I'm not sure what to say. I don't want my presence on this site to offend anyone. I'm not sure if most people would consider what happened to me to be serious, to warrent me being called a victim or me seeking help, all I know is how it ended up affecting me and how it continues to do so. So I guess here it goes.
My parents seperated when I was very young and my dad moved to Georgia. Even though I was able to see him one month out of the year, there was a void. I looked to the other males in my life to fill that "father void" and there was one man in particular that I looked to. He was my best friends father and i used to go over and hang with her and spend the night almost all the time.
I was 10 or 11 and we had just got back from swimming at a hotel pool. My friend went in and he stopped me to ask if he could talk to me later that night and that he would give me $5 to just talk. At that age you think that to get paid just to listen to an adult talk is pretty cool, and I didn't think anything about it. He woke me up at 1:15 a.m. He was doing laundry. At first he sat on th other couch that was across from the one I was laying on. The only light on was the one in the bathroom. I remember he rambled. I don't remember the whole conversation, only bits and pieces, but I remember him talking about the contraversy surrounding the catholic church about the priests molesting little boys.
Something that you need to understand is up until this point I had never been scared of anything. I was a very tough and strong willed little girl and I had believed that nothing bad could happen to me because of how strong I was. That belief was almost a mantra for me. As I sat on the couch listening to him ramble on, I was terrified. He moved and sat by my feet and continued to talk. The gist of his ramblings was that he wanted to give me money in return for me allowing him to touch me. He left me alone to think about it while he switched the laundry and got the $5 he promised me. The voices in my head were talking all at once.
To clearify this so you don't think I'm completely crazy, ever since I was very young whenever I would get in trouble I would tell my mom that the monkeys in my head made me do it. This sounds silly and childish, but it is true. They were my way of dealing with things when I was younger and up until that night I hadn't needed them, but as the reality of what he was wanting sank in they came to my aid in full force. They helped me to be strong when he came back in for my answer.
When I told him no he seemed fine with my answer. He asked me if I wanted something to drink and I said yes. As I waited I thought that I would never be able to get back to sleep, but surprisingly I did after he brought me a glass of water. As far as I can remember that is all that happened, but there is a part of me that questions if it was. I told very few people about what happened and I made them swear not to tell anyone because of two things: 1) I didn't want my best friends life ruined and 2) I didn't want people thinking I was weak.
Two years passed before what had happened came to light. Another girl who I thought was my friend, and who was one of the people I had told, said that the same thing happened to her, except he offered to pay her more and gave her more money to talk. Other than that every detail was almost exactly the same. I had to talk to the police and a notice from DHS was sent to my parents. The letter wasn't very specific so when my mom and step-dad read it they thought that charges had been filed against them. I was bawling when I told my mom the truth because I thought she was going to be mad at me. During the trial and even afterwards, my mom kept asking me if I wanted to see a professional. I wish now that I had.
I started dressing and acting like a boy, wearing dark and baggy clothes, started playing male dominated sports (wrestling mainly), and eventually started cutting myself. I never cut deep enough to bleed real bad, just enough to break the skin, but it was enough to scar it over. If you were to run your hands over my forearms you would be able to tell the difference. I didn't think anything was wrong with me. I acted like the comments about me being a lesbian and the mean jokes didn't bother me. At home I started hiding anything that could be used as a weapon in my room, convinced my parents to buy me pocket knives and stuff, and would dissappear for hours at a time.
At the time I hadn't realised that I had become paranoid, among other things. It is embarassing to say, but I started looking at everything in a sexual manner. I started having the thought process that every man I came across wanted to have sex with me or rape me. Even now those thoughts pop into my mind. I find it strange because as far as I know, no contact was ever made.
I am getting better though. My fiance and I have been together almost 4 years now and we have two beautiful boys. I've stopped trying to hide my figure, and have even started wearing make-up (although I'm not very good at it). I am still paranoid, I carry multiple knives in my bag and on my person and have gotten my permit to carry, but I'm working on it. I am in college now and I am taking criminal justice classes, the most recent one is a juvenile delinquency class which I am doing a report in on the psycological effects of sex related crimes on adolescent and pre-adolescents and how it has affected them into adulthood. I chose this topic because of my personal experience with it.
I want to know if there are people out there that have had similar reactions to their victimization as what I have. I have become more open about what happened to me in the sense that I am able to talk more openly about it with those who are close to me. This is the first time that I have come out to complete strangers about it. This is my first step into true healing and to be honest it scares me.