Me Too Quotes

“I thought that it was more likely the opposite. I must have shut grief out. Found it in books. Cried over fiction instead of the truth. The truth was unconfined, unadorned. There was no poetic language to it, no yellow butterflies, no epic floods. There wasn't a town trapped underwater or generations of men with the same name destined to make the same mistakes. The truth was vast enough to drown in.”
― Nina LaCour, We Are Okay

“Tell your story.
Shout it. Write it.
Whisper it if you have to.
But tell it.
Some won't understand it.
Some will outright reject it.
But many will
thank you for it.
And then the most
magical thing will happen.
One by one, voices will start
whispering, 'Me, too.'
And your tribe will gather.
And you will never
feel alone again.”
― L.R. Knost

“Did you ... touch me right after you called me brat?"
He shakes his head.
"Why not?" I ask.
"You were too intoxicated to give your consent."
"And?"
He frowns. "If, while you were drugged, I had touched you like I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to call myself a real man.”
― Mya Robarts, The V Girl: A Coming of Age Story

“Emotional abuse can leave a victim feeling like a shell of a person, separated from the true essence of who they naturally are. It also leads to a victim feeling tormented and tortured by their own emotions.”
― Lorraine Nilon, Breaking Free From the Chains of Silence: A respectful exploration into the ramifications of Paedophilic abuse

“I have faced bullying before. Not in high school. Not in any school but when I published my now bestselling book series as an indie author back in 2010 through 2012 and became a target for indie publishing, especially in YA because I stood by Amazon self-publishing versus the traditional publishers. How I dealt with it? I kept doing what I love - writing and publishing, and giving my readers what they love. Indie publishing took off soon afterwards and now it is a valid and more desirable way to publish books. So the lesson learned is...don't let bullies stop you from doing what you love and from keeping you from giving your readers the books they love to read from you." - Kailin Gow in a National Radio Interview.”
― Kailin Gow

“I would never put the words ‘rape ’ and ‘play ’ in the same sentence. I there's rape, there's no play, " he says.”
― Mya Robarts, The V Girl: A Coming of Age Story

“Why couldn't she, at least just this once, suddenly find magical powers?”
― Cecelia Ahern, P.S. I Love You

“Why didn't I report it? Because when you are sexually assaulted by a relative, it's terribly complicated. Initially, I felt shock, numb, and powerless. Keep in mind, sexual assault is an act of violence; not sex. In addition, sexual assault is about power. It's common for victims to feel helpless.”
― Dana Arcuri, Sacred Wandering: Growing Your Faith In The Dark

“Assault survivors respond differently. There's no right or wrong way to react after being sexually abused. The assault can be so overwhelming that we may respond in three ways - fight, flee, or freeze.”
― Dana Arcuri, Sacred Wandering: Growing Your Faith In The Dark

“Soul Abuse is the destruction of a victim's awareness of the strength within their soul. It stems from the abuser's intention to corrupt another's understanding of their own significance.  ”
― Lorraine Nilon, Breaking Free From the Chains of Silence: A respectful exploration into the ramifications of paedophilic abuse

“every story of misogyny and abuse should be heard and taken to heart. The #MeToo and #ChurchToo movements have demonstrated in spades what many women already knew: Too many of us are not cherished or valued; too many of us wouldn't even know what that means. Instead, many have been disbelieved, denigrated, and dismissed, simply because we are women, and this has happened both historically and in today's churches as well. But merely understanding that the church has been dismissive, abusive, or even misogynistic will not help us... Instead, we need to affirm the positive stories and contributions of women -- not only as wives, mothers, and daughters, but primarily as God's image-bearers.”
― Elyse Fitzpatrick and Eic Schumacher, Worthy: Celebrating the Value of Women

“The funny part is my gut reaction is to come up with something to say next that won't make him uncomfortable. What would I do otherwise? Cause a scene? Claim harassment by a man who likely helped pay for the open bar I'm drinking at because he tapped my hip and clavicle? I hate myself a little for the passivity of it, but in professional situations like this, with my literal livelihood at stake, I revert to a sacred little girl who has internalized that under no circumstances should she ruffle affluent society's feathers.”
― Clare Gilmore, Love Interest

“If a woman, teen, or girl says No, Stop, I Changed My Mind, I Can’t do This, or I’m Just Not Ready… Believe Her! No, she doesn’t REALLY want it. No, she’s NOT playing hard to get. No, she’s NOT just a tease. No, she didn’t ASK for it. Sexual violence is NOT okay no matter how much you try to rationalize it. Don’t be a predator! Have some self-control and RESPECT her decision. Forcing yourself on a person is sexual assault, period!”
― Stephanie Lahart

“I look forward to the day we stop saying ‘me too’ and start saying ‘never again.”
― Eva Darrows, You Too?

