**MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME** CONTAINS SOME OF MY EXPERIENCES WITH BEING MOLESTED AS A CHILD
For years and years I have struggled. I am 30 now and the reality is just now settling in. I see things in a new light. Not the most positive light, but I am hoping that one day I will be able to see the positive.
People say the things that happen to you happen for a reason. I don't think that there was a reason for what happened to me though. How can there be a reason for a little girl to be touched in ways that a consenting woman can be touched? I was 5 when he first made his mark. What reason can be behind that? From that moment on my innocence got stripped from me. I still didn't know what sex was but I knew what he was doing felt, dare I say, good? It's disgusting. I knew it was wrong, but he kept reassuring me it wasn't. He would whisper that in my ear constantly. "You like that?" he would ask. It kind of tickled so I guess I did. I trusted him.
As I got older I tried to tell my older cousin what was happening but she said it was ok. I trusted her too.
Eventually my catholic school taught us about sex and how if someone touches you a certain way it's wrong, I think I was about 7 at that point, so when he would beckon me over when he was sure his wife was going to be in the kitchen for a while I started to say no. The first time I said no he was actually shocked. He came over sat me on his lap and put his hand down my pants anyway. I froze. I let him do it. I was ashamed.
I don't know when or how it stopped but it eventually did. The damage was already done though. I knew what he was doing to me was a form of sex. As I said, I went to catholic school. They teach purity is good, sex is dirty. I was a already dirty. I felt dirty, but what was done was done. I found my sexuality very early (obviously) I was kissing boys, giving hand jobs and blowjobs left and right. I was about 12. My parents were completely blind to my behavior, that or they were in denial. There precious daughter could do no wrong. I remember my mom once caught me rubbing myself in my room and instead of talking to me like a real person she asked if I was itchy "down there" (that area was never talked about) Embarrassed, I said yes because I knew she could handle that emotionally. I think if I would have said "no, I just like how that feels" she wouldn't have known what to do. All she said was "stop scratching" and walked away. Yeah, thanks mom.
I could go on about my story for a while but I won't. Right now I have to deal with the feelings that I have about my first daughter that I am currently carrying in my womb. She has about 10 more weeks left in there. I am petrified for her. I know that's just me projecting my life onto her but I can't help to feel scared. That man that did those things to me is still in my life. Not on a daily basis, not even on a monthly basis but he's around. I may even see him today. I hate him, but after all these years I can't say anything. My silence is forever and it's distressing. He's a grandfather now. To a boy and a little girl. That is also severely tormenting for me. That little girl is only 2. Would he do that to her? Has he done that to his daughters? Was it just me? Why was is me? My head is spinning. I need a reason to all of this.
This is my reality....