*I know this is very long, so if you read through all this, you are an awesome person*
When I was 15, that idea seemed impossible. Same when I was 16, 17, 18, 19.…
I wanted to share my story. I hardly ever talk about this, anymore, because it’s just not the central focus of my life anymore. I don’t even think about it, much. I have so many better things going on in my life to focus on, now.. It’s like I’ve gotten that power back, that I lost, and that’s a good feeling, let me tell you. So, I hope that, maybe, sharing this will help someone struggling or just be encouraging. I’ll be open and be raw.
The abuse started when I was, I think, 8. Could have been sooner. Lasted till I was 12, though the worst of it was when I was 9. That was the year I started to put on weight and just wasn’t happy, because it was happening so frequently. Things were very confusing. Anyway, I say it could have been happening sooner, because, when my sister was 4, she made a comment about a baby boy who was having his diaper changed (along the lines of, “oh, he has one of those, too?”). My mom then got the pastor of her church involved, they talked to my dad who denied anything and, since there was no proof, nothing was done. I’m okay with this. I really am. If he was messing with her at age 4, though, who knows when it began. And, honestly, I find that so repulsive, but anyway… (I'd like to note that my mom did the best she could. My dad eventually threatened all of our lives. He said he would kill us all, if she left. She was afraid. I don't blame her)
It all basically started with me just spending time with him. Simple as that. A little girl who wanted daddy’s attention. We would “nap” together. It consisted of me pretending to sleep, while he would…. I knew something wasn’t right, but he said that’s what daddy’s did with their daughters and that, if we told, my mom wouldn’t believe us and we’d be in trouble. It really creeped me out, but it also felt good. He started to get more bold, knowing I wasn’t sleeping. I actually hated being forced to touch him and then just hated the male anatomy there, for a while. Finding It gross. That just led to confusing thoughts about, well, did I really want it? Was I somehow responsible? Even if I was only 9. He would then follow me around the house, when I was a little older, whispering things he wanted to do to me. To this day, whispering kinda drives me crazy, cause that’s the first thought that pops into my head. Something as simple as a whisper. It’s not that big of a deal for me, now, though. When I was 12, he started helping me do something on the computer, started touching me and I had had enough. For the life of me, I don’t know how I got away from him, since I felt really cornered. I managed too, though. I guess I felt like, that could have gone much farther, much faster and I had to get away from him. I then hid in my room, listening to him make nasty noises, saying what he wanted me to do, what he wanted to do to me.
Anyway, eventually, around age 13, it wasn’t so bad anymore. He didn’t try anything. I started to really worry about him. He would drink, yell, throw things, it was awful. I wanted him off of drugs, drinking, smoking and I really cared about him. I really wanted to help him. Then I caught him looking at kiddie porn. Yeah. I was so angry and just couldn’t believe it.
I had a friend from school who had gone through something similar and she had shared with me her story. I guess that’s what really prompted me to do something. I then told another friend and she came with me to tell my youth pastor. I’ll never forget his reaction. He was standing, at first, and then kind of slid down into a chair. I never knew that that would be the moment everything would change. I then spent time talking to his wife and feeling very scared, like what on earth did I just do…
Sure enough, a few days later, I was told by the pastors wife that police would have to get involved. I was literally petrified. I went back to class shaking and crying and I was allowed to go to the bathroom and a friend to go with me, a friend who really didn’t want to know anything I was going through. It hurt her too much.
Next thing I know, my mom comes in crying, telling me nothing was my fault. There was a lot of crying. A lot. My sister cried, because she felt she was to blame. Once I knew he was messing with my friend, during the times I was going to the bathroom, I felt guilty for leaving him alone with her, even if it was just a few freaking minutes. It was a crazy time, full of guilt and feeling responsible.
