My story is one of sexual abuse like many otherson this sight. I am the youngest of eight children in an otherwise, close-knit family. My mother was married twice and conceived four children from each marriage. So, therefore, my four eldest siblings were much older than me.
Although I do not remember when the sexual abuse started, I can remember it happening as early as four years of age. My older sister had gotten married shortly after high school and she and her children lived in the house with us because her husband had joined the Navy. Her husband was very close to our family and no one would have ever suspected that he would harm any one in our family, let-alone a child. He was home for a couple of months after they had gotten married and was often left to babysit me-4 yrs old, my niece-7 yrs old (not his daughter), My two sisters- 8 & 10 yrs old, and my brother-9 yrs old.
He would call me down stairs and say that I was too little to play with the bigger kids. He then would show me adult magazines and ask me if I wanted to play pretend with him and do the the things that the people were doing in the book.
At first, he just fondled my genitals and he would tell me to hold his penis with both hands like I was holding a cup and rub up and down. I would get upset and cry because I thought he was "peeing" on my hands. But he would hug me and say that I made him feel good and I did a ggod job. He said not to tell anyone about our make believe game because I would get a spanking for not playing with the other kids.
The fondling progressed to oral sex. He would reward me with candy if I could "do it" for a long time. That progressed taking off my pants and panties and straddling his penis while moved me back and forward. This behavior would go on every time he came home off of the ship, over the course of about five years.
When I was nine years old, we moved and I transferred schools. The school I was attending showed us a film on sexual abuse and molestation. That's when I realized that what was going on with me was very wrong. The next time he came home I was afraid to be alone with him. At this time in age, everyone else was a teenager and had other things to do, so I was left alone with him again. This time I told him that I knew it was wrong. He started trying to convince me that the teachers were wrong and that I was special to him. This is when he actually had intercourse with me. I was histerical. My older sister, who was 13 yrs old at the time, was the first person I told. She took me to my mother and made me tell her. At that time, I found out that the same thing had happened to her, but no one listened when she told them. They took me to the doctor, the police station, and to his commanding officer. The only thing that they did to him was made him go to counselling for 18 months, because he was a "good soldier", and my mother made him move out of our house.
Little did I know, this would come back to haunt me later on in life. At 17 and 1/2 yrs of age, the guy that I had been dating for nearly 3 years, started talking about us having sex. After weeks and weeks of talking, I decided to try it. At first, the foreplay was fine, but as it got more intense, I started having flash backs. I went berzerk and started crying and fighting him. He dod not know what was going on. I ended up having to tell him what had happened to me. Luckily he was completely understanding. Another lasting scar is that have not and will not date or associate myself with men in the Navy. I can meet a man and have good conversation with him, maybe eve go out. But as soon as he says he is or was formally in the Navy, my whole view of him changes and I will not see him again.
Now, at 31 yrs of age, I am divorced and have 2 sons, 13 & 8 yrs old, and a daughter 10 yrs old. I am very careful about who is around my daughter. I talk to my children about sexual abuse, and most importantly I listened to everything they have to say and answer all questions.
Yolanda Yvette McCoyie
I hate using the word "rape"--it always seemed like such a strong word. But I guess there really is no other way to describe it. I have battled with these thoughts now for 7 years and I feel some kind of relief in finally putting those thoughts to words in an anonymous way.
I was 17 and thought I was invincible. My parents were pretty strict and I had alot of responsiblity at home since both my parents worked and I had two younger brothers, one of which has special needs. So I always had to lie to them to be able to go anywhere with my friends. mostly I would say I was spending the night at one of their houses so we could do whatever we wanted. We were 17 and hanging out with college guys and their friends, some of which were in their 30's. It felt so good to be a part of an "older crowd" although looking back we were just plain stupid. One night my "friends" and I were hanging out with this guy Mike at his house. He was easily in his late twenties or early thirties. We were all drinking and so we had planned to just stay at his house. I had been dating one of his friends and it wasn't going to well so Mike and I ended up talking about it in his room(I was going to sleep there and he was going to sleep on the couch.) One thing led to ! another and he kissed me. I tryed to gently tell him I cared for his friend in hopes he would back off without a confrontation. You see we had all heard stories about Mike and women. He was an ex-marine and had threatended to kill his ex girlfriend and even kept her hostage before. This is why I say we were stupid. I was afraid of him without even having to see it first hand. He was seriously psychotic and later found out that the guys we were all friends with didnt even like him but didnt want to get on his bad side. Anyway I just remember saying no several times and finally just giving in to freight and letting him have his way. I can still remember just laying there completely numb and thinking "it will all be over soon."
