiance. We have an argument and he tells me that I need “psychological help” and abandons me for the weekend because my pain wasn’t a part of his plans. I still marry the bastard (divorced now)

It’s not just the men that abuse. When I was 10 the babysitter used to make me suck her nipples. I am female.

#lifeinleggings is when he asks if he can kiss you, you say yes, and then he proceeds to also do everything else. take everything else. you think “is this rape?” the entire time. you blame yourself because you were naive and should have known what he was really asking.
Having a school project to finish so my mom took me to work so I could use the copy machine in her office. It’s late- around 8 and the machine breaks down. We head out the building and run into her childhood friend. I called him ‘Uncle’ and I had always adored him. He was always super kind and told funny jokes. He offers to take me up to his office so I can finish the last of it. Mom went back to her office to clear paperwork. I sat at the computer and no sooner than I had opened my files I feel his breath on my neck. Something stiff was against my shoulder. He mentions just how beautifully I was growing as he slid his hands down my juvenile breasts… my eyes stay fixated on the screen. There’s another kiss on my neck then he backs off and tells me to finish up my schoolwork. #lifeinleggings

I was maybe 10 or 11 years old sitting watching TV with an older cousin who came to stay with us over the Christmas break; he started to sit a little to close to me so I got up was about to leave. He grabbed my hand and pointed towards my Grandmother’s bedroom ( she wasn’t in the room) and asked if I wanted to go do something that would make my breast bigger and that all my other cousins including his sisters do it. I pulled my hand away and ran downstairs ( I didn’t tell anyone) . Fast forward to 16 I’m over at the same cousin’s house for New Years and he tugs at my sister’s top and tried to get her to go to the bathroom with him. She was braver than I was she told my mum and we left immediately with my sister in tears. At 22 I told his sister about it, she got upset with me , told me I was dumb and if that happened why didn’t I tell someone. We haven’t been close since. #lifeinleggings .

Subconsciously deciding to go to work late so you don’t have to see the nasty middle aged man, that walks up the same street as you and hear him say how much he would enjoy breaking on my face . #lifeinleggings

Sleeping in your boyfriends bed while he is at work only to find his brother on top of you pinning you down while you are begging, pleading and crying for him to come off you and only doing so after he puts the tip in #lifeinleggings

Here are a few that I feel safe sharing. The worst ones I may never share, even anonymously. – In my teens, the holy, respectable ophthalmologist who rolled his chair right up to me during the eye exam. and rubbed himself on my leg. My mother was in the room but not paying attention. Afterward I tried to tell her I felt strange about him, but she shut down the discussion so I didn’t say more. – In my former marriage, sexual cruelty including anal rape, being forced to take the morning-after pill, abusive comments, etc. When I began trying to share this with people, again I’d be shut down and told he was trying to make me a woman of the world/the world is a cold hard place for a woman without a man, etc. – Running around the Savannah in Trinidad, I’d be regularly threatened by a man who’d set up a kind of harassment stall on the corner, with chair, table and a sinister empty pram. He went into anatomical detail about what he’d do to me.
– My sister-in-law’s sister’s husband stared at me during a family meal at the table, telling me that I had ‘cut up my hair and thing’ and that my ‘neckline was a little lower

and thing’ (it was a V neck but shallow and showed no cleavage and little skin); nobody noticed because he is the family ‘joker’. He then hung back in the corridor (again while people were around – perfect excuse for him to say nothing happened, if challenged, because ‘they were there’) – and forcibly tried to kiss me on the lips, when he and other visitors were leaving. I asked my mother to tell my sister in law, which she did several times and had *no* reply (I felt afraid of saying) except a ‘stricken’ look; it was implied to me that I was making things difficult for sis in law. I wrote to my sister in law via email, twice, asking her to make sure that he isn’t there when I visit; no reply. My sister in law has conveyed via my mother that she is hurt I am not talking to her and also that she won’t take any steps to safeguard me because she cannot ‘ruin’ her sister’s marriage; this creep is heavily involved in shared childcare… – Someone my family trusted kept making remarks on my body e.g. stretchmarks he could see where my shirt had ridden up above my leggings; when I walked past the bathroom a little later, on a route he knew I’d have to use, he was sitting on the toilet masturbating and looking out the door to catch my eye. – Someone now a much-admired family man who molested me from very early (the earliest incident I remember was when I was about 8 but it may have started before; I am now in my 40s) and who I normally avoid touched my breast on the pretext of trying to reach for something and then said “Sorry,” in a loud ironic tone (there were others present, who didn’t notice). I tried to tell someone but they kept questioning whether I was sure it wasn’t a mistake. I am under pressure to keep visiting that house, though I don’t go there. There is a lot more.

You were always “Daddy’s girl” and at 11 with nothing but innocence, when vacationing by him he comes out off the shower and comes on the bed next to you in his towel. He asks for a big hug and you acquiesce as usual but then he asks you to lay on top of him and his towel is now undone. You don’t understand why but he says that’s how to show Daddy how much you love him but you can’t tell anyone because they would be jealous of our “special love”. He grooms you and intercourse eventually occurs but you don’t understand that that’s what took place until it burns when you pee and you tell Daddy. He takes you to the doctor but doesn’t go in with you instead telling you beforehand that if the doctor asks, tell him you have a boyfriend in school that you have sex with. Most confused because you thought you had never had sex. You discover you contracted Chlamydia and that what your father was doing with you was sex. Scared and ashamed youbsay nothing about my #lifeinleggings

I was 14, in school uniform on my way to school. A much older man started walking beside me, massaging his private and telling me what he wanted to do to me.
Walking into a store to purchase a pair of jeans with my friends, browse through the rack, only to have one of the store owners leans in close to say that he wants to eat me out. #LifeInLeggings

#LifeInLeggings When you’re at a family outing as a child no older than 13 and you’re forced to hug and give a kiss on the cheek to a “family friend” who could be old enough to be your grandfather and when you lean in he grips your face between his palms, which seem to span the length of your head, just tight enough so that you can’t pull away and forcefully kisses you on the lips. When he lets you go and everyone coos “how cute” and laugh at you and you stand there feeling sick to your stomach and utterly violated at the fact that this man, who you didn’t even want to hug in the first place, just stole your first kiss…

4 years ago I was raped by Tyrell Carter who was recently representing St Philip in the spirit of the nation show. We were supposed to be friends, and yes we had sexual contact before even though I always question them as the circumstances all seem sketchy and therefore my judgment is questionable. After reasoning with myself I told him nothing was to happen between us as I wasnt comfortable with what was happening. I just didn’t feel that way about him so it was best we remain strictly platonic. He seemed ok with it therefore when weeks after he offered me a ride to and from an event we both were attending it didn’t seem out of the ordinary. On the way home he stopped and used it as an opportunity to take what I apparently denied him access to. I cried and begged and pleaded with him. But it all fell on deaf ears. When he realized I was no longer going to have anything to do with him first his response was, ‘I thought you’d get into it after I started’ Followed by ‘My friend told me he put e in my drinks that night and I didn’t know what I was doing.’ Then.. ‘I’m so sorry I raped you and I messed up the best friendship I had’ The damage had already been done. My life was already ruined. Going to the supermarket with my boyfriend is difficult because he works there and if I see him I automatically go numb and my mood entirely changes. I even once had to stop my boyfriend from approaching him and possibly breaking his jaw bone. When he sees my mother he speaks to her like if everything is normal. I only told her about what happened last Friday because she thought I had stopped being friends with him for ‘no reason’ and that I was too ‘mean’. Had to talk her down from approaching him also. The stares I get when I go to buy groceries scream loud and clear at me that he went around telling people he fucked me, but somehow he neglected to say that he couldn’t take no for an answer. He was trying to get my best friend to go out with him, she had no idea about what he did to me. I opened up to her so I can warn her about what could happen. Just last week he was on Facebook posting about how people would say he would never amount to anything. I’m here to let you Tyrell Carter know, you ain’t shit. You never amounted to anything and you never will and you proved that on that Sunday night of August 2012 when you saw it fit to refuse to respect my wishes. When you couldn’t deal with apparently getting your feelings butt hurt because I said no. And when you think you’ve won, so you try approaching me, try friending me on Facebook and request to follow me on Instagram just know that you will always be walking with a target on your back. You will never know when I will decide to strike. You didn’t win. There are many people willing to wipe the smug grin off your face. And now all of Barbados knows your name and who you really are.