I then spent the night over at my gramma’s, while my pastor, youth pastor and mom all went to talk to my dad, convincing him to just turn himself in. which he did. He turned himself in. I’ll never forget the last time my dad and I were together. He was sitting on the computer, and I was staring at him, thinking about how I just told on him and had no idea what was going to happen. I felt like running away. Other than seeing him in court, that was the last time I saw my dad. (Yes, you might think that police should have gotten involved immediately, but the pastor had some more important business to attend to, so it waited over a weekend. There’s been some, uh, not so good reaction to that. Dur)
You think it’s bad enough, you know, being molested and all, try having to TELL a police officer EVERYTHING, and then write it all down, too. I’m just glad she was female. There was a male cop, but he didn’t talk to me, thank God. Then I was just super scared over the court process. I was going to have to testify, at 14 years old, in an OPEN courtroom, having to say where he touched me, where I touched him, where things were inserted and etc. NOT FUN. We found out 15 minutes or so before that he had waived his right to a trial. He pleaded no contest. It’s different than guilty, but at least we didn’t have to testify in an open court room! BIG BLESSING there that I definitely have NEVER taken for granted.
It was just after my 15th birthday that he was sentenced to a, minimum, of 10 years in prison. Yeah, you can rape three children and get 10 years, folks. (Actually, when you do the math, I‘m 25, he‘s been out for 2 years. Okay, so 8-9. Who are we kidding)
The next couple years was me trying to focus on school. At the time, we had a pretty big church family, I was still going to the christian school and it was discussed that we let everyone know what was happening, as to stop any rumors. Yeah, that was hard. Having EVERYONE know something so… personal. However, having it so public makes it easier to talk about. It’s not a secret. I can share and that’s a GOOD thing. And during that time is when my history teacher got a little too… close to me. I turned to him, because I think I was looking for a father figure, some male that I could trust, He hugged me, it made me feel good. Then one day he said, “we can’t write notes, I can’t hug you, because you’re a girl and I’m a guy.” Then I was just devastated. It just felt like blow after blow and I couldn’t handle it.
I started to really struggle with school. I missed a lot of days, was depressed, was on anti-depressants and went through I don’t know how many counselors. Getting Bible verses just didn’t help. This is where I started struggling with my faith. I eventually left the church. I couldn’t stand that people thought I should just “be over it by now”.
I then graduated high school, early, because I ended up dropping out of the christian school and home schooling myself. I then purchased a book on healing from sexual abuse. It had been years of shoving everything under a rug.
Well, that went over well. I spent the next couple months as an emotional mess. Everything hurt, I was considering suicide, I couldn’t stop crying, I wanted someone so badly to be there for me and felt so alone, which led to me making some… bad decisions. Which I’ll get to in a minute.
I then mentioned to my doctor about being depressed and suicidal, so she stuck me in a psych ward. I was so scared there. I’m not used to being alone and there I was alone. Everyone was strangers and I felt like a crazy person. However, I met some nice people in there, including my first ever boyfriend (the bad decision). Not a stellar place to meet a boyfriend, but… I ended up dating him, after we were both out, and… this is going to sound bad, but I’ll be honest.
Having been molested confused me about virginity/sex and made me very emotional about it. So, I decided to just “give it up” so I could know for sure it was gone. I know, sounds kinda nuts and it was. He came to my house, we did the deed and… I cried. Thankfully, he immediately stopped. We then continued our relationship, where sex was about him slapping me, calling me a bitch and other names… well, that’s as far as I’ll go. In other words, sex was not really all that enjoyable. I let him treat me like crap. I just felt like a piece of meat, My dad took me, he took me, well whatever. That’s all I felt good for, anymore. I made a lot of risky decisions that, honestly, I’m just glad didn’t turn out even more terribly wrong. I made a lot of dumb choices that year. And I don’t talk about this lightly. No one really knows this. I had such shame over it, because I was raised that pre-marital sex was wrong, so then I felt like an even bigger fool for giving into it.
But from that experience, I grew.
