The Weight of Silence: Unheard Stories of Survival

Sometimes, running away is not the solution. Sometimes, the only way forward is to stop, think, analyze, and act. Yet, how many people fail in this process? How many find themselves trapped in the same painful cycle, starting repeatedly, only to realize too late that their efforts were in vain?

People carry burdens shaped by their experiences, their pasts molding their lives in unexpected ways. For some, a single event — or a series of them — completely alters their trajectory. The effects of sexual abuse, assault, and human trafficking can last well into adulthood, surfacing in their thirties or even forties when the weight of suppressed trauma becomes unbearable.

Yet, despite the profound impact of these experiences, many survivors are met with silence, disbelief, or even blame. Society often fails to acknowledge the pain of male survivors, dismissing their trauma or forcing them into a culture of quiet endurance. This lack of recognition deepens their isolation, making it even harder to seek help, process their past, or find a path toward healing.

The scars of abuse — both seen and unseen — do not simply fade away. They manifest in unexpected ways: in relationships, in self-worth, in the ability to trust or feel safe. But when these wounds are denied a voice, they fester, shaping lives in ways that survivors never chose. The following are the voices of those who endured the unimaginable, stepping forward after years of silence.

The Unheard Voices

Assault is assault. Regardless of gender, it leaves scars — seen or unseen. But male survivors often remain silent, their pain ignored or dismissed. When left unaddressed, that pain festers, consuming them from within.

In one instance, a young boy lived in a small house with his mother, a government school teacher, and his sister. Every day, his mother would drop them at their father’s family home, a place filled with relatives and cousins. It seemed like a normal, bustling family environment. But when no one was watching, the older cousins took advantage of the boy’s innocence. He couldn’t remember for how long it went on, but the memories remained fragmented — flashes of large figures hovering over him, taking turns, their presence looming like shadows in the dim light. The details blurred over time, but he often wondered: did this shape who he became? Did the silent scars left behind dictate his life in ways he couldn’t understand?

Another survivor spoke of how he always felt different — weak, afraid, and broken. He cried often, questioning why he was made this way. Then, in sixth standard, a new bus conductor joined his school bus route. Unlike others, this man showed him kindness, offering him attention and comfort in a way that felt good. That kindness, however, came with an insidious cost. One day, the conductor came to his house when no one was home. What happened next left him confused, unsure if it was normal or something far worse. The conductor introduced him to others who showered him with similar attention, making him feel special and wanted. Soon, meetings were arranged in secluded places, and the truth became evident — he was being sold. Repeatedly. Strangers handed over money, but he only received a small fraction of it. Yet, it was never about money. It was about feeling valued, about finally belonging.

As he grew older, he knew he had to escape. He left for a different city, hoping the distance would bring peace. But the silence was unbearable. The pain, the anxiety, the memories — they all grew louder. One day, he tried to end it all. He failed, as he always seemed to. Now, he merely tries to survive with the ghosts of his past still haunting him.

Another survivor recounted how his father, a social sciences teacher, conducted private tuitions at home. Older students often came to study. As a young boy in seventh standard, he admired them, respected them, even looked up to them. One evening, a student asked to use the washroom. Hesitant but obedient, the boy guided him to the house’s only bedroom, where the washroom was. As soon as they entered, the door was locked behind them. What happened next shattered him. He was too young to understand, too afraid to resist. It continued for weeks until the perpetrator was finally caught. His father confronted the older student, even slapped him. But the very next day, that same boy was back, sitting among the other students, being taught like nothing had ever happened. The young boy remained there too, frozen in fear, waiting for it to happen again. That was the moment he made a decision: once he was old enough, he would leave and never look back.

Breaking the Silence

These stories are not isolated incidents. They are echoes of countless unheard voices, buried under shame, fear, and a society that refuses to acknowledge male survivors. The trauma of sexual abuse and human trafficking leaves wounds that never fully heal, reshaping lives in irreversible ways.

We must listen. We must speak up. We must ensure that survivors — regardless of gender — receive the justice, support, and healing they deserve.

The Silent Scars We Carry

These experiences are not fiction. They belong to many who live among us, silenced by the weight of their trauma and the fear of being dismissed. The stories of survivors, fragmented and hidden, need to be heard. They need to be acknowledged.

If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out. You are not alone. Here are some resources available in India:

• Childline India (1098): A free, 24-hour helpline for children in distress.
• Rahi Foundation: An organization that provides support for survivors of child sexual abuse.
• Arpan India: Offers counseling and awareness programs for survivors and their families.
• National Commission for Women (NCW Helpline: 7827170170): Assists in cases of sexual violence and harassment.
• Snehi India (Mental Health Support: +91 9582208181): Provides emotional support and crisis intervention.

The silent scars of abuse do not have to define you. There is help. There is healing. And there is hope.