#lifeinleggings Life in leggings is being woken up at 11 yo with no pants on, butt feeling strange and not even thinking about what it means. Just assuming that you took of your clothes in your sleep, hoping you never do it again. (although also being very confused because why would I do that). It is realizing a year later, what that night most likely meant. This time, waking up in the middle of the night to a penis between your thighs rubbing back and forth. Feeling a hand trying to pull down your pants, remaining awake and not saying a word. Or waking up a few weeks later to them fingering you in bed. Life in leggings is never telling my story and still not having the courage to let it be known. It is being afraid to tell it in its entirety for fear of the person finding out that you have spoken. It is continuously wondering if he told someone else and if they were going to try again, because I have a strong inclination as to why it was. It is beginning to lose your trust in males and thinking that this is what they do. This is my story, and their is more. I carry this weight with me and it haunts me. I want to unleash but I know I cant. I am grateful for this forum for allowing me to at least put some of this into words for the first time. This is happening everyday to women and girls, and the lasting effects are inescapable. I hope that one day, we can all be free.

I was spending the vacation at my sister’s. Her boyfriend who was possibly 30 years older joined me watching TV late one night and asked if he could rub baby oil on my body. Even though I was young I had a lot of older friends so I knew it was something sexual he wanted, after I said no he offered to pay I still said no. I never told my sister she ended up marrying him and he died 8 years after the incident. Now I don’t want to taint her memories of him . When I was 7 or 8 my cousin who was 5 years older than I was used hide with me to do “rudeness” I.e. rub our genitals together. One time we were under the bed and told me to pull down my underwear and then got on top with his underwear down and started pumping the whole time he kept asking if it was in? Which it wasn’t (Thank God) and eventually gave up. Back then I thought is was normal looking back now… he KNEW better!!!!!

#LifeInLeggins Going to a member of YBC/GyalGod’s house in Valsayn aka Vaza (They used to do events long ago such as Colossal & Birdcoop etc that I can remember. Going to his house being told that we would watch a movie. I liked him, he seemed to like me, this was supposed to be a little date enjoying his company and I was told that his mother would be home. When I got there we spent a little time talking, then when the movie started his friend came over. His friend waited while we went into the other room upon his initiation. I never wanted to have sex and I didn’t know how to say no. I wasn’t terrified and I figured I was already sexually active so I might as well go along with it. I wasn’t enjoying it, it felt forced. I opened my eyes to see his friend on top of me and i stopped, he asked me to do it with him please because his friend wasn’t good with the ladies, he begged me and i told him i didn’t want to have sex with his friend. His friend left the room and he came back telling me how bad i made his friend feel, i felt bad and gave in. I wasn’t wet. I just laid there. His friend pushed himself into me with no lubrication, it was painful. He thrust himself roughly and i laid there lifeless. When he was finished I put on my clothes and left. I never spoke to him again.

#LifeInLeggins Everyday I would somehow get the same taxi driver to take me to school, he was friendly and young. One day he asked me if i wanted to make a detour and get something to eat, i agreed, we were friends. When we arrived it was a house that looked perfect from the outside, he said his aunt cooked something. When we got inside the house was under construction, and unfinished. There were two other men and a little boy there. They all had their way with me. I didn’t see it as rape because i didn’t scream for help. I just bent over and i didn’t care who was inside of me. The little boy was a virgin, he bled from his penis. One of the men was old. The other was fat. Nigel the man who took me there who used to drive the taxi, now drives a big maxi. One day i drove next to him in traffic and he tried calling me in a friendly way, i kept my head straight and never looked at him, he started apologizing, i didnt care, i still don’t care for it. It still haunts me and i hate myself for being so stupid and naive.

#LifeInLeggins Going to the beach with your female friend who gropes and fingers you under the water. I still do not know what to make of this. I am also female.

We didn’t live together. It was surprisingly only about four years ago and with a man almost 10 years my senior. He would criticize my parenting, how I kept my house….all things that kept undermining my self confidence and making me feel so worthless. If he came by and a guy was at my house he would leave and then call me and tell me he’s coming back and when he gets there the person should be gone. Then he would come back and threaten me and examine me and have sex with me saying he would be able to tell if I had sex before he got there. I spent a lot of time feeling ashamed and worthless until one day I sat thinking about my accomplishments. Thinking that by 25 I already owned my own property plus a vacant plot of land while he still lives with his mother. Thinking that he’s never made me feel proud of my accomplishments but always attacked my insecurities. When he got angry he would demand I give back everything he bought…..He didn’t have a chance to get really physical with me before I caught on to what was happening to me and how he was systematically destroying me so I left the relationship. Then he started stalking me, showing up at my house in the wee hours peeping through my windows…..threatening what would happen if I moved on because he wasn’t going anywhere because he loves me…..and he cried…..how he cried…..until I felt so bad I started to cry too. One night when he called me crying I agreed to go see him and that was the beginning of a nightmarish two hours that I’m thankful I survived. I learned that night that no matter how you fight someone meant to do you harm sometimes you can’t stop them. Two hours of fighting until I was tired….being choked and slapped while being raped…..while someone who swears they love you tries unsuccessfully to force an entire fist up inside you…..then takes pictures and throws your things at you and says “bet you feel like a fcking dog now, get the fck outta my place…..and then the police you go to behave like it’s a lover’s spat and don’t even try to investigate it. But at least a weekend in the station got him to stay away for about six months……six months I spent jumping at shadows and turning into a stranger to myself and my children. Crying and having panic attacks just from driving through the area where he lived. Six months until he called again and sent me into another panic attack and I decided that he won the battle when he did what he did but I couldn’t give him the war…..he was causing me to change….I was either frightened or angry all the time….my children hardly ever saw me smile anymore…..I had to forgive him so I could let go and take my life back. That showed me more than anything else how easy it is to get caught in an abusive relationship before you even see that is what is happening. #lifeinleggings

Stopping at the gas station after gym to put air in your tyres and a gas attendant walks up behind you as you bend over and puts his hand around your waist while sliding past your butt. You jump up in surprise but he is already a few feet away asking ‘you alright?’ To which I reply, ‘alright?…you ain’t know you nearly lost a hand? But secretly feeling numb because he is the first person apart from your husband to touch you in 15 years. I no longer use that gas station. Or checking out shoes in a store in town with your then boyfriend when a greasy-looking salesman waits until you are separated and tells you ‘If you was my woman I would suck your pu**y every day. You look real *&cking good.’ Finally, lifeinleggings is hearing you mother admit that she made a vow never to leave you or your sisters alone with any man, not even your father, because she wanted to protect us and feeling sad because although you are grateful you wonder what she experienced to make her so cautious and sad also that the world we live in makes it necessary for her to do that. Feeling sick and sad but determined that any child I have ..boy or girl…will be protected same way.

#lifeinleggings when your father tells you that if your mother knows he will be in trouble so you zip your lips and throw away the key because you really don’t want to get your dad in trouble. And so you don’t get him in trouble… for the next 6 years. #forgivenbutnotforgotten #paranoiatothisday #yesallgirls

#LifeInLeggings My friend could not tell her parents she was being molested because she was afraid of breaking up her family.

