"Even with a close friend, I didn't feel safe”

Trigger Warning: The following narrative contains content related to experiences of Gender-Based Violence (GBV).

Imaara stands as a beacon of resilience, founded by survivors of Gender-Based Violence (GBV) for survivors. Every aspect of our NGO is crafted with the deep understanding that only those who have endured the harrowing journey of survival truly comprehend its nuances. From our programs to our support networks, we are driven by the unwavering commitment to empower fellow survivors. Each story shared within our community is a testament to the strength and courage that resides within every survivor. Together, we create a safe space where voices silenced by fear and shame are given power. Our mission is not merely to offer aid but to ignite a spark of hope in the hearts of those who have felt the darkest depths of despair. In this sanctuary of understanding and solidarity, survivors find solace, healing, and the unwavering belief that they are not defined by their past traumas, but by the strength it took to survive them.

The Words of an Anonymous Survivor

My experience with Gender-Based Violence (GBV) didn't come from a stranger in a dark alley, but from a trusted friend during my undergraduate days. I had a very close friend with whom I shared everything, from visiting each other's houses to skipping classes together. Even though there were whispered rumors about her sexuality, I chose to trust her. However, everything changed one day on an empty bus when she asked me to close my eyes for a "gift" and suddenly tried to force a kiss on my lips. Shocked and terrified, I screamed and immediately left. Though she apologized and I tried to forgive her due to our past history, she tried to misbehave with me a second time when I visited her house later. That repetition was my ultimate breaking point, making me realize that boundary violations and harassment can happen anywhere, even within a friendship you blindly trust.

The mental and emotional impact of this experience stayed with me for a very long time, developing into a deep-seated anxiety and paranoia. It reached a point where I started feeling intensely unsafe and panicked even when other girls simply stood or sat too close to me in public spaces. In hindsight, I now recognize specific early warning signs, such as how she intentionally used the complete isolation of an empty bus or an empty room to target me when I was vulnerable and trapped. The biggest misconception people have about survivors is asking why we give second chances or don't leave immediately. They fail to understand that survivors inherently want to trust the people they care about, and giving a second chance is a reflection of our empathy, not our weakness.

Societal and cultural norms played a massive role in making me feel isolated because our community's discussions around GBV almost exclusively focus on male-on-female dynamics. Because this incident involved two women, there was absolutely no cultural blueprint or awareness for peer-to-peer harassment, which often causes society to dismiss, ignore, or even fetishize such boundary violations. Today, reclaiming my voice and empowerment means breaking my silence, sharing my raw truth without carrying the perpetrator's shame, and setting unshakeable personal boundaries. To any other survivor currently struggling in silence, your pain is entirely valid even if it doesn't fit the traditional stereotype of abuse, and you possess the inner strength to rebuild your trust, heal completely, and look forward to a safe future that you fully control.