After I got married, was when my life turned around. Living in a new place, being in a relationship where I, I felt special and could get to a place where sex wasn’t just… sex, it was love and that meant a lot to me. He pretty much refused to be all rough and stuff. He refused to treat me bad. It was when I really allowed myself to NOT be treated like that and it was okay. Because I had a real problem with how I let people treat me. After I got married, my panic attacks started to subside and I stopped “cutting”. I couldn’t be happier about that.
I had new experiences under my belt, I became a mother, had my mind on other things and I just felt.. Happier.
I know that my book said there were different stages in the healing process. I believe that I’ve worked into the Resolution Phase which is this:
“Eventually, the sexual assault becomes integrated into the survivor's life, without remaining the central focus. Survivors regain interest in other areas of their lives when they are ready, contextualizing it as an important part of their past. The emotional and psychological pain often lessens over time, as the individual works through the devastation of the assault.”. It took a lot to get there, but I’m so happy I’m there!
I actually have to say that the true healing seems to be a more recent thing. When my father was realeased on parole two years ago, I simply wanted to ignore it, not talk about it. Now, I’m okay with talking about it even though some things I just typed out made me want to cry. The thing is, I’m so beyond it all.
He took the power from me and he held onto it for a long time, because I let him. He doesn’t have that power over me anymore. I’m happy. Truly happy. Some things in life aren’t great, yeah, but they aren’t a direct result of this. I’m happy. I took back the power. It took time, it took patience, it took tears and hard work. It took looking directly at what happened and be open about it. It took raw emotions. It took a lot of me. But I did it. I overcame it. The best thing I did was DEALING with it, not just shoving it under the rug. Dealing with the emotions, the hurt, everything. It was WORTH THE PAIN OF IT ALL.
Now, I’m also aware that you can “regress”, I think. I’m aware that this is something I will deal with for the rest of my life. What happened to me was bad, horrible, shouldn’t have happened, but it certainly doesn’t define me. I decided that it wasn’t going to beat me. I was going to conquer it.
It’s given me a compassion, and understanding for others who have gone through this. And I love that, actually. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t want this, but I got it and I think I know why I went through it, now. And I can actually thank God for allowing it, as horrible as it is. Other girls and boys out there who have been through this, you are not alone, it was NOT your fault and you CAN get through it. You can get past the tears, the heartbreak, the utter horror you’ve just been through and you can be happy, complete and content. It’s possible! I’m so proud of myself. I’m glad that I don’t count myself out, anymore. I’m glad I didn’t decide to just become a prostitute, thinking that that’s all I was good for (I did think that, for a while. Seriously). I picked myself up and made it through the mess. And it makes me feel really proud and strong. Taking back the power means everything. Everything.
As far as the sexual abuse goes, I’m okay. I’m happy to have taken back the power. However, there was also verbal abuse (And thank God he was never physically abusive). He called me every name in the book, told me I was stupid, he was just really mean to me. That part, I still deal with. I used to just be okay with people being mean to me, I mean, I was okay with my ex bf calling me a bitch (and other things). I didn’t really allow myself to be treated better. I used to be super emotional over words and name calling. I think even that more recently has gotten better. Again, I’ve gotten that power back, even though I still deal with the insecurities. Sometimes I’m afraid to speak up, afraid people will think I’m stupid. I’ll probably deal with that for a while, but I know that working through that and dealing with it will be WORTH IT. I’ll get there. I don’t just let people treat me like crap anymore. I also took back that power. J
I can’t even really begin to explain what a breath of fresh air my life has been in the last couple years! J
He brought me too it, and He brought me through it and I couldn’t feel more blessed. I learned a ton through these experiences and I only hope my story can somehow be encouraging to someone else. The word that comes to mind is FREE. I truly feel FREE.
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I really appreciate anyone who took the time to read through this all. You’re awesome. This took a lot of my time and I really hope that it maybe can encourage someone out there. So, if you gave it the time of day and read the whole thing, I really, really, appreciate it.
. But, what the heck*
Yep. Busy years, lol.
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