LifeinLeggings I erased the start of my story a few times before I actually settled down because this isn’t something for the feint of heart. This isn’t an experience that is needed to attract attention or to gain public sympathy. This is one of the many pieces that highlights the inconsistency of society in the way that we treat the most vulnerable in attempts to protect those with influence, usually men. My nightmare started in 2005. I had just passed GSAT to go to the ‘family school’. For me, it would mean I’d be boarder as my family resides in St. Ann. My mom, uncles and cousins all attended this amazing institution and I was excited to follow their amazing examples. Things were great. Other than a few behavioral problems, I was doing good. I was getting grades and making friends. My teachers saw potential in me that I didn’t even see in myself. In the second term of school, I remembered the star footballer talking to me. I don’t remember what we talked about or how this initial conversation started. He’d take the time out to talk to me in public. He knew my name and according to him, we were friends. That was an exciting prospect. Here’s an 11th grader, an athlete; showing interest in me. He wanted to be my friend. That was stupid. I learned the hard way that no one was nice to me because they wanted to. No one. One day during lunch, he asked if I was staying late for football practice. I told him I had an assignment so I’d be late. He asked if I could meet him when he’s ready so we could walk together. Smfh. Innocence can be such a bitch. I walked up to the door he was supposed to be changing and called out to him on the inside. He said he’d be a sec. As I turned to walk away he called and said he had something to show me. Like a lamb to the slaughter I followed. I walked right into my first rape experience. The worst part was that other footballers were there and none of them intervened. They just stood there. Some continued about there business and some laughed. I was horrified. I felt nasty and disgusting. I missed a few days of school because I faked that I was sick. One of the guys that we boarded together was in the same class as this monster and heard him bragging about what happened at school and asked me about it. He looked at me with such disgust and asked me ‘how yuh Mek dat happen??’ I was confused. When I went back to school, it was the talk of the town and he acted as if he didn’t know me. Whenever I came close to pass where he was with his friends, they’d laugh and make dirty remarks about me. It didn’t take long for teachers to hear what happened and both of us and our parents were called in. I was made out to be a degenerate. This 16 almost 17 year old boy told the principal that I stalked him and gave him my v-card. I was a fucking 12 year old. He even went on to say that he wouldn’t have initiated any contact with me because I smelled bad and had bad breath. 😢😢😢 He was let of with a warning about not allowing anyone or anything to sidetrack him as he’s an athlete and have a bright future ahead of him. Wtf was that supposed to mean? Was I such a toxic human being? How did I invite this on myself? I was a child. Where did I go wrong? His escape from serious repercussions invited more abuse that spanned my tenure at that school. Boys automatically thought that I liked them and wanted to have sex with them. I had used to the same thing that broke me to try and patch myself. I became promiscuous and wild. My grades slipped and I was always getting in fights. I went through a string of boyfriends and had no solid foundation for why I broke up with one or stayed with another. In the 9th grade I met this boy. He was quiet and sweet and seemed to be a misfit as much as I was. He was amazing and we got along great. Things took a turn for the Scandalous on December 18, 2007. It had almost been a year and for the first I wanted to have sex with him and Not because I felt the compulsion. We had it all planned out. We were supposed to go to one of the unused teachers’ cottage. That was our rendezvous point. While we were there, I heard sounds. I was more concerned and alarmed than he was. But I should have smelled a trap. You’d think I’d have learned something from my experiences. 🙄🙄🙄In walked a few members of the basketball/ football team. Did I mention how much I hate athletes??? Especially school-boy footballers??? 😡😡😡😡 And they decided that they wanted a share of the spoils. They behaved as if they were entitled to my sexual favours. Because I was giving as they had heard they decided to take what they wanted. And so they did. I was gang-raped by 6 boys. While the others watched or served as lookout. They ripped my panties off and stole the money from my purse. I tore bits and pieces from my hair and they hit me. They called me a whore and spat on me. The part that hurts most, was the boy that I was originally there with, left me. He knew what they were doing and he left me there with them. He left and he didn’t alert anyone to my plight. The next day at school, I was promptly called a battery dolly. I thought if I ignored it, it would go away. My best friend at the time heard and against my wishes she reported it. All hell broke loose. I think the harshest words were from the girls. The girlfriends. The beat friends. They all thought I was a whore. So why wouldn’t I want to give it up to them. My mom was told that I needed to find a different school for January because they couldn’t allow me to tarnish the school’s reputation. I was ‘kindly’ informed that it’s my words against theirs and my history spoke volumes. I was submitted to all kinds of tests and evaluations. I was threatened and I had to fight. Girls ganged up on me in the bathrooms. None of the taxi wanted to carry me so I usually had to walk home from school. And I kept it. I held my tongue. I was already labeled a liar. Who would believe me? I was rapped. Not once, but twice and experienced ostracism so intense it took my breath away. I was tired and I was broken. I lost. The school went and seemed a transfer for me so I could leave. The boys continued there though. They finished school there and one was even valedictorian. I had the rug ripped from beneath me and they received college scholarships and a pat on the back. I was called a liar because they didn’t believe my truth. I was raped twice on the same compound and both times I got the shit end of the stick. I was swept away like garbage and left to rot. Have I healed? No fucking way. Does it get easier? No it doesn’t. I didn’t get any justice.

Being confronted with pleasant surprise from a guy I was with who was shocked that I had *not* been sexually assaulted. He confided that “thas ok, you lucky. Plenty fat girls does get that right through”. Felt dirty and tainted even though it hadn’t happened to me. #LifeInLeggings

I was sexually molested by my step father from the age of 7 to the age of 11. I felt so helpless. Many nights I’ll cry myself to sleep wondering and asking God, what I did to deserve this. When I finally got the strength and boldness to stop the abuse by sleeping with a knife under my pillow and promising to use it if he does come in my bed (I promise you I was going to use it). He then started to mentally abuse me calling me a hoe that no man will want because I am the an ugly b****. I spent most of my teenage years feeling less than, never trusting adults. He broke me down to nothing mentally. I never saw myself as pretty or special. 😔 Eventually at the age of 20 I trusted someone and told them about my abuse and he accused me of loving it because I never reported it. I was devastated.😢 How can a child love this kind of abuse.. Something that makes u feel so dirty, hopeless, cheated and inferior? (I always wondered if that never happened to me if I would have saved my virginity for the person I truly loved. I never got that choice). That’s the question I asked myself everyday after that. From that day until now I’ve never shared my experience because I didn’t want anyone telling me I love something I was willing to kill for in order to stop it… I didn’t want any sympathy support.. I healed my own way and probably still need to heal some more.. because typing this has me crying but I’ll have it no other way. #lifeinleggings

#LifeInLeggings One year ago on my mother’s birthday. I was assulted by a male manager at my workplace in his office. He was someone I trusted and he took advantage of that trust. I went to him for advice on work related matters. It does not matter that he is married and has kids. It did not matter to him. He wanted to put a smile on my face. He decided to embrace me in a hug and proceeded to rub his genitals against my legs to greet me. Basically dry humping me and whispering in my ear how he wanted to take me away to a nice hotel to make me happy. I was in shock as I never did anything to provoke such a reaction. I pushed him away and tell him I never want him to apporach me again and I was so uncomfortable and darted out of the room. I felt so disgusted. As soon as left the room he message me to come back and to talk to him. He wanted us to discuss what happened as adults. What he really cared about was me reporting him to the HR department. He then proceeded to remind me that my contract was up for renewal soon. So I should think carefully of my decision. I was so upset and confused and frustrated. I am now jumpy when men approach me. My entire work wear has changed. I now wear over sized clothes that is poorly fit and looks like I am wearing large bags. I have adjusted everything about myself so I am not noticed at work to make myself invisible. I like my job but I am losing a bit of myself everyday. I burned the clothes I was wearing that day because I could not stand to see them or even wear them again. It is a terrible memory that is now forever attached to my mother’s birthday.

When the housekeeper of 8 years, who you adore and love with all your heart, has her husband visit her at weekends. At night when all are asleep he finds his way into your bedroom and touches you all over your 9 year old body, and whispers the benefits of him “breaking you in” as opposed to boys your age. Then one day he actually attempts to “break you in”, trying to force his big disgusting penis into your 9 year old vagina, but it can’t fit and you’re in horrible pain and you scream and he runs and flies out as if he’s there to fix whatever is going on. And you sob to everyone that it was just a large flying roach. Somehow you find the bravery to tell him that you will scream every time and he stops coming to your room. But he continues the abuse by taunting you with words and telling you about your sweet vagina which he has already had and will have again. And you live for years in fear until finally your beloved housekeeper is no longer needed. And still to this day in your mind you hear his nasty words, you feel is dirty hands upon you and you dread the words “Eh girl you nice to put in house” #lifeinleggings

Deep inside I’m really damaged and broken because of the sexual abuse that I have experienced. I felt like I had overcome my traumatic childhood until I learnt of the rape and sexual abuse experience by my sisters and brother. We were living in a yard with three sexual predators and they preyed on us. My older brother and cousin molested my younger sisters and brother for years. Its disgusting and painful to realize, that was my siblings childhood experiences. The memories are hard the live with, and impossible to forget. My sisters and brother are really broken and have not found healing. I see all their mistakes and bad choices and I know its because they were not given the chance to flourish as children and they feel broken. I myself is struggling to keep a positive attitude, fight feelings of depression and mood disorders. I don’t remember when I lost my verginity because I was exposed to sex at a very early age. I got immune to saying no and still being forced to provide sex. I was looking for love and a safe place and this resulted in more sexual abuse. My mothers older perverted friend sexual abused me and still tried to speak to me infront of my mother. I really struggled to fatham how I survived all that trauma, graduated from university and found support and love. I pray for my siblings daily and hope we can all find healing and meaning for our lives.

