Jump to content


New Member
  • Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Profile Information

  • Gender

Previous Fields

  • MembershipType

Recent Profile Visitors

862 profile views
  1. yanna

    finally telling

    When I was 6 years old my older sister started to molest me, she use to call it "the game", it lasted for about another year or two, at least until she got a new boyfriend, then she no longer "needed me". By the time I was 7, my older cousin who was a female as well also started to molest me, saying everything we did was for fun and that everyone did it. Around that same time, my god sister who was around my age decided she wanted to play the game as well, she had learned it from our uncle. I didn't understand what was going on or that it was wrong. Through out the years, I had other encounters with different cousins, this time males. They would make me kiss them on the lips when I needed help with my homework, or teach me the game "booty tag" and just randomly grab my ass when no one was looking. It never felt right, but I never said anything because they all made it seem like it was nothing, not big deal. When I was 8 and my older sister ended up getting pregnant, and her boyfriend started to touch me, try to get me to touch him. Then one day my sister who was a year younger, told my parents that my sisters boyfriend kept trying to touch us. She hadn't grown up playing "the game" with our family so she knew this wasn’t normal or right. My parents told him that if he ever touched us again they would report him the police. And so he never did, at least for a few years. When I turned 12 he started again, but by then I was already so emotionally damaged I actually believed him when he told me that it was my fault and that everyone would be mad at me not him. So I kept quiet. But over the months it got worse, I had to go with him to pick the kids up from daycare, and he would keep trying to feel me up or would grab my arm and try to force me to grab him. I would always move away from him, even sitting in the backseat he would try to grab me. Most of the time I would end up in the trunk until the kids were in the car. He would bring his phone out and try to show me videos, clips of porn he downloaded. I would close my eyes and hope they would be gone by the time I opened them, but they never would be. I would open my eyes and he would still be holding his phone right up to my face. There were many times where i just pictured myself jumping out the car to get away form him, but I never could. All I could think about was my family. One day I got into an argument with my older sister, and I told her everything he had done since I was eight. She was really hurt because he had known everything my uncle had done to her, so she kicked him out. By the time my mom found out she took me to the station in order to file a report. But at the end nothing was ever done. My sister moved out of the house and into an apartment with him, and my mom never pressed charges. Everyone still talks to him as if nothing ever happened. My parents don’t know about everything my family did to me, only what he did, and the fact that they chose to nothing when it came to an almost stranger, I didn’t even want to imagine what they would say if I ever told them about my sister and cousins. They would probably act like I was crazy, like no one would actually ever do that in our family. Today I still think about it when I look at any of them, I see and talk to them almost on a weekly basis, and we always act like nothing ever happened. As if it were a part of my imagination. Sometimes I wonder if I did make this all up, if I'm crazy. Most day I wish I was, that this was all a figment of my imagination.
  2. yanna

    home visit

    I went home this weekend. I got there Thursday morning and planned to stay as long as I could; lasted until Saturday afternoon. I hate going home, the first thing I'm asked is why I don't come home as often anymore. What do I even tell them?, "I can't stand being apart of this family" "I leave even more emotionally damaged than when I arrive", I usually just make up excuses of having too many exams to study for, or not being able to get off work. But no matter what i say to them I'm always the bad person who doesn't care about their family. It wasn't even my idea, I was okay going to a school in my area, but my mom decided she wanted to be able to brag about being able to visit her daughter in another state. It hurts that everything always end up being about her at the end, never about us. She claims everything she does is for us but thats always a lie. It's just whatever makes her look like a better person, what people think about her. Always about appearances.
  3. yanna


    Sometimes I can go months doing well or at least being able to fake it. But then it randomly gets harder. I feel like i can't breath, I'm suffocating and I don't know what to do. People notice I act differently but no one ever asks. They see the scars but more their eyes past them quickly, pretending as if they never saw. Some of my friends know, but we also don't talk about it, they know why I act the way I do sometimes, but sometimes they forget and don't understand why my mood changes or why I don't like being touched. I'm going home this weekend, no one understands why I never look forward to it, why I can't stand being there for more than a day. Sometimes I just want to forget about everything and leave. Get in my car and drive far away. To not tell anyone and leave everything behind. But I know I never can, I could never leave my family that way. As much as I despise being there, I can never leave. That's why I always go back.
  • Create New...