Over the Rainbow - a site for survivors of any unwanted sexual activity
    Jeannet's Story
I was molested at the age of five. My mother would leave me at her friend's house to baby-sit me while she went to work and that's where it happened. There was an old black sweaty looking man sitting on the bed. He was shivering. Now that I think of it he had to be in his late forties, early fifties. He quickly told me to come to him. I did as I was told because back then you were taught to listen and do everything that an older person told you to. He started to feel up my ruffle dress and just wouldn't stop touching me down there. He kept touching my nipples, my stomach, and my vagina. Then he made me kiss him down there. I didn't realize at the time what was happening to me, but I started crying because I didn't want him to touch me anymore and I felt so bad at what I was doing because it was unfamiliar to me. Immediately after this happened I ran to tell my mother what happen, then she slapped me on my face and said little girls can get in a lot of trouble lying about grown men like that. Then she forced me to believe that it never happened. For a while that's what I believed. Nevertheless I noticed a separation between other people and myself. I would always sit by myself because I thought that I would get hurt even more if someone were to ask me about my personal life which consisted of abuse, neglect and molestation. I was always alone. I had nothing to look forward to it seemed. I was poor, had no friends and at the time seemed like I just had no future. I was a relatively nice girl but I just didn't talk much. This spirit followed me until Junior high school. Where a particular teacher molested me on several occasions. Back then I didn't think it was molestation. I just believed every word he said when he told me to sit on his lap (when there was a movie playing and the lights were dimmed) and that he wanted to give me a back rub. Which always ended up being a thigh and butt rub. Much to my surprise I passed his class without even needing to show up. I would skip class regularly because he would always do that to me. Then I went to high school. This was suppose to be the best years of my life but on the contrary was the absolute worst. Another teacher molested me again my whole sophomore year. The teacher was the same race as the ones before which has caused me to hate my own race. I would always try to help out but much to my surprise turned out to be a victim again.  

My problem today is: That by the time I stop being abused I have grown accustomed to the abuse. How could I not have? I've never been in a good relationship, my mother would always beat and neglect me, I'm confused about my sexuality and I don't know what to do with this hurt in my heart. I'm actually attracted to older men! How weird is that? Maybe it's because it's the only love I know. They stimulate my mind but in a hurtful way because when I have sex with them I always want them to basically rape me. I don't want to go into any more detail because I might offend someone if I haven't already. I don't think this is a normal way to live but I'm twenty-five and I've been living this way for I don't know how long. My whole life I guess. The only things that help be besides God are singing, dancing, writing and a prescription drug. If not for that I would not be able to literally walk out of my apartment door. Literally. I've tried going off the med's and the whole world hated me and I didn't know why so I'd hide in my car, apt or wherever I could. I'm confessing this because I truly believe it might help someone. I don't want any sympathy. It's too late for that. I'm done with that. I just want to help people not get to my point.


   
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