**Caution: Trigger Warning, Explicit Content
Written by an adult survivor. Shared with permission for the purpose of educating and exposing violations of sexual abuse by adults and the tragedy of losing your voice as a child whose caregivers were unable to protect them. All names are redacted to protect the identity of the survivor.
"Finding My Voice"
I have started to write this blog a million times since I was asked to but was so lost on what to write. I think I have finally found my voice.
I was 5 the first time my body was violated by a teenage boy. My mom had left us with a babysitter when she went out that night. The babysitter had put me in a bath and like any five year old girl I refused to get out when told. The neighbor's 16 year old son had come over to “see me”. He came into the bathroom and told me if I got out of the bathtub we could play a game. Little did I know the game he wanted to play wasn't for a child. I agreed and he took me to the bedroom to get me dressed. He touched me in ways that confused me and the more I said no the more he touched. The babysitter caught him but not before he violated my body, mind, and trust. I was put into protective custody once everything was investigated.
Most people wouldn't understand the pain and suffering you go through when you are a child and violated by someone you trust. Not two weeks into protective custody my mother got mad at the lunch lady that worked at the facility and took me and my brothers and left. She took us to “her friends” home. She said I'd be safe but it was just another lie. “Her friend” became her boyfriend and my so-called step-dad. She got a job and left him to take care of me and my brothers. After we moved in he would find excuses to be alone with me. He would ask me to “scratch his legs or back and have me sit on his bed while he watched dirty movies not meant for children's eyes. This went on for a little while then he started asking me to do other things to him and he would touch me.
He would tell me “it's ok” “don't tell no one though” “it's our little secret”. I was afraid because he told me if I told anyone he would “hurt me”. Apparently what he was doing wasn't pain enough. Then one day he decided that it was time to try new things. My mom had just left for work and my brothers were with grandma so it was just me and him. He had me go to his bedroom to watch a movie. I was scared because I knew he was going to make me touch him in his private areas like he always did. I didn't like touching him and I didnt like him touching me. That was the day he raped me for the first time. He held me on the bed and told me that I would like it if I just tried it. I told him no and that I didn't want to but he told me I had no choice “that's what the bible said. Daddys were supposed to do these things with their daughters until they were old enough to get married.” He made me believe it was what God wanted. I was only 5. How was I supposed to know any different? We went to church every Sunday and I believed in God. I believed that I had to do what he wanted if I wanted to go to heaven. This went on from the age of 5 to the age of 17 almost 18. At the age of 9 I tried telling my grandma and I got my butt whipped with a flip flop and told that if I ever lie again I would get much worse. I did get much worse after she told the person that was hurting me in the first place. Then I tried to tell my mom when I was 13 which was a joke because she told the school counselor and cps that I was hallucinating and just putting who I wanted in my stories. After that I just quit telling people. I figured if saying no didn't work and telling someone to get help didn't work then there was no point in trying.
It took me 15 years and my children being abused by the exact same person to
speak up again. I know those of you reading this probably think Im stupid for letting my children around them but there's a story behind that as well and maybe one day ill continue this story so those of you wondering will know.
To be continued.