I was the 6th-grade "slut." And I kept a diary. So I decided to create The UnSlut Project in the hopes that my own diary entries could provide some perspective to girls who currently feel trapped and ashamed. I am publishing these entries one at a time, without changing a single word except for the names of the people involved. My limited commentary, which is confined to brackets in each entry, is meant to provide the relief of my current perspective, fifteen years later. The UnSlut Project: Working to undo the dangerous slut shaming in our schools, communities, media, and culture by sharing knowledge and experiences.

"Despite 7 million colors being visible to the human eye, and 48 of your color pencils available for you to use, why are you only using the black, white, and red ones?" I looked down and tried to think of the answer. I don't know, maybe because black is my dark days lacking you, white is all the emptiness I felt, and red... Is the color of my bleeding conscience. As I don't want to let him down, I kept those answers to myself. And all I said was "You want me to start using other colors too?" "As much as I want you to start opening your heart, to the fact that you have many other people who loves you and cares about you, and that it's not only me." I froze as I am not able to give him an answer to that. I hate lying. But I hated disappointing him even more. started: 08/08/15 completed: 23/06/17

"Oh, look, we're back home! You'll be a lamb for me now, right? Unless you'd like a bullet in that pretty little head of yours, I'd suggest you do as I say." "Starving. I've been starving for so long that I don't even care how I get it. I just want it, I need to know someone needs me." // Young Acacia finds herself kidnapped by the murderous son of a famous sociopath. How will she manage to survive the violent outbursts and mental torture?