It happened…
At age 2, it is my first memory. We were at my grandpa’s house & he was a family friend. All I remember is him picking me up and putting me on the sink then sliding my diaper to the side so he could molest me. They called him “Boo” and I wasn’t able to speak very well yet so they thought I said Bill who is my uncle William-he was falsely arrested but let go some time later. After the investigators questioned me more I mentioned my Grandpa (referring to the location where it happened at) he was also detained but never charged. “Boo” wasn’t ever caught.
My mom re-married when I was 3 and her husband adopted me. He was a good dad, much older than her yet still loving & caring. She got pregnant with my twin brothers when I was 6 and we lived in Africa for 5 years for his job at Goodyear Tire. I was 11 and mom was at a conference out of town. It was very stormy that night-hard rain, thunder and lightening. I crawled into bed with him to feel safe but after I feel asleep he put his finger inside of me then tasting it afterward. I didn’t move a muscle and never said a word. He went on the next day like nothing had happened. At one point I thought my mom had put him up to it to see if I would tell which would mean I was more trust worthy than originally thought. I was in 5th grade & mentioned something to my grade school friend about the incident. The next day CPS was at our house. The social worker got me to tell her the truth and my dad was arrested. When she took me to my mom at her work to explain the first words out of my mom’s mouth was “What did you do to coerce him?” I still resent her for that comment implying I seduced him. He served his time and we did family counseling. He died 3 years later of pancreatic cancer.
At 12, in youth group, the boy I had a crush on happened to be the pastor’s son. He took and put my hand down his pants. We were at a movie theater for the opening of Titanic so I was stiff, almost paralyzed. The next day at church all the girls whispered among themselves, snickering & pointing. All the boys high-fived him and patted his back like a star athlete.
After my mom divorced my adoptive father (right after his sentencing) she introduced me to my biological father whom I’d never met. I was almost 13. I thought he was so cool! He let me smoke cigarettes, drive cars, stay up late and do things my mom said were dangerous. One of the first times he picked me up we went to where he parked him semi. It was a Wendy’s parking lot. I remember it being dark & the big truck hid us well. He asked me to do to him what my adoptive father did to me. I groped him like he told me to to which he praised me telling me what a good girl I was and that even women older than me didn’t know how to touch men that well. I wasn’t sure what to say and next thing I knew he was taking off my pants & putting himself inside me. I laid there still, in shock by what was going on. This was my DAD, my actual father not some step-male mother married. He told me I was the “woman” he dreamed about in prison. After ejaculating on my stomach he made me wipe it off. I went over every other weekend knowing what would take place. He called it “fun time.” Basically he would put me in the shower, rinse me off and use a high powered stream of water on me. After that he would put me in bed and use his fingers, tongue, and various toys on me. That was the first time I experienced an orgasm. He bribed me with money, clothes, and my boyfriend. I wasn’t allowed to see my boyfriend because my mom said he was a bad influence, but my dad wanted him to come over so he could watch us have sex and masturbate under the bed all while simultaneously taking video of it like a producer in a dirty movie. This went on for 4 years. As a truck driver he would make me go with him during the summer months. Every night he would force me to talk dirty to other drivers on the CB then vaginally & anally rape me in the back of his rig. Still to this day I never told the authorities about the years of abuse. After stopping all communication and visits he came and threatened me at school saying he was going to kidnap and impregnate me. From then on I always looked over my shoulder fearful he would make good on that promise. I hid it deep inside me until a friend at church convinced me to tell before the statute of limitations was up. Once I finally got the courage I reached out to the authorities only to find out he had died. Part of me was happy knowing he is in hell, the other half of me wishes I would have told sooner because I know for a fact I wasn’t the only one he hurt.
The fifth man my mom married didn’t touch me sexually but was extremely verbally and emotionally abusive to all of us, my mother included. She divorced him seven years later but they remarried again right after she “forgave him.”
It made me feel …
dirty, like a slut or whore. I felt like who I am as a person was based only on what my body could do for men’s pleasure.
I survived…
I got into drinking and drugs, thankfully nothing heavy. I went to counseling and had my faith in God. I was diagnosed with depression at age 15 and PTSD as an adult. I take medications daily to help. I’m a very strong willed person and that’s all I can attribute to my survival. I had a son in 2010 who was born at 25 weeks; he only lived for ten days. That really set me back on my recovery. I was mad at God, after all I’d been through – how could he let yet ANOTHER tragedy happen to me. Eventually I got married, to a woman. She treats me like a queen, not a piece of meat. She respects sex and would never put me in a place to question that. She knows all my deepest, darkest secrets and still thinks of me as “The Perfect Wife.” We’re beginning our journey into parenthood. When I have children, I would NEVER let anyone hurt them like they hurt me.
I dream…
of a school system and church where children aren’t afraid to speak out and tell an adult. I feel that a secret code or specific word might help kids come forth. Also, I feel like children should be reminded that not only are parents the only one to touch us in our bathing suit area but that parents CAN be predators too. I think that’s why it was hard for me to comprehend. These were the men in my life who supposedly loved me and cared for my well being; how could what they were doing be wrong?
I want…
others to know that not everything is as it seems to be. No one knows what happens behind closed doors. It is SAFE TO TELL. DON’T BE AFRAID OR FEEL GUILTY. What happened is NOT your fault whether you knew better or not. You were taken advantage of no matter your age. My best friend in high school was being molested by her father. I knew the warning signs, because it was happening to me too, but I didn’t know if she would be mad at me for asking so I didn’t. A few years into adulthood she admitted his abuse and I felt horrible for not trusting my gut. Thankfully she wasn’t mad at me.
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“How could what they were doing be wrong?”. Exactly how I felt. I stand with you, your strength is amazing.