I hate when people look me from head to toe, smile, and call me a good girl. They see me and they only see a pleasant life with no hardships or pain. They see a pure child, and that is what makes them smile. They then scoff and wave me away with their hand. They claim I will never survive in the real world, why would someone so perfect and pure survive a minute out there?
But I’m not perfect and I’m not pure.
The memories keep plaguing me; they never stopped plaguing me. Every single day of my life and I can never forget. I can never forget that month of January in my eighth year of school. The day the world became a definite black and white. The world lost its color and I was left trying to hold my childhood together but everything was falling all around me.
I was powerless.
It was the day the man touched me… I didn’t know him anymore; this wasn’t the man I had known all my life. This was a deeply twisted man and he slowly caressed my stomach. I was cold and he put the blankets and covers on top of me as we lie on the bed watching t.v. His hand slowly moved down until it reached my pants. And then it slipped inside. I didn’t know what to do-my mind shut off and I tried to get him to stop. I eventually ignored it and I commented on the show; “I would hate to get stuck with you, eww.”
“I wouldn’t mind; there are parts I would like.”
My mind raced; did he really just say that?
I can’t remember how it stopped and I can’t remember what I did after but I know I left and went to my room and probably cried. This went on for months. He always invited me under the covers and I would make some stupid excuse to avoid him
“If you’re cold you can just come right here.”
Fear petrified me and I would answer,
“Nah, it’s much warmer near the heater.”
I imagined killing him, I hated him so much; but yet I loved him with all of my heart at the same time. I didn’t know who to talk to. The one time I was about to confide in a friend she turned me down. I’ve disliked her ever since.
Thn I graduated middle school and went on a “freshmen trip” for four days. I never wanted to come home but I had to. I lied in bed with my mom and told her I hated my father and I hope he died.
“Don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”
Eventually I told her that he accused me of pornography but I never mentioned him touching me. How could I?
She was horrified enough and I had to beg her not to talk to my father. She finally listened and I went to sleep. The next day was a Saturday and my mother was a t work. It was my day with dad and I was excited for the theatres. Oh I remember dressing up in my favorite blouse and jeans and walked to meet him in our back porch. But we didn’t go to the movies that day. He yelled at me for what seemed like ours, he was so mad and he blamed everything on me although I had done nothing wrong. It was him who wronged me but he didn’t see any of that. I clawed at my arm in desperation to control my emotions. Finally he stopped and invited me inside so we could go to the movies.
I refused to budge.
He gave up and left me on the back porch. I don’t even know how I made it up the stairs. My legs must have been shaking so bad. I walked into my house and locked every door I could and hid in my mom’s room and locked even her door. I turned on the Fourth of July parade and sat on the bed in a blank for thirty minutes. Finally I called my mom and she called my aunt to come get me. My mom rushed to get off work.
Oh I was in so much denial. I even smiled that day and took advantage of my mom’s kindness to go shopping of all things. That summer was horrible. My dad wanted to see me so bad that he would call and plead for me to come see him. But I never did; and it broke my heart. I went to camp that year for a weeks and I wanted to cry on the bus ride home. I didn’t want to return and nobody understood why. They looked at me and thought:
She is so innocent and sweet. She has it so good.
My dad couldn’t stand it anymore and would yell outside of our house for me to come see him. And I had the most horrible panic and anxiety attacks. My mother didn’t even realize how much pain I was in. She thought I was over reacting but she never knew about all that he had done to me. Finally freshmen year of high school began and I eventually rebuilt my relationship with him.
He never hurt me again.
I don’t know who he was that year; he was so different. But I can never get over the pain. I never told anyone about him because he is so happy now; happier than I’ve seen him in years and I love him. Our relationship is wonderful. Why ruin it? But the burden I carry is so large…
My mind is so scarred and I still suffer from PTSD. He was the one who introduced me to porn when I was only in sixth grade and my mind is just so cluttered with disgusting thoughts. I can’t imagine having a real relationship with a guy although I still have several guy friends. Thankfully I found God and I don’t know what I would have done without Him…
I am a survivor of sexual abuse; and I’m still surviving.