#lifeinleggings When you get invited to a late after work lime. A friend of a coworker (in whom she’s very interested) offers to drop you home as you live the furthest and he’s closest to you. You hang out and have fun with the whole crew. Everything is normal. Everyone leaves. When you reach home, he refuses to let you out until you let him ‘suck your box’. Apparently he’s been assessing your body all night while everyone else joked and laughed. You tell him no and he sees your fear “I’m not a raper man yuh know. I just want to make you feel good”. It pouring outside. You get out and run to your front door. Soaking wet.

He used to play wild games sometimes with my first sister, other times with me; like a big brother would– or so we thought. When we would visit for August vacation, he’d chase us around my aunt’s house, catch us by the waist, lift us up, spin us around… innocent fun. We never thought much of it in those days, we were just innocent preteens. The first time I considered that it may be something more was when my mom came back to Trinidad in 1998. It was April; I was 12 and we were visiting my cousin’s house for a casual family gathering. I was sleepy and she (my cousin) told me I could go nap in their bedroom upstairs. I don’t remember how long I’d been asleep but I remember feeling a presence and warm air against my face. When I opened my eyes he was lying in bed facing me about an inch away from my face, I pulled back, startled. He laughed. “Ah ketch yuh!” he said. I smiled nervously, trying to accept it as jest. He started calling our house phone, and after talking to my dad, he’d ask about us. When we spoke he’d ask me normal questions about school (I went to school in town), reminding me that he worked in town so if I ever needed anything I could call. My second sister found his calls strange and questioned me about him, but I couldn’t really say that he was inappropriate, could I? Was I uncomfortable? Yes. But what proof did I have to accuse him? I’ll never forget that day. I remember it so vividly and everything leading up to it. I was hanging out with my first sister the night before. It was my first summer vacation in NY, 2001. I’d heard he would be visiting also, with his son and his mother in law. I mentioned to her that he made me uncomfortable, she thought it was just his personality. The next morning, July 7th 2001, yes the day after my 16th birthday, while I was still half asleep, the phone rang. My brother answered. It was him. He asked for me, my brother told him I was asleep and that he was just about to leave to go to work. The conversation ended. About 10 minutes later, the phone rang again. My brother had already left so I answered, thinking it would be my mom. She hadn’t seen me in three years and didn’t get off work till later that afternoon. It was him. Again. He told me his son wanted to see me, asked if I was there alone, said he wanted to come over. I told him he should wait until my mom got off work that evening to visit, he said ok. I felt strange. I hurried out of bed, got dressed to leave the apartment because I felt… strange. I walked through the door, he was standing on the corner of my mom’s street with his son, who ran and hugged me in excitement. My heart sank and it began to race, why was he here? I scolded myself in my mind “you didn’t move fast enough”. I tried to keep my composure as much as possible. We walked back to the apartment, I just knew, SOMETHING was going to happen. I called my first sister immediately, told her he was there, spoke with her trying to keep myself occupied, should I tell her I was scared? Was I right to be? Second guessing myself that I was overreacting, I reminded myself that his 4 year old son was there to keep my mind at ease. She spoke with him too, they caught up briefly as they hadn’t seen or heard from each other in years. I put on the tv for his son and went to sit on the couch. He came and sat close to me, I moved to the floor… it all happened so fast; his hand was in my bra and down my pants in my panties simultaneously. He forced himself on me and kissed me while trying to stick his tongue down my throat. My screams were muffled as the tears began to stream down my face and I tried to fight him off without his alerting his son. When I started getting louder because he wouldn’t let up, he desisted. I told him to leave. He tried to apologize. I told him to leave or I would call the police. He began apologizing profusely and begging me to “let it end here”. His son asked why I was crying; poor baby didn’t know that the only thing that prevented his father (my cousin’s husband) from raping me in my mother’s New York apartment was the fact that he was there. I haven’t seen him since and to this day, I cannot fathom how I would react if I did. This is my #LifeInLeggings

#lifeinleggins convincing yourself to gain weight to avoid the preditors attration to you only to learn that you just made yourself appealing to someone else. Never feeling comfortable in your own skin never liked being called cute or beautiful farless sexy because you feel like a piece of meat to be ravished. #lifeinleggings being told by your mother it would have never happened if you didn’t want it too.

#lifeinleggings is going out and having your drink spiked, not thinking that this benign person would transform into a handsy predator..take you back to his home, rape you and then shower you while in your stupor. Then calling you everyday after to make sure you didn’t get any funny ideas about reporting it. Afterall it was your fault for tempting him, you were just too sexy, he couldn’t help himself. The second violation came when your friends tell u that’s not rape, but drunken sex and you should have known better anyway..

In form 2 walking up high street in school uniform when an anonymous stranger places his hand between my legs. Left feeling stupid because I froze. Takes less than a second to be sexually assaulted.

Having a male teacher tell you to not even try in school since all you will amount to is the equivalent of a playboy bunny because your body is the only thing that’s worth anything #lifeinleggings

Telling your boyfriend ‘no’ when he asks for sex results in him trying to turn you on and then sticking his penis in anyway.

#lifeinleggings is having the man you told that you were sexually abused as a child try to stick his hands down your pants in the parking lot of a bar after a night out, then having that same man being arrested for sexually assaulting his daughter. Then having him contact you when he gets out of jail and verbally attack you for not being supportive.

At 5, a man decided that it was OK to take out his private part in front of me to scratch it. He was in my parents’ backyard. At 6, this same man molested me but I blamed myself. I went to him, was comfortable with him. If I had stayed by myself I wouldn’t have got into trouble. I still can’t get into details, even in this forum. At age 5, different man from the first, came to visit my family. I remember him talking to my parents and holding me close to him as he stood. I was suddenly aware of a hard protrusion against my back. My parents never realized anything was wrong. At 8, I can remember our gardener sitting beside my dad on our back steps talking. He took pleasure in allowing his penis to roll out so I could see it – I watched him watch me as I saw – and positioned himself so that my father would never see or know. A few weeks later, I went to our outside laundry room to get something (I still can’t remember what) and he engaged me in a conversation. Stupid me stayed. Next thing I know, he was masturbating in-front of me – and coming. Why the heck I stayed, I’ll never know. By the time I was ten, I was accustomed to people near me saying or doing weird things but at least no one touched me, so there was a respite of sorts. At 13 a man came up to the chainlink fence and masturbated for a few of us girls to see a few days later he somehow got access to the property and was at it again, this time beside the cafeteria. Somehow I was lucky enough to be there for both incidents. Then I was fifteen and taking the bus. I remember holding on to the rails – damn proud of my independence and enjoying the solitude of going home alone… I suddenly noticed a man’s shoulder rubbing my crotch. I thought it was just the movement of the bus, so I moved away. His shoulder followed. He commented on how ‘fat’ it was and continued to rub, and I couldn’t move. I finally got off at my stop and he came off too and seemed to be following me. I walked passed my house, walked around the neighbourhood until I no longer saw him. This time I told my parents and my dad decided to try and find the man, but nothing came of it. We told the police, but were told nothing could be done without an actual incident. I did see him a few more times after that, but we never had contact again. Not sure if it was my imagination, but I always managed to evade him. I could go on… there are about 3 more major incidents. Typing this has suddenly made me exhausted. #Lifeinleggings is knowing that you must prepare your daughter for the worst, that you are over protective and you shadow her because you realise that the evil you are afraid of could be closer that you think or just as distant as you imagined. That everything and everyone is suspicious – always.