The next morning I woke up as soon as the sun came up and woke up my friends. I told them nothing. I was afraid they wouldnt believe me and would just think I was a slut. I later realized these girls werent really my friends.
I told one person that i trusted who was someone i had grown up with. I am so glad I did. She was so understanding. I dont think she doubted anything i said. It felt good to talk to someone about it.
A few weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I was really sick and people at school started to suspect. I did tell the school nurse because I couldnt even sit in class and I was in her office so much. My mom had to pick me up from school one day. I blatantly lied to my mother about it when I so badly wanted to tell her the whole story and just have her comfort me. But I didnt. I wanted to forget the whole thing. I knew my parents would be there for me but I just wanted to pretend it never happened.
I had an abortion. I cant say that I regret the decision considering the circumstance. I was brought up Catholic and always dreampt of having kids. I remember crying during the procedure and feeling like I could throw up because of what I was doing. My childhood friend and I cut school to make the trip out of state because the state I lived in would have required my parents signature because I was under 18. We had to sit there all day, watching people come in and out.
Eventually rumors started flying about me being pregnant and having an abortion. I denied everything. Years later I confronted My "friends" who had all stabbed me in the back about the situation. They thought I had just gotten pregnant by some guy and therefore thought I was a slut they could bad mouth and start rumors about.
The reason this is all coming out now is because I am now 24 years old, engaged to a great guy and pregnant. As I said before I dont regret my decision to have the abortion in my situation. I did tell my fiancee about the rape and abortion very early on in our relationship. He has mentioned that he is worried about my past affecting this pregnancy. That really hurts. My doctors know about the abortion and tell me it has no affect on my current pregnancy. I feel very guilty that my previous abortion has been weighing on his mind for the last 15 months (it took us 10 months to get pregnant and I am now 5 months along.)
I used to say I would tell my parents about my past whenever I got pregnant again but I guess I am still trying to pretend it didnt happen. But it did. I keep in touch with one of the guys Mike used to hang around with. I never told him about the rape but he knows I dislike Mike. I have since heard stories about Mike forcing other girls too and feel more guilt that I never did anything about it. I just wanted to pretend it didnt happen.
I am very happy with my life now but have come to the realization that I cant erase what happened no matter how hard I try. The pain, disgust and guilt will always be there. Always.
I've had enough of the shadows. I was three years old when I was raped by my own father, who denied me ever since. My mother knew because she ignored me no matter what problems I had. The problems I had, I believe, were my attempts to bring out that truth. This betrayal has affected every part of my life--relationships with other people, men, my jobs, and God.
I was diagnosed with childhood schizophrenia when I was eight years old because I was so seriously withdrawn. My parents were told I would never graduate from high school, hold a job, or marry. But I graduated in June, 1964, and I recently celebrated my twenty-first anniversary this past December 13, to a man who loves and accepts me as I love and accept him. But even though we're close, I still feel alone. But now I know I am not alone, because I have found many other women who have undergone the same hell. But no matter what I do or accomplish, my father doesn't acknowledge me, but now I understand why. I offered him the opportunity to sit down with me and talk with me and he prefers denial. Okay. I have asked God to allow me to listen when He asks him, What have you done? He'll roast in hell for eternity, but I've done what I can. I'm detaching.
Emma, I disagree, you are a survivor. You have enough courage to share your hell and read about ours. I found my truth because I decided many years ago that I wanted to understand myself and God has been answering my questions. But I still feel so angry with Him for "Honor thy father. . .' when my father betrayed my innocence and trust and denied it for fifty years, and my mother who knew but decided to ignore me rather than take my side. I would like to say this to Name Withheld: Any man who acts like that has indeed been punished, and now he must answer for two crimes: what he did to you and what he did to himself.
I am so glad I found Escaping Hades, for this is where I belong.