I, Rape Survivor, proclaim that men do get raped, I know this because I was raped. You read that right, and I make no apologies to those who may be offended. Today, I am breaking my silence and coming forward with my story of survival...

The first time someone attempted to sexually assault me, I was just turning 16 and homeless in the streets of New Orleans. I was hanging outside of one of the bars on Rampart (in the French Quarter) and I was starving. To make a long story short, I met a guy and simply asked if I could crash at his place and for food. Thinking that he would be a good samaritan, I got into his car, we went to a fast food restaurant near his house and got food. What happened next made me feel uneasy, he had me to sit in his kitchen and watch him cut the hamburger he purchased in half. I had a terrible feeling as he walked over and handed me half of the burger with the knife still in his hand. “you can have the other half of the burger when we are done fucking.” As I refused his advance, he slapped the burger out of my hand and inched closer with the knife. I stood up and continued to refuse and he grabbed me, and he said “Get the fuck out of my house.” As small as this may seem, it prepared me for something much worse...

Rape - is a type of sexual assault usually involving sexual intercourse or other forms of sexual penetration perpetrated against a person without that person’s consent.

As few months later, I spent the night by this guy who I built some trust with, I needed somewhere to lay my head and food on my stomach. He cooked, we watched tv with his friends and after his friends left he made space for me to sleep on his day bed. The last thing that I remember is the smell of italian food and being extremely tired before I went into a deep sleep. I woke up to shockwaves of pain as I lay in a headlock. The smell of blood and spit hit my nose... ***Trigger warning, please CLICK HERE to continue reading.***