I was raped by my father

I would usually wait for my older brother to finish his evening classes so we can go home together. One day in particular, one of his classmates I would usually talk to approached me and said that my brother asked him to accompany me home. I refused to go with him saying I would wait but I agreed when he insisted my brother said to take me home. We were walking when he suddenly pulled me into some bushes saying that he had something “nice” for me. I was confused. He asked what colour underwear I was wearing and when I didn’t answer he proceed to lift up my skirt to see. I told him he shouldn’t be doing this, he told me to shut up and he began removing my underwear. I started begging him to stop and to let me go home, he threatened me saying that if I didn’t keep quiet and behave and do as he says he would kill me. I was scared and crying as silently as I could. He asked if I knew what sex was…I couldn’t say anything, I was too mortified to speak. He laid on the ground and pulled me down telling me to sit on his face. When he was through, he shoved me onto the ground and opened my legs, took his penis out and began shoving it in me. It was painful. I pleaded with him to stop. He didn’t want to, but he eventually did after a few more strokes. He put my underwear back on and told me to stop being a baby and to stop crying because I didn’t get anything to cry for. He made me swore not to tell anyone and if I did he really would kill me. I was terrified…I was only 8. #LifeInLeggings

My boyfriend would make his dog rape me while he and his friends watched

It’s not an easy walk. It really changes you to have to defend yourself from men at a young age. Girls aren’t allowed to be innocent. We aren’t allowed to grow up dissociating ourselves from unwanted lust, inappropriate glances and caresses. Especially in the Caribbean, if a man touches you or verbally accosts you, he’s just being a man, and you shouldn’t take it seriously. Even when we are the victim, we are the culprit. What were you wearing? You shouldn’t walk like that. Did you smile? You probably led him on. You know so-and-so has their ways, you should know better. On and on it goes. List of ways women are inherently to blame for whatever assaults they incur through life. Virtually absolving men of any responsibility. There was one time, I attended this party with a group of people who I thought were my friends. I was away in school and these people were from the same country as I..who better to watch over me than my fellow countrymen? I drank a lot, and slowly I began to lose control of my body. I was still dancing when one of my friends offered me a drink. He said, “Here drink this. Drink this,” repeatedly. I was a bit confused because I wasn’t sure why he wanted me to have this drink so adamantly. So I drank it. I’m not sure what was in that drink, but after I had it, I barely remember the night. There are bits and pieces though. I remember having to be lifted out of the club. I remember throwing up in the car on our way home. Of all the details I was not conscious enough to remember, I wish I could erase this one. I remember being in the bathroom, and one of the guys that was in our group forcing himself inside of me. I was virgin at the time. I remember the pain. I remember trying to push him off and begging him to stop. I remember looking in the bathroom mirror and seeing my face full of tears and terror. I wish I could forget it and I wish I was unconscious for the whole thing…When I got up the next morning I was still disoriented, but I told one of my girl friends who was with me. She laughed at me. That’s right. She laughed at me. Then she went and told the other people in the house with us. By that time, the guy who did it had left. Everyone found it funny and denied it ever happening. It was the most humiliating experience of my life. I’ve never felt so confused, so worthless, so pitiful, so stupid and used in my life. I told one of my other friend, a much better one, who urged me to get professional help, go see a doctor. She tried to reason with me and spent many nights with me since I found it hard to be alone and felt uncomfortable in my surroundings. Not sure if I would’ve made it without her. It took me over a month to do either of those things, but I eventually I did. The doctor really didn’t want to do much since I was a minor and needed parent’s consent for a lot of things. She more or less insisted that I tell my parents. I really didn’t want to. They are conservative Christian people and I could feel the judgment and condemnation coming. My friend convinced me that this was a good idea, and so I did. Honestly, to this day, I doubt whether this made the situation better or worse. They flew in to my school without me knowing. I was completely caught off guard, and did not know how to feel. I wasn’t happy to see them. I dreaded what the next few days would hold. I tried to stay away from them as much as possible. They berated me with questions. Questions that confused me. Questions I didn’t really know the answer. Questions that seemed to vilify me. One of the days of their visit, I wore a dress that my mum had bought for me that I actually really liked. I went to see her in that dress thinking that she would approve but instead she got angry. She was livid that I would wear a dress that was so scandalous in her opinion (it was a sleeveless maxi dress). She shouted that this is the reason why boys did what they did and that I needed to change immediately. I was so stunned and embarrassed. I put the dress on that day thinking that she would appreciate seeing me in something that she bought for me. That was my olive branch after avoiding them for a few days. I couldn’t believe that deep down she believed that I was to blame. I went to change my clothes and came back to the car. I got in and we drove to one of the other buildings where I needed to pick something up before going to the hospital. I got out and ran out the back door and never went back to the car. I found a bike and took it. I rode for hours, until I wasn’t even sure where I was. There was a field with tall grass that I could hide from oncoming traffic, just in case they came driving around looking for me. I sat there for a long while, just staring at the sky. I felt so numb. I hated that feeling. It’s eviscerating. Like having someone tear all your organs out of your body and leaving the shell there to rot. My head was throbbing and I just felt so scared and alone. So many events ensued after this…confronting my parents again, having encounters with everyone in the house that night, even coming face to face with the rapist about a year later. I wish I could say that I was bold and brave and able to fight those who had wronged me…but I can’t. I wasn’t. I’m not sure if I’d be able to today. Life in leggings isn’t just a struggle with males who are sexually suggestive, close friends who are sexually abusive, date rape, sexual assault, molestation, etc. It’s not just a fight against males. It includes females who choose to be ignorant. It includes females who are just as toxic as their male counterparts. It includes females who look the other way when they see something happening and females who condemn other females…calling them “hoes,” “sluts,” bitches, so and so forth. For whatever reason, whether it’s to receive male approval, or just plain jealousy and envy, encounters with other females can almost be as traumatic. I just want to know why does it have to be like this? Why are humans so hurtful to each other? I’m not quite sure how to end this. At this point my head is hurting and my vision is blurry from crying while typing. Happy for the hashtag. Hope we can all find strength in each other.

He was meant to be a friend, I trusted him, I spoke out immediately straight after the rape, I told only the people that knew the man who raped me, he is a selector in East London, so I told all his selector friends that I knew, I also told my boyfriend, I didn’t tell anyone else. After he raped me he started to stalk me and continuously text and call me explaining he was drunk that’s why it happened, I didn’t want to know so i blocked his number and blocked him on Blackberry messenger, then he started to use the phone at the radio station that he worked on to message me on blackberry messenger but when I realised it was him I ignored it, So i sent a message to the the radio station later on explaining that the rapist keeps contacting me and I want him to stop, but it didn’t stop he continued to call me and stalk me, it only stopped when my bf at that time answered my phone and.told him not to call back. Straight away after this I was bullied into silence when the rumours started I was called a liar, I was called a whore, prostitute, told that I have an infection, told I can’t breed, told its my fault for being alone with him (even though we had been alone many times before in this same place before, so I in my mind I had no reason not to trust him, plus I knew him for a good while) I was told that I s??k d??k, and many more degrading things were made up to distract everyone from the truth, that he is a RAPIST. My boyfriend at the time did not support me at all he blamed me and raped me on the same day that the Selector did, this I never told anyone b4, I went numb and stated to pretend it didn’t happen, that was the only way I could cope by blocking it out, I became extremely depressed, paranoid, scared, isolated, I wouldn’t eat properly, sleep or socialise because I was living in fear CONSTANTLY, the reason I am sharing this fully for the first time is because I never got to share the detail’s before because people started judging me so I went silent and held it in, At the time only got to say I was attacked in my car after a party in the car park, I’m also sharing it because i need to get it out of my system, I refuse to be silenced and protect any rapist, also for the millions of girls/women that have gone through something similar or worse, you are not alone and it does get better, this happened to me in 2011 and I have overcome this and life is great for me now, everything in my life has worked out for the best and I have been very successful in my achievements, I’m not saying I’m totally healed because I will never forget, but i am saying you can be happy again, never give up on yourself and feel alone, I care, someone cares. for the people that don’t understand why survivors of rape sometimes don’t inform on the rapist straight away, what I went through is one of the reasons why, some people hate you for telling the truth, they call u a liar and tarnish your name which is extra trauma on top of the rape itself. When you have been raped the main thing u want is to be believed and supported.

