okay guys i’m doing something here i’ve never done before. someone messaged me a while back about being uncomfortable someone who hurt them is still active on tumblr. they were on anon at first but came off anon privately and we talked. i offered to post their call out anonymously so they would feel safe.
i am not familiar with the tumblr user being called out, however, i have faith in the person making the call out. i’ve seen things like this too many times to count and honestly the whole thing is way too familiar to me personally. i stand behind the person who wrote this 100%.
I was sexually and emotionally abused by Tumblr user veggieblt (Mark) 3 years ago.
Everything started in September of 2010. I got to know Mark through the MSPlayers Ventrilo server (basically a voice and text chat server) – everyone there was involved in Homestuck fandom, primarily voice acting and the radio play. I was a new person in the group – I hadn’t been in a big fandom in quite a while, and I never, ever contributed fanwork before. Before this, I really struggled to make friends (both on and offline), and I was kind of intimidated by everyone there. I felt like I didn’t belong.
Mark was… charismatic. Very charismatic. I felt like I liked him instantly, and that, shockingly, he liked me too. I hit it off with the group pretty well, especially people around my age – Mark and I were both 16, and a number of other people on the server were between 14 and 18, with a handful of adults. But Mark was one of the people I felt like I really clicked with, that I could talk to about basically anything. I trusted him, a lot, which was so important to me because I had had my trust shaken numerous times by family and friends over the past few months. And I had never really been close friends with a guy before - I had never had a relationship and no one at school wanted to date me. It was nice. And new.
We flirted. For me, it was facetious – making innuendo was playful, but I wasn’t really into that casually at all. Even though I could joke about those things, I had set boundaries – I didn’t want to do anything sexual before things were serious (at that point, I was effectively saving myself for marriage). He flirted right back.
Over the course of a few weeks, I fell for him. I doodled pictures of us together, skipping and frolicking and kissing. I fantasized about him romantically so much. I felt so lonely and isolated in school, but being able to speak to him made me feel a little less alone. It still hurt, him not being there, but it hurt a little less.
One night, at the beginning of October, a few days after my best friend of many years moved away, I wound up talking to him about all sorts of things I had never talked to anyone about before. Things of an intimate emotional nature, sexual nature, and so forth. It was liberating.
Later that night, I had an emotional breakdown over my friend moving away, and I went to him for support. I stayed up so late at night, 3 AM or something, just talking to him. And he comforted me. No guy had ever done that for me before.
The next day I mulled it over heavily. Did he like me? Did I like him?
That night he tried to cheer me up by reading a mature Homestuck fic with me. It was supposed to be just for fun, just for laughs. We asked each other awkward questions and talked for a while. And then… and then I helped him jerk off.
It was all really sudden. It was late at night. I was emotionally vulnerable. I had never had any form of relationship with a guy anymore. But I went along with it, because, well, he liked me and I trusted him.
Here’s the thing. I had told him, at some point before this, that I didn’t want things to be sexual. It went against my values and morals – which I know is kind of silly, but it was how I felt and I expressed it.
The entire month that we had this weird friends-with-benefits relationship was so weird. I felt out of it, not like myself at all. I told my friends I’d be comfortable giving a blowjob if he came here, which is completely outlandish and entirely not like myself, especially not at the time. I felt pressured into cybering and camming with him during the day, even though I worried that my parents would find out – they didn’t even know I chatted with people on line. On one specific occasion, he pressured me into taking my shirt off, even though I told him that it made me uncomfortable because I had poor body image, because he wanted to stare at my boobs while he jerked it. He made me get up, squeeze them together, all sorts of stuff. I was not comfortable with anything sexual that went on between us at the time, but he would manipulate me and pressure me and guilt me into it anyway.
There were times he would yell at me, too. He once screamed at me for saying that I didn’t like being sensitive – literally screamed at me for multiple minutes until I was in tears, and I apologized for making him mad. And he would make me feel unintelligent for not knowing certain things, and he would mock me to the whole group, but he was so charismatic I barely even noticed that that was a bad thing at the time. But it hurt, a lot, because I trusted him and I thought he liked me.
After around a month of whatever the hell it was, I ended it, and we mutually parted, no hard feelings. Well, no hard feelings at the time. But the longer I had to process it, the more terrible I felt. I felt like I had betrayed everything about myself, that I had done so many things wrong and that it was all my fault that I had done things I said I would never do (in that context). I slipped in and out of depressive states. I was intensely emotional about the whole ordeal.
Jump to the end of December, and Mark had moved onto another girl. Within days of meeting each other, things had already become sexual – I knew of this through a mutual friend. I was enraged – how dare he do to her the same things he did to me? And so I pulled him aside, to talk to him one-on-one about how I felt about what we had done and to warn him for his future relationships (since I was aware this girl was similarly emotionally vulnerable). I told him that I thought he was pushing a sexual relationship and that things were moving too fast, like they had with me. He asked if there was more – I told him he didn’t want to hear it. But he pushed me to say it, and I did. That I had gone into intense emotional recoil about the whole thing. About how what we had done hurt me emotionally and mentally. About how I didn’t want the same things to happen to her. At the time, I did not have the word abuse. But I do now – and I didn’t want him to abuse anyone ever again, not while I could stop it.
Skip to a few weeks after that and – surprise! – the relationship was still just as fast paced and sexual. And it was around that time that I started having flashbacks to moments between Mark and I. Our relationship had taken place through Ventrilo and Skype, so I had seen him a good amount. I was plagued by these images of him, sexual or not, or the sound of his voice, dirty talking to me, and I was overcome with revulsion at myself and him. Soon enough his literal existence was triggering. Seeing him online would make me feel ill. I had to have him permanently muted and I minimized anything that would allow me to see his online handle. His voice, his face, his name triggered me, and I could barely handle it.
Eventually, his relationship with this girl ended, and he started trying to pursue new girls, all similarly vulnerable emotionally. And when I could, I would pull them aside and talk to them about Mark – about his sexual nature, about how he is very charismatic but dangerous, and so on. I think I kept a lot of women safe. But I wasn’t online constantly. I couldn’t keep everyone safe.
It has been more than three and a half years since my first sexual encounter with Mark, and these feelings have not faded. I am still triggered, sometimes with exact triggers such as his username, other times completely out of the blue. I am still processing this abuse, through therapy and through the healthy network of relationships I now have available to me. I have not spoken to Mark in over three years. I have no idea if he has changed or not. I do not care. This is not me saying that he will abuse anyone he comes in contact with – but this is me saying that he sexually and emotionally abused me, that it did serious damage, and that when I warned him not to repeat his actions he did not care about what I had to say.