“Vagina Power (The Sonnet)

There's nothing special about growing balls,
In fact, man-sack is the definition of weakness.
If you wanna grow something, grow a vagina,
For vagina is the epitome of resilience.
There's an organism that goes through hell,
Quite regularly, yet stands strong and brave.
It is the source of all creation everywhere,
Yet all through history it's been kept as slave.
No love can surpass the love of a mother,
No care can surpass a sister's care.
Yet a society run by balls and bananas,
Makes a hooker out of our mothers and sisters.
Worship of balls is but a prehistoric mania.
There will be no balls without a vagina.”
― Abhijit Naskar, Handcrafted Humanity: 100 Sonnets For A Blunderful World

“The date rape drug he’d intended to give me has knocked him out so hard he’s barely even flinched, despite being dragged to the top of a twelve-storey building, stripped naked and bound to a post.

His head lolls towards his chest. I stand back to admire him, taking in his slumped frame as he wilts against the pressure of his rope bindings. He looks Christ-like, vulnerable. His skin is grey in the murky moonlight. His body is incredible. Hardly surprising, since he seems to spend half his life at the gym. His stomach is taut, rippled with abs. His pecs are straight from a swimwear ad, his broad shoulders and ripped arms are built like a boxer’s. His biceps are strong, lined with veins that will soon cease to pump blood. He has the kind of arms that could pin you down so tightly you wouldn’t be able to move a muscle. His hands are large – the least attractive part of him: dry, thick, stubby. They’re the type of hands that could grip your wrists and stifle screams. Hands that could have killed me tonight. Hands that would have hurt me. Hands that would have held me in place while he raped me.

I let my eyes wander down to his cock, which would probably have been pounding away inside me around now if things had gone his way. I could tell pretty early into our date that he was a predator. Perhaps it takes one to know one, but I could see it in his dark eyes and sly glances, the hungry way he took in my body, the type of questions he asked, his eagerness to buy me drinks. He probably didn’t think I had it in me to notice. Of course he didn’t. He just saw my shiny, sweeping hair, my lashes, my clothes, my smile. He saw what everybody else sees: my mask.”
― Zoe Rosi, Pretty Evil

“It's not your business what I do with my body, or what Alim does with his. You have no 'right' to me, we weren't together, we weren't even exclusive. You're not entitled to fuck me just because you were a decent human being and went along when I wasn't ready to be intimate with you, or be mad because I ended up fucking someone else. You don't get points for waiting for me. I didn't use you, I didn't lead you on. I went as far as I felt comfortable, and I stopped there.”
― Akwaeke Emezi, You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty

“Your testimony is nothing.
Why draw caution from a
girl in tears?"

"Perhaps, one day, someone
will see you for more than
this." (The world never does)

A woman receives no justice.”
― Hadley Cottingham, KILLER

“Sexual trauma isn't a one time event. It's something we battle for a lifetime. No matter how much I tried to mute troubling memories, I couldn't. Flashbacks occurred without warning. Seeing the predator at social events was a constant reminder. I was a broken mess.”
― Dana Arcuri

“The chimpanzee with a bandaged forehead grabbed a hypodermic needle.
Michelle smiled and watched Cynthia stab a syringe into the laboratory director’s kneecap. The chimp appeared to be making a flower design. The other twelve needles she’d jabbed were arranged around the knee like daisy petals.”
― Alicia Hilton, Year's Best Hardcore Horror Volume 4

“There’s plenty to be said when folk run to the defendant’s side with “leave him alone, he was acquitted” when a woman is the victim, but wouldn’t dare utter those words when a man is.”
― Darnell Lamont Walker

“This is a list of men who had stupid sex in stupid places.”
― Sydney Stern, The Scandal Clause: Can $700,000 Buy a Life?

“You think you are done with an experience once it is over and it is set into some version in a story. And there it will sit. But if you return to the experience many years later, because you are, say, urged by a movement in the culture to re-examine the treatment of women, an examination which seems to come every fifty years or so before it fades away again, then go, you might discover new details waiting for you, unnoticed.”
― Susan Minot, Why I Don't Write

“I heard a storm pass, our bodies froze
And he whispered in that darkness
'I love you'
I touched the fresh scar on my chest,
Replied,
'me too”
― Vinod Varghese Antony, Songs of the Rooks

“That shadowy period when pregnant women had no control over their bodies should never be forgotten. We paid a price for our silence.”
― Meredith Keller, The Unraveling: The Price of Silence

“No love can surpass the love of a mother, no care can surpass a sister's care. Yet a society run by balls and bananas, makes a hooker out of our mothers and sisters.”
― Abhijit Naskar, Handcrafted Humanity: 100 Sonnets For A Blunderful World