But I’m not perfect and I’m not pure.
The memories keep plaguing me; they never stopped plaguing me. Every single day of my life and I can never forget. I can never forget that month of January in my eighth year of school. The day the world became a definite black and white. The world lost its color and I was left trying to hold my childhood together but everything was falling all around me.
I was powerless.
It was the day the man touched me… I didn’t know him anymore; this wasn’t the man I had known all my life. This was a deeply twisted man and he slowly caressed my stomach. I was cold and he put the blankets and covers on top of me as we lie on the bed watching t.v. His hand slowly moved down until it reached my pants. And then it slipped inside. I didn’t know what to do-my mind shut off and I tried to get him to stop. I eventually ignored it and I commented on the show; “I would hate to get stuck with you, eww.”
“I wouldn’t mind; there are parts I would like.”
My mind raced; did he really just say that?
I can’t remember how it stopped and I can’t remember what I did after but I know I left and went to my room and probably cried. This went on for months. He always invited me under the covers and I would make some stupid excuse to avoid him
“If you’re cold you can just come right here.”
Fear petrified me and I would answer,
“Nah, it’s much warmer near the heater.”
I imagined killing him, I hated him so much; but yet I loved him with all of my heart at the same time. I didn’t know who to talk to. The one time I was about to confide in a friend she turned me down. I’ve disliked her ever since.
Thn I graduated middle school and went on a “freshmen trip” for four days. I never wanted to come home but I had to. I lied in bed with my mom and told her I hated my father and I hope he died.
“Don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”
Eventually I told her that he accused me of pornography but I never mentioned him touching me. How could I?
She was horrified enough and I had to beg her not to talk to my father. She finally listened and I went to sleep. The next day was a Saturday and my mother was a t work. It was my day with dad and I was excited for the theatres. Oh I remember dressing up in my favorite blouse and jeans and walked to meet him in our back porch. But we didn’t go to the movies that day. He yelled at me for what seemed like ours, he was so mad and he blamed everything on me although I had done nothing wrong. It was him who wronged me but he didn’t see any of that. I clawed at my arm in desperation to control my emotions. Finally he stopped and invited me inside so we could go to the movies.
I refused to budge.
He gave up and left me on the back porch. I don’t even know how I made it up the stairs. My legs must have been shaking so bad. I walked into my house and locked every door I could and hid in my mom’s room and locked even her door. I turned on the Fourth of July parade and sat on the bed in a blank for thirty minutes. Finally I called my mom and she called my aunt to come get me. My mom rushed to get off work.
Oh I was in so much denial. I even smiled that day and took advantage of my mom’s kindness to go shopping of all things. That summer was horrible. My dad wanted to see me so bad that he would call and plead for me to come see him. But I never did; and it broke my heart. I went to camp that year for a weeks and I wanted to cry on the bus ride home. I didn’t want to return and nobody understood why. They looked at me and thought:
She is so innocent and sweet. She has it so good.
My dad couldn’t stand it anymore and would yell outside of our house for me to come see him. And I had the most horrible panic and anxiety attacks. My mother didn’t even realize how much pain I was in. She thought I was over reacting but she never knew about all that he had done to me. Finally freshmen year of high school began and I eventually rebuilt my relationship with him.
He never hurt me again.
I don’t know who he was that year; he was so different. But I can never get over the pain. I never told anyone about him because he is so happy now; happier than I’ve seen him in years and I love him. Our relationship is wonderful. Why ruin it? But the burden I carry is so large…
My mind is so scarred and I still suffer from PTSD. He was the one who introduced me to porn when I was only in sixth grade and my mind is just so cluttered with disgusting thoughts. I can’t imagine having a real relationship with a guy although I still have several guy friends. Thankfully I found God and I don’t know what I would have done without Him…
I am a survivor of sexual abuse; and I’m still surviving.
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