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Survivor Stories

My father molested and raped me until I was 11. I don't know when it started. I used to think it had only happened those last two summers.

Let me back up and explain something. I was born in Arizona but my parents got divorced when I was three and we moved to South Carolina (my mother's hometown). The custody agreement in the divorce was that my father would come see me 3 times a year, summer, Christmas, and Easter, until I was seven (old enough to travel in care of the flight attendants). On the summer visits, we usually stayed in Charleston but on the holidays we'd go to Florida (where my older brothers lived-his sons from a prior marriage).

After I was seven, I flew to Arizona in the summers but the Easter and Christmas visits stayed as before. I never realized until a few years ago what a depressed child I was. I had a history of bladder infections that no one could explain, starting from age 2, so I think it may have been going on before the divorce. I know he didn't penetrate until I was 11. That last summer was awful; I still don't remember much of it. That Christmas he wanted me to come out West instead of him coming East; I refused. It would be just me and him, none of my (3) brothers were coming. I didn't really know why I didn't want to go; all I knew was I'd have to be dragged kicking and screaming and tied up to get on a plane going West then. Finally, I realized why. I was terrified of him; it's been 15 years and sometimes I still am.

I have at times doubted myself but then I think about the 9 zillion things that scream out "this happened to me". There are subtle things: poses in photographs, the fact that although I had a bedroom with a beautiful bed, I wasn't allowed to sleep in it. I had to sleep on the living room floor; he usually passed out drunk on the couch and he wanted me to be where he could get to me easily. Then there are the blatant things: three psychiatric hospitalizations for suicidal tendencies, 15 years of psychiatric care, the fact that I was 16 when I got married and had my daughter and 19 when I got divorced.

My ex-husband took advantage of the damage my father inflicted on me. I was vulnerable and rebellious at the same time and I went with him in some ways just to be contrary. I could have ruined my life with him but I managed to get out. Near the end of the marriage, we had been in the shower together and he wanted to have sex. I was at first willing but when he started to penetrate, I realized I had soap suds in my vagina and they burned, so I asked him to stop. He refused. I begged him to stop, pushing at him and crying. He didn't pull out until he had ejaculated, and then had the nerve to try to comfort me by saying he wasn't like my father. I'm just glad he disappeared after the divorce. Since then, I've gotten with a good support group that I just had to leave because I moved to another state and I'm trying to find a new one and help other people who have been through similar things. My daughter is a beautiful child for whom abuse is an abstract; she is so lucky. I wish we could all live like that; I wish that no one would ever be raped, abused, beaten, molested, or any of it. I want to try to make the world like that.

This is dedicated to my Monday night ladies-you know who you are. I miss you and I love you all.

Nora H. Parrish

I really don't know where to begin you never know how to start something like this.

I never thought something bad could happen to me boy was i wrong I like most of you don't remember alot about my childhood. MY father left my mom when i was around 4 or 5 my mother wanted us to live with my grandmother and grandfather,so we packed what we had left (my dad sold almost everything when he left) and off to my grandparents we went i don't remember ever living in the same house as them my grandmother thinks i'm crazy not to remember that. i think we lived with them 3 yr.

For some reason my mom moved us into an apartment, my little sister was 2 at the time everytime i try to remember that day my head hurts,the one thing i remember is being afraid of my grandfatheras long as i can remember i would wet my pants everytime he came around. When i was in the 6th grade i remember some of what he did my grandfather took care of the church where we went at the time he was also a elder of that church he ask me to go help him clean,i said yes no harm in that,we were in the back room where they kept the cleaning stuff i don't remember why we were in that room but he tried to kiss me i pulled away then he tried to undo my shirt i told him to stop and he did for the time anyway,the next time i remember is when he came to our house he raped me he told me if i didn't he would hurt my 2 little sisters my older sister let him do things for money. i was 14yr. old i don't remember anything until i was 18yr getting ready to have my first child (by my now husband not grandpa) I told my mom the first time it happend and she said "oh my god he's started on you guys" she said we would never be alone with him again we were 2 days later that i do remember,

i was on drugs by the time i was 15yr.old i thought that would help,i know someone told welfare because i remember the 2 detectives to this day they are my rock,i still go to them when things get bad i'm getting off the story sorry

after my mom thought my grandfather would go to jail she came to me and said to tekk them i lied because it would kill my grandmother and she couldn't pay the rent without them so i did what she ask and put everything away inside me to hide so people would never know the truth, I felt like and still do my mother let me down she didn't help me she wanted to make it go way and for her it did for me i fight it every day, i hated my father until the day he passed away i hated him for walking away from us and not knowing or caring enough to find out. I am now the mother of 5 wonderful children who i could never see letting them live the life i had, everything i do in my life i do it for them,

one day i hope to remember my childhood so i can start to heal and move forward in my life, i'm married to a wonderful man who tries to understand why i can't stand for him touch me or why i look to other men if i love him (yes i have steped out a few times) I always feel as if i'm looking for something but not sure how to find it.

I have a wonderful counseler who said alot of survivors feel that way but to take it one day at a time and thats how i live thats how i've always lived thats why we are survivors. thank you for letting take the time to do this it was a big step for me. god bless us all and keep us safe


i am the oldest of 4 children. i am 16 and a junior at downey high school. when i was 4 my mom met this man she later fell in love with. they became very close and he later moved in with us. he was a very nice and loving guy. i would call him dad because to me that was what he i considered him to be. he would always take us out and buy us gifts.

well i don't really remeber a lot of how it started but i remember i was aroung 6 or 7 years old. he would always like to get a back rub when he got home from work. i would be king enough to give my "daddy" a back rub.

one time i just remember him putting his arms to the side and rubbing on my leg. he would touch as far up as his arms could reach. i would sit(stupidly) there not doing anything. after that night i remember this repeating everytime he was left a lone with me. when my mom would take naps in the afternoon he would sit in that same room and just pull my pants down and rub his penis all over my vaginal areas. sometimes he would force me to kiss him in the lips.this went on for a long time.

like if that was not uncomfortable enough, he would beat the living crap out of my mom,my brother, and me for any little thing. once when i invited the neighbor girl to play inside with me, he walked in mad and pulled my hair and dragged me all they way to the kitchen. he made me clean up some juice that my brother had spilled on the floor.

i remember starting to hate to hate my mom because she didn't make the pain stop. she would let him hurt her.i would always cry when i saw my mom on the floor bleeding and crying. as time went by and this continued, i never looked forward to going home. i always knew the torture that awaited me.

one day i was send to my grandmas to stay there. i satrted to tell my aunt and my grandma of what was going on. my grandma immediately called the cops and they took a report. i was at the station for hours. i was put in custady of my grandma.what is funny that it all happened in halloween of 1993. she took us to san diego with my aunt to trick or treat.

well time past and i would be visited by my mom and she would take us to eat. when years past i went back to her sevsral times to try to be a family as she would always say. well i guess once you are a perve always a perve. he would do the same thing all of those times. so we would be taken away again. except this next times weren't to my grandma; we were placed in foster care.

to make this short as time past my mom won all of my siblings back. she is still trying to convince me to go back. i really don't want to risk myself anymore. she still lives with him and he does not treat her good but she says she loves him. i live in a foster home and am a year and 7 months from graduating.i have made my share of mistakes in life which i really regeret, but i am trying to make it. it has been hard because there is times when i need my mom. i just have to realize and get to my head that she does not want to live without him and for that is willing to sacrifice a daughter.i do love her very much though.

what i have learned is that you shouldn't depend on others to love you. love yourself although at times it seems very hard.

Priscilla Aguirre

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