#Lifeinleggings So I remember as a child being friends with our then priest’s daughters. I used to spend lots of time at the rectory with them. On Sundays after church while doing his greetings I always found it strange and wondered why he often put his arm around for me but in a way that his little finger could rub on the side of my vagina. In class 4 preparing for 11 plus I attended lessons on Saturday mornings with one Mr. Hinckson. Every week he would dismiss the others before me so that I was always there last. When he was sure that it was just he and I alone there, he would kiss me and try to put his penis in me. I don’t even think I had the buds in my breast yet. Growing up, all of my family’s houses were close. One my aunts had a live-in boyfriend at her house he once called me into the bedroom when no one else was home and made attempts to interfere with me. I managed to get away and from then on whenever he called I was disgusted and never went to him. I went to NY to live with my mom when I was 13. I really didn’t want to go since Bim was my home at heart. My mother had a boyfriend who was a Corrections Officer. I remember being in the bath one day and him barging in……. this was just the beginning. Another time I was home sick from school, my mom was at work but he was home. He came into my bedroom and began to touch me. I became rebellious and and insisted that I wanted to go back to Barbados with my grandmother. Boy did he use this to his advantage.  He carried a licensed firearm. Always had it on him. One evening particular my brother was in our room watching TV so I decided to go into my mother’s room to watch her television. Her door was always closed and there was no indication that anyone else was there in the house but the two of us. Boy was I wrong. I walked into that bedroom and there he was lying on the bed….. gun in hand. He said ” come here be quiet. You want to go back to Barbados I’m going to help you just do what I say” I had never been so frightened. There and then he put me on the bed and performed oral sex on me I felt my soul leave my body as  wondered nastiness this man was doing to me since I never knew that this was also considered a sexual act. After that he had sex with me and told me to watch and see that I’ll get my wish to go back home. For days after I felt like a piece of thrash and could not stand this man. One day while away from home, I  managed to call someone in Barbados and tell them about my ordeal. The person called my mother and confronted her. Do you know what she said? She said that I was a liar and I would just do anything to get back here. My hatred for her began on that day. We were never close and up to this day I’m in my 30s and we still aren’t.

I am now 41 and still bitter about what happen to me over 30 yrs ago , my own father raped repeatedly until I ran away at age 14

LifeInLeggings is when I was 10 years old and my cousins’ father who I adored and would accompany him to care for his animals, told me that I should start having sex with boys at my primary school. He said to make sure I do it at lunch time in the boys’ bathroom. He then further says that when I am 12 years old, I should have sex with him. He also tried to finger my vagina at 10 years old. Fortunately, my mother started to talk to me about sex at an early age so I knew it was wrong and avoided him at all cost. Being the very observant mother she was, she noticed that I was no longer interested in being in his company and asked me what was wrong. I said nothing so she concoct a plan with my grandmother. I came home from primary school and overheard my mom telling my grandmother that a close family member was raped by some older man. I listened and with deep fear and confessed to my mother what had happened. Fortunately no was raped; my mom made up the story to scare me. She confronted his wife and him about it. His family including my cousins stopped talking to me and called me a liar. Thank God my mother saved me from being raped. To this day, I have not told her that he fingered me. By the way, one of his sons, my second cousin also tried to finger me too. #Lifelnleggings is when coming from high school in Jamaica, I was passing a crowded area where a man who I didn’t know grabbed my vagina. I screamed in pain but he just kept walking. All I could see was his back. When I went home I had to sit over a basin of hot water to try to ease the pain. My vagina was so swollen I also had to take painkillers. I was 14 years old. I also remember male teachers in high school luring students at their homes on campus to have sex with them. Male teachers getting their students pregnant and forcing them to have abortions. One teacher requested that I come to his house to help him grade papers. Since I was a “prefect,” I didn’t think anything of it and went. He greeted me with only a towel on and porn blaring in the background. I did a u-turn so fast and never went to his house again. I never had the foresight to report it to the principal. I was 15 and to me it was the norm since I knew so many girls who had “relationships” with these male teachers.

Being continuously raped from age 5 to 15 by a family member you live with, you report it to the police at 8 and they tell the family member that’s raping you what you said and leave you with the abuser, then being raped at age 17 by a boy in the area you live in and never telling anyone because you have learnt from you first time you told on a rapist what telling does, it makes things worse.. Then being raped 3 more times as and adult by 2 different men, this time you tell so called friends about 1 rapist but you are not believed because that rapist tells everyone you are a whore. Telling myself I will never speak again because it to much pain not to be believed, it is worse than the actual rape itself.
Being stalked and spied on with electronic devices by my boyfriend and his friends after being raped by a popular person who was my boyfriends friend, being told I asked for it, being intimidated into silence by a huge number of people both male and females for speaking out when the rape first happened. Being ridiculed and made to look terrible.

Please note this is a worldwide problem, this should be a international blog, please make it international we need to vent also #lifeinleggingsinternational, I live in England so I’m not sure if I’m relevant to This # but I will leave a few lines, I was raped as a adult on two separate occasions in 2012, the first rape I spoke out about immediately to certain friends, rumours started to spread around and then I was then ridiculed by men and women both, I was called a slut and other horrible things and the rapist was praised and had full support, I had no support, I was so afraid to tell my family because of what happened when I told my friends so To this date I still hold this secret besides the friends that sided with the rapist. The second rape i kept to myself until now.

#lifeinleggings…. I was about 9 years old and my so called great uncle who was like 100 would wait until We were alone and push his hands into my under garment, I didn’t say anything for a while, until one day I told my older sister and asked her not to tell anyone but she told our mom. When my mom contacted my dad and his family no one believed me ,SMH.. Then when I was 16 my 3rd cousin forced himself on me during the summer vacation, once again I said nothing until months later to my sister again, who made me tell my mom.. I begged my mom not to tell anyone, she did take me to the station that afternoon, I begged then again not to take it anywhere, you see where I’m from this is a norm, I would have been treated like the bad guy, I just didn’t want to go through that, it is now 17 years later and I still don’t want to go through it.

This is for the person’s who don’t understand why victims of rape don’t always come out and talk straight away. I cannot explain in full dept because the trauma on the mind is to severe to put into words but I hope I can give you a SLIGHT idea of what it’s like for a victim of rape 1, When you have been raped your biggest and main fear is: will I be believed. Everyone has seen at some point in their life a girls/women come out and say they have been raped and they were not believed and they are ridiculed so badly and blamed for the rape over and over again by the justice system and people of the public, to the point that some victims commit suicide, or go into isolation and silence. This can be worse than the act of rape itself. If the person is known and was trusted by the victim it is twice as hard to inform because you have to still see the rapist. 2, The rapist always makes the victim believe it was her fault some way or another, especially if the rapist knows the victim personally, you have to remember the victim is traumatised at this point and is not thinking straight, so the victim starts to think maybe the rapist is right. Some rapist even intimidate the victim and say no one will believe you, or threaten to kill family members etc etc. 3, Rape leaves a victim feeling, dirty, ashamed, guilty, stupid, powerless, weak, angry, confused, frightened, paranoid, suicidal, alone, emotionally drained, violated, extremely untrusting and many other ways, feeling like this makes it very hard to open up to anybody at all because u need to trust someone to open up to them but because you feel alone, paranoid, untrusting and scared you will be judged the victim feels it is easier to keep silent and block it out because at this point they trust no one and you are paranoid, scared, confused, frightened, ashamed, and all the things I mentioned above. 4, When the victim decides to open up and talk about their experiences later on in life it is usually a trigger (something they saw smelt or heard that make them experience the whole rape again in their mind) that causes them to start talking to someone about the rape, they just feel like they cannot hold it in any longer. When you are triggered it them makes the victim feel like they are being raped all over again, by this time you have had many triggers so even though the rape might have happened once, every time the victim gets a triggered memory she is being raped over and over again. some people take it to their graves. 5, This is addressing the people saying that when people do finally tell about their ordeal with rape if they do not give the name of the rapist they are protecting the rapist, No the victim is not protecting the rapist most of the time they are protecting themselves, if they are telling their story years after it happened and the rapist cannot be bought to justice what’s the point, it will only cause judgement on the victim LIKE explained in paragraph number 1 above, that’s the last thing the victim needs. All she needs at that point is a listening ear, support and to heal. I hope this helps those people who cannot understand why the victim keeps it secret sometimes to understand from the victims prospective just a little bit.

Being raped by my Jamaican boyfriend and then being told it’s not rape I am your man you cannot deny me pussy

Caribbean men in England have a large harassment/rape culture too, it’s not just in the Caribbean they bought it overseas with them. Nobody likes to talk about it. if a girl say she get rape they be like, ignore her she lying, dat a mi friend from yard him na go rape no girl, long time mi no him, a dutty liad gyal dat, she a ghetto bicycle.

