Today’s Episode Of Victim Blaming

Urban Teens in London, Shoreditch, London, UK

This is the first entry into the Stories that actually touch series, please enjoy.

“For a very long time, I viewed myself as a slut. How could I have enjoyed what they did to me when it was so wrong? The only explanation in my head was that I was a whore or at least had the tendency to be one. I was already slut shaming myself and everyone else from an early age. I was confused and knew it but I couldn’t bring myself to seek answers.Everyone who knew me thought I was chaste but in reality I was just afraid of unleashing my so called slutty side. I was no saint but acted like one. To my friends I was the 21st century Virgin Mary. You talk about sex around me? It was instant judgment from me to you. In my head it was a different ball game entirely. I would masturbate in the dark of my room then go out and condemn it. I was constantly thirsting after guys but would shun my friends for taking interest in a guy. I was living a lie and I knew it. I couldn’t bring myself to confronting the past. I was very ashamed.

One day I slipped and told my story, I was tired of everything. She told me I needed help and that I had condemned myself for too long. She told me to let learn from the past instead of running away from it. This beautiful woman told me that I had allowed my demons control me for too long. She was very right. From then I knew I had to change and get out of the prison cell, I so carefully constructed for myself. I began to research and seek solution for myself. From the many visits to my shrink, I realized I was an hyper-sexual who was on the verge of exploding. My definition for myself all these years was Slut. I had misdiagnosed myself for far too long. So I set out on a path of self recovery, for answers I so desperately needed. I started to explore. I accepted the fact that my hormones were already awake ever since I was a child. And that it wasn’t my fault I was molested and abused. I did not enjoy it either, I was just responding to situations beyond my control. How else would it have been for a 4 year old who had every old man on the street dipping into her panties searching for her sex? What could I have possibly done at 5 when I was dry-humped by two teenagers? I did not know what was going on or why I was excited. I was simply responding to things beyond my control. I still remember every single thing; I still recollect all that happened. I tell people I don’t ever forget and they think it is a joke. I don’t see what is funny when every night before I go to bed I relive the past.

I remember how I was sent to deliver a message to a married man with children of his own. I had been sent by my mum and we were so unaware of what was to come next. I remember how he sat me down and began touching me all over as he whispered “good girl” in my ears. I tried to take his hands away, to run and never return. I did not know what was going on but it felt so wrong. When he kept going deeper and I began to hurt, I just started crying. I think God came to my rescue because he finally let me go and I ran four forty back home. Never told anybody what happened when I got home and still don’t know why. He wasn’t the only one; there were about five other similar cases. I still cry whenever I think of it. I still remember my past vividly but I’m ready to be alright.

I’m not a whore, I’m just hyper-sexual. I’m not a hypocrite any longer, I dropped that double life. I am Carol and this is my story.”



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