“but for me sex was my girlhood dragged to death he said we were going to play then he always locked the door always chose the game when i told him to stop he said i was asking for it but what did i know about involuntary orgasms and agency and consent at age 7. 8. 9. and 10.”
― Rupi Kaur, Home Body

“I pull the fire escape door open, scoop my eyeshadow palette off the ground and slip back inside. For a moment, I pause in the corridor and catch my breath. Adrenaline is surging through me. Rage. A normal woman would call the police at this point. But a normal woman would never have been paranoid enough in the first place to pretend to go to the toilet, only to sneak out of the fire escape and spy through a window to watch what her date does when he has five minutes alone with her drink. Nope. A normal woman would have gone to the loo, done a pee and topped up her lipstick. Or she’d have texted a friend about her hot date, feeling giddy with hope and excitement.
Now, let’s think about what would have happened to a normal woman.
A normal woman would have headed back to her date, smiling prettily, before sitting down and drinking her drugged drink. Then, a short while later, that normal woman would have started feeling far more drunk than she normally does after just a couple of drinks, but she’d probably blame herself. She’d wonder if maybe she’d drunk too much. Or maybe she’d blame herself for having not eaten earlier in the day because she didn’t want to look fat in her dress. Or maybe she’d blame herself because that’s just what she does; she blames herself. And then, just as she started to feel woozy and a bit confused, her date would take her outside for some fresh air and she’d be grateful to him. She’d think he was caring and responsible, when really, he was just whisking her out of sight, before she started to look less like she was drunk and more like she’d been drugged. And then the next thing she’d know, she’d be staggering into the back of a cab and her date would be asking her to tell the driver where she lived. And when she’d barely be able to get the words out and her date made a joke to the driver about how drunk she was, she’d feel small and embarrassed. And then she’d find herself slumping into her date’s open arms, flopping against his big manly body, and she’d feel grateful once more that this man was taking care of her and getting her home safe.
And then, once the taxi slowed down and she blinked her eyes open and found they’d pulled up outside her flat, she’d notice in a fleeting moment of clarity that when the driver asked for the fare, her date thrust two crisp ten-pound notes towards him in a weirdly premeditated move, as though he’d known this moment was going to happen all along. As though he’d had the cash lined up, the plan set, and she’d feel something. Something. But then she’d be staggering out of the taxi, even sloppier than when she got in, and her legs would be buckling, and she’d cling to her date for support, her make-up now smudged, her eyes half-closed, her hair messy.
She’d look a state and he’d ask her which flat was hers, and she’d walk with him to her front door, to the flat where she lives alone. To the place that’s full of books and cute knick-knacks from charity shops and colourful but inexpensive clothes. She’d unlock her front door, her hand sliding drunkenly over the lock, and she’d lead him into the place she’s been using as a base to try to get ahead in life, and then he’d look around, keen-eyed, until he spotted her bedroom and he’d draw her in.
And then all of a sudden he’d be in her bedroom and she wouldn’t be able to remember if she’d asked him back or not or quite how this happened, and it would all be moving so fast and her thoughts would be unable to keep up – they’d keep sliding away – and he’d be kissing her and she’d be unsure what was happening as he pulled off her dress and she’d wonder, did she ask for this? Does she want this? Has she been a ‘slut’ again? But the thoughts would be weak, they’d keep falling away and he’d be confident and he’d be certain and he’d be good-looking and he’d be pulling off her bra and taking off her knickers. He’d be pushing himself inside her.
The next day, he’d be gone by the time she woke up. She’d be blocked, unmatched...”
― Zoe Rosi

“I sigh, peering out of the window. We’re far out of central
London now and I scan the streets, trying to get my bearings. We’re
getting nearer to Julian’s resting place. I recognise an old police station, converted into cheap flats. This part of London feels darker
than Mayfair. It’s as though the streetlights don’t shine as brightly.
Cheaper models, not as many. I like it. Every time I come here, on
a certain level, I relax. It almost feels more like home than Mayfair.
Mayfair is who I want to be, Hayes is who I am. My veins are the
dark streets, pulsing with traffic. There’s wreckage all around: craterous potholes, crumpled railings, abandoned cars, derelict homes.
Nothing’s ever repaired. It’s all broken. The poverty’s inescapable.
The air perpetually stinks.”
― Zoe Rosi, Pretty Evil

“The National Council of Women in Canada was appalled by these judicial attitudes. It pointed out, before and after the Seduction Act, that "false charges of this kind ae of very rare occurrence." In fact, the obverse was true. It was almost impossible to get a woman to press charges of seduction or rape because her sexual background would then be put under scrutiny.”
― Carolyn Whitzman, Clara at the Door with a Revolver: The Scandalous Black Suspect, the Exemplary White Son, and the Murder that Shocked Toronto