My friend and I were walking home from high school one day. School was over early that day so there weren’t a lot of people on a particular street where we usually passed. A random man came up to the two of us with his genitals out and shouted at us “You girls want some of this?!?!” while pointing at his genitals. We ran as fast as we could straight to the police station and reported it. Police were very kind and went to search for him but he was long gone.

It’s having a family friend who became a police officer say the word autopsy and you being a curious 7/8 yr old ask what it meant and he proceeded to show you how they cut open the body, tracing his hands down your chest and over your breast whilst staring at you and you knowing that it didn’t feel right, but just told your family that you think he’s weird and don’t like being around him. It’s having a family friend take you out for ice cream on your birthday but having to pick something up from home on the way and you walk into this dark, empty place. He keeps saying we’ll go for ice cream just now, you feel scared and uncomfortable and you keep asking to just go home and you remember being led to a bedroom and then being taken to San Juan for ice cream, but what happened in that house, you just can’t remember…maybe you just blocked it out. To this day, you hate ice cream and you don’t trust police officers.

Posting for a sistah friend who i ❤ dearly. #LifeinLeggings is understanding that even after #16Days, the hashtag, the outpouring of stories from women and girls who’ve experienced one form of abuse or the other that the pain still resides in you. It never goes away. This is where I am in my survival, sitting with the pain. I don’t remember how old I was when my step father started molesting me. However, by the time I was 21 years old I knew very well that my body was something I’d probably have to spend the rest of my life fighting to protect. You see by this age I’d already been molested, raped and stalked by 3 different males. The pain that sits with me from my first experience of sexual abuse is being accused of lying. I’ll never forget that day my mother found my colouring book where I started documenting what my step father was doing to me. In my memory there I was a minor standing in front of adults who thought it was appropriate to interrogate me in front of my abuser. All he had to say was no, and that was the end of the discussion. The only good that came out of that is the abuse stopped, but my step father spent a lot of time after this attempting to destroy my character, making false accusations about me experimenting with boys, being fast, and heading for trouble. My second experience, was as a teenager. During the August holidays I would spend my vacations with my biological father. Who would leave me in the care of my older cousins during the work day. One day, I so happened to be home alone with a male cousin. I remember the day after he raped me (anally), we we’re both out with our dad’s and he whispered in my ear, you’re not a virgin anymore. My dad was a few steps away, but I can’t describe how devastating it felt to feel so unsafe, so ashamed, so incapable. I never bothered to share this experience with anyone. Now that I’m older I think it had a lot to do with being accused of lying the first time. By the time I started university, I was already down a dark road mutilating myself, trying to squeeze all of the pain out of my body. So many days I wanted to just scream it all out, and never look back. Break something, anything, everything. Sitting with this pain has left me anxious, depressed, suicidal, and just plain fucked up.

I was riding my bicycle through Chaguanas. I was about 17, and dressed decently (no cavity-revealing or form-hugging leggings! By the way, the hashtag for this campaign is dotish — but I do like the idea behind it.) I was wearing just loose t-shirt and a baggy but very comfy old surf shorts). Just minding my own business and enjoying a nice ride on a nice morning. Then this nasty man by the side of the road, in his 30s, shouts out how he wants to be my bike saddle, and taste my p*ssy, because it must be so hot right now. So I watch him in his face and as I race past him at top speed, I yell “Go f*ck yourself!” for all his friends to hear. The man’s nasty grin slips from his face and for a half-second he looks astonished, then he gets enraged and lets loose a long string of violent cusswords, which I happily do not hear and ignore because by then I am too far away. I would have never answered him, however, if I had been on foot.

Being a middle aged male and seeing a young female athlete walking on the road, and considering blowing the horn and signaling support to her , and deciding not to given the room for misapprehension from her and others – lesser consequences of #lifeinleggings
#LifeInLeggings I was on a boat at a party with some people that I thought I had developed a friendship with, and a guy I was dating at the time. There were at least 20 people on the boat including my sister, and we were all dancing and drinking and having a great time. I either gave the guy my cup to hold or he passed me a cup, I can’t recall which one, but I remember drinking some of the beverage and carrying on. About half an hour later I was sick as a dog –I don’t have the luxury of getting obliterated and passing out, I get sick. Only a handful of people know that, and I watch how much I drink for that very reason… So imagine my confusion as to why I was feeling sick, as I knew that I did not have enough to drink to inspire the feeling I had. The drink did not occur to me, I just felt this urgent need to get myself to safety. I went to the bathroom and locked myself inside, sitting on the toilet trying to figure out what was going on. I remember vomiting in the sink and toilet, and sitting on the toilet as the party went on without me. People came and knocked on the door and I ignored them, and the boat hand came with the key and opened the door – I remember looking up at him as best as I could because I was completely out of it at this point, and he hurriedly closed the door. Everyone knocked, and finally the guy showed up begging me to let him inside. I let him in thinking that he would be the only person on the boat that I could trust, and he locked the door and began to force himself on me, folding me on the toilet to insert. There was sand everywhere so he stopped, and then brought me head to his penis for me to perform oral sex on him. As this was happening his friend opened another door to the bathroom and approached me, and I recall pushing him back out. I feel like if I didn’t do that, he would have joined in, and probably force himself on me. The guy climaxed and his ejaculate fell on my leg and floor with me still sick. Then he left the bathroom… after throwing up again I tried to wonder if my sister was looking for me, or if she was in a similar state… I washed myself as best as I could and went out in the cabin… I remember a girl looking at me and asking if I was ok, and I told her No. she didn’t do or say anything after that… I laid down and felt this overwhelming sense of a betrayal of trust, and that I deserved what happened. Why was I out here having fun anyway? Why did I apparently drink so much? Needless to say after we got back to shore I did not try to hang out with them again, and the friend tries to make a joke out of it… I told him I don’t remember and I saw his face drop and he left it alone after that. I was embarrassed, and felt ashamed. I still see the guy every so often and he always asks me to call, or asks “when are we going to link up”.

#lifeinleggings is me spending a well-deserved Saturday with my boyfriend and still being harassed by a man, despite having a man by my side. It was a cool Saturday, so we drove with the windows down. As we pulled into the gas station, I was finishing the last of a litre of water I had been drinking. Cable Bahamas seemed to have been doing some work for the station at the time. One of the men commented to his colleagues, “I wish she could suck my doggy like that”. They both laughed, perhaps thinking I hadn’t heard them. I told my boyfriend about it who was immediately bothered and decided to approach the man, calmly, to ask about the comment. The man of course vehemently denied saying anything, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “I have a wife and kids, ma’am, I would never say anything like that to another woman.” I couldn’t even be bothered to argue with him… And all I could think was, “as if having a wife, kids, or any sort of social responsibility has ever stopped any man of indiscretion from being disgusting.” This happened two Saturdays ago.

At university and sitting in my best friends room with 2 other guys from our program. My best friend and one of the guys have always been flirty, the other guy and I have been flirty but he has a girlfriend of which we are all very aware of. We’re trading Christmas stories and drinking some rum that one of the guys had brought back from the country he was in for the holidays. The guy with the girlfriend then thinks it is OK to pull out his penis, grab my hand and place it on his penis. I pull away, get flustered and somehow get out of the room. I honestly cannot remember how/what happened but I know nothing happened in terms of me facilitating him cheating on his girlfriend. I remember going back to my room and feeling “dirty” and wondering what I did wrong, maybe I led him on. I went on MSN Messenger and was talking to a friend (rest in peace Dawn Warner aka “Kat”) and have her tell me to never be embarrassed or ashamed by my sexuality and to never let a man make me feel like that again. #LifeInLeggings

When your relative has FINALLY been caught molesting you after so many years and a family meeting is called where they decide that you should not have been so ‘forward’ by speaking to that relative and it’s your fault. You are too pretty. You are too obedient. You are too nice. #LifeInLeggings

I invited him. I was a sophomore in college and home from university for the Christmas holiday. He was a friend of one of my male friends. They came by my home, where I was with my cousin. My parents were not there. I invited males over and my parents were not there. It was dark but I do not remember if it was late. He was very attractive and I was flattered that he liked me. We spent sometime outside talking and kissing. I liked him. My male friend was with my cousin, they were somewhere else doing the same. It was getting cold so we all went inside. I had to use the bathroom so I told him I would be right back and ran up the stairs. On my way back down I met him. He was standing at the top of the stairs and my heart sunk. I was immediately afraid. He ask for a tour, I pointed to my parents room and then to my own. I tried to go back downstairs. He blocked them. “Show me your room” he said. So I went to the door of it and let him see inside. I don’t remember how we ended up on my bed. I don’t remember how he ended up lying on top of me holding my wrist down, lifting up my shirt and placing his mouth underneath my bra. I remember desperately trying to free my hands, trying to get up.I remember how strong he was. I remember wanting to scream to my friends downstairs but being afraid. I told him to stop. I remember trying to make a loud noise but not. I didn’t scream. He did not rape me. He stopped with the sensation of my nipples in his mouth. He got up. I got up. I was shaking. We went downstairs and he left with my friend. He called me the next day, just to “hail”. I don’t remember if he said sorry. I do remember wondering if I had been violated. I do remember sharing the story with boyfriends and them highlighting every element of which I should have taken responsibility for. I know now that I was violated. I’m sad now because I feel like one of the lucky ones. #lifeinleggins #bahamas

At the age of 5 being left in your place of birth to be looked after by guardians and your grandmother the thought of someone so close to you, touching you, kissing you in places they shouldn’t..after this you just sat alone and isolated yourself from everyone, you sat in silence but in constant fear of what would happen if you told someone what had happened to you..would they even believe me? what would it solve the damage has already been done…at the age of 9 your babysitter decides your at the prime age to be exposed to X Rated videos, she invites you in to her room she starts touching you, kissing you telling you “you’re a sweet darkie ya know” next your skirt and pantie comes off, objects being inserted into your vagina all in your mind you’re screaming NOT AGAIN !!! WHY ME? PLEASE STOP!! After these experience you know you aren’t safe with either male or female family friends so you lock yourself away when guest come over. People think you’re antisocial but really and truly you are afraid, you’re crying yourself to sleep almost every night those silent painful tears. #lifeInLeggings

6 thoughts on “#LifeInLeggings

  1. I was 5 or 6 at the time . My mom sent me for the weekend by my aunt. One day my male cousin was about 18 at the time told me to bring a roll of toilet paper for him. When i got to the door to hand it over he opened the door and stretched his hand out , so I gave him the toilet paper so instead he grabbed my hand and asked,” do you want to suck a lollipop?” At this time holding his penis towards me. I stood shocked then pulled away and ran. i never visited that home again for night overs. When I would go I would stay close to my mom. To this day we are both grown adults, he has 3 girls and 3 boys of his own and i shake my head each time. It left a mark. Your family are the ones that do this…..


  2. As a man I am reading these comments and I feel awful to know that so many women are going through these things. I have often asked myself what is the true cause of the constant abuse and assault…..while the perverted disgusting men are to blame…..we must ask ourselves several pertinent questions if things are to change:

    Assuming men are failures in the area of bringing up their sons in a decent and responsible manner..as you know many homes are run by single mothers: So men are not teaching their sons what to do as men, and they are not teaching their daughters what to expect as women….so let’s extract the men from the equation for a moment.

    1. Are mothers teaching their boy children how to treat women when they grow up? This is not about if fathers are doing it….they should but if they are absent they won’t. Some are present and it’s better they were absent anyway. So the mother must take this role.

    2. Why in so many instances are women willing to believe their boyfriends or “men” over their daughters when accusations of abuse take place?

    3. Why haven’t politicians (especially female ones) been more vociferous about abuse and ensuring that women are protected? Why are serious laws not being enforced to punish wicked mothers who allow their daughters to be molested or cover up to protect the pride of the family?

    4. Why are women continuing to be their own worst enemies? One woman may know a girl got raped and she would even joke about it or stay silent. Other women actually sit in cars pretending to be passengers to lure other women to be robbed and raped by their male friends. Sick bastards!

    5. Are women teaching their daughters what to expect and accept from a man? Why are so many settling for crap? What programs are in place to educate some women…so they’ll understand selling their daughter’s body for food and finances is a low-down dispicable act!

    6. Why do women continue…in spite of all the evidence….to get into relationships with silly stupid men..who they know beforehand are not good providers, are not husband material, are not father material and are downright a waste of time….but yet they hope some day he will change?

    7. Do women realize that they have the power to change everything in the morning if they wished? If a man bothers you speak up! Curse him out, let everyone know! If he touches you hit him! If he attacks you attack him back, arm yourselves. If the first person you tell doesn’t believe you, then tell someone else until you are believed… Men would never take from women, what some of us do to you. So why are you taking it?

    8. Why sit in silence remembering the abuse….talk about it, call names, if people get angry who cares?

    Men are to blame for the abuse and many of us are low-down scum, but many women have been complicit with men in the abuse of other women and children. Herein lies the real issue…while some women fight for rights, others like traitors fight against them. I’m sad to say things won’t get better in our lifetime…..maybe never, but keep up the good work. It’s a start.


    1. It was 1989, I was still married and my Husband was upset about my new found independence since I began working outside the home. He had become abusive towards me, both verbally and physically. He was ashamed that I talked about it with his Aunt which we visited often, every Sunday for dinner. We were visiting one Sunday as we usually did, in Brooklyn, he pinned me down in a back room and took what I didn’t want to give. Even as a wife I had the right to say NO, I was not comfortable doing it in her home, I was upset because he twisted my arm and grabbed me so roughly. I couldn’t scream, it would be scandalous. I had nobody else to turn to, he had his entire family; brothers, sisters aunts and uncles. I sought out legal advice afterwards, I wanted a divorce. He took my Sons away from me and for months I couldn’t find them, the Aunt refused to help me locate him with my children. I had to have a friend come with me and pretend we were just visiting casually and ‘serve’ her papers to have her nephew show up to his court date. She was threatened with obstruction. No female solidarity. For some women their family comes first, no matter what. Its the old saying; ‘blood is thicker than water’. As “women we must see each other as BLOOD” so that we can sup[port each, we must be #OurSistersKeeper. #LifeInLeggings


  3. I know things happen anywhere and to anyone, but so much slime slip through the doors of poverty! We didn’t have a refrigerator, so they would always send me to buy ice at his house. Couldn’t have been more than 6 years old, and no one had ever sat me down and told me about inappropriate touches, but I knew this man was hugging me “funny”. I remember his smell to this day. And those tight hugs as I sat on his knees, his breathing ragged and heavy in my ears. I remember my aunt cursing me that I was lazy when I refused to go, how I learned to grab the ice and dash off before he could hug me. Omg! The things that could’ve happened if he had had the courage to follow through with whatever thoughts were going through his head? I can’t. ..

    Poverty. We had one room. Normally I would sleep at another house in the yard (ghetto livity) so I don’t know how i ended up sleeping on the same bed as my mom and her boyfriend. The next day he casually told me that mi a turn woman, that in the night he touched the little hairs on my vagina. I felt dirty. To this day i feel dirty. I liked my stepfather. ..even after, I still liked him. Only now an emotion I couldn’t explain was mixed in too. He saw nothing wrong with groping a sleeping 10 -11 year old. Tell my mother what, exactly? Her, trying to raise fatherless kids on a helper’s salary? I would never tell her even now, or another soul either.

    If I have a girl child she will never share a room. Ever. She will have a lock on her room door that I will tell her to bolt every night.


    This time I was 15. We slept 5 to a room, 2-3 on a bed. Every morning I would wake up and my breasts would be out of my bra. At first, I thought, I just ‘slept bad’ and my brassiere rode up in the night, but deep down I knew it was rubbish. The first night I actually felt his hand in there I froze. I pretended to turn over in my sleep and he quickly pulled it out and went back to his bed. What was I to do? I felt so ashamed. One night I pretended to be asleep, waited for him and made an uproar. You know what my aunt said? “Oonu stop the noise…nuh bother call down the disgrace”. They cared more about what people thought than about how i felt. After the initial outburst, no one ever spoke of it, at least not in my presence. It’s been 20 years and i still do not speak to him. If a conversation is going on I speak around him. Do they even remember the incident, I wonder? My family? I was 15 years old, on the cusp of womanhood. Didn’t someone think it was important to say something to me, didn’t they think it would mess me up? It damn well did. I remind myself that he was 15 too…


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