Anonymous

I would like to start by saying that your web page is a wonderful resource for people who need to find their own path to healing. Thank you for having it and for sharing your story.

My Story

I'm not sure how to start. Maybe I should start from now and then go back. Right now I am a 28 year old woman who has two wonderful children and I have been married for 7 years. To people who meet me and the people I pass on the streets I am a caring person who goes through life taking care of the people around her. That assumption isn't far off but there is a deeper part of me that hides from view. That part of me that has to deal with being a survivor of sexual abuse.

I started counseling in February of 2005 and although I am a long way from being healed, I am even farther from the scared and broken girl that I was. I once said to my husband that it is hard to start your life as a broken woman. For me, my life never began until I was 18 and moved 3000 miles from my family. For me, I felt like I was already broken, not good enough for anything. For me, it hurt to breathe.

The abuse started when I was about 4. I don't remember the age so much as the house. I remember the room where I was first raped and the way I left my body. The acts are just blurred images but every detail of that house is fresh in my mind.

My abuser was my stepfather and he loved to abuse us, my 2 brothers and 1 sister in every way possible. I have been punched and thrown across the room by my hair. I have had the belt taken to me until I was screaming. I have woken up to him strangling my mother and mentally and emotionally beating us down. He was the master of guilt trips and I would apologize to him for not being good enough.

The abuse went on until I was 8 when I had a short break from his physical attention. It didn't stop the mental attacks. He would sit me in front of pornographic films and tell me that when I got older, I would want guys like that. When I got older I would let him do all those things. He would try to bribe me to give in to the physical acts but somehow during those few years of relief I was able to keep him from raping me.

Unfortunately, it didn't last. When I was 11, I came across a dying dog. I raced home to get her food and she followed me home. My mom let me keep her for a few days while I nursed her to health. I had been through so much abuse by that point. Daily he would threaten me and try to coerce me into a sexual act. I was dying inside. I wanted to die or run away. The dog gave me focus and gave me something to nurture because I had nothing left in myself to nurture.

My stepfather saw that need, saw how much I loved that animal, how much I needed her and he threatened to take her away from me unless I gave in to his demands. I knew it would happen because my mother wanted to get rid of her. I gave in. I thought that if I could save just that one soul, it would make all the difference in the world when I was nothing but dust. I felt dead and I knew that he would force himself on me anyway.

That is one of my biggest guilts. Somehow for about 3 years he was cautious about touching me, I think he knew I would break if he pushed too hard and I had opened the door to more abuse. I know now that it didn't matter. He was an adult and I was a child. He manipulated the situation so that he could continue the sexual abuse. My mind tells me that it wasn't my fault but I wish it would tell my heart.

My mother left him when I was 12. He became even more violent and we had to go into hiding for several months. He found us and I ended up having to go for bi-weekly visits to his house. The sexual abuse became even more frequent and I don't remember a weekend with him where I wasn't being raped. The dog I had saved was gone and with her went my heart.

I started drinking around my 13th birthday and doing drugs before I was 14. I had tried to kill myself but could never go through with it. My mom went on to live her own life with her new boyfriend. I was merely an afterthought. My brothers who were older lived on their own and my sister who was also older was kicked out by my mother. She has her own story to tell but she suffered the same sexual abuse that I had. I was alone most of the time and sometimes when I was my stepfather would come over to my house and try to break in to rape me. He would try the windows and doors and tell me he knew I was in there. I became terrified of the dark and being alone at night.

When I was 14, I was arrested for possession of a narcotic. My mom had had enough and after one big fight, she kicked me out and sent me to live with my stepfather. I told her I didn't want to go but I didn't have a choice.

The abuse became even worse. My life became a living hell. I drank more and dig drugs more. I would drink myself to the point that I would vomit all over myself. He wouldn't touch me if I was vomiting. He tried to make me sleep in his bed like his wife. He tried to make me buy condoms like I thought what he was doing was right. He would beat me and hold me at gun point.

One night he stood me in the dining room and he described my death in detail. He described how he would rape me and torture me until I bled to death. The whole time he sat there with a sick smile on his face and a light in his eyes.

The police were called in several times when he was threatening killing people by shooting them. They never took me out of there. Someone had found out that he was sexually abusing me and they would phone him and threaten him to try and make him stop. He phoned the police and the police started investigating the phone calls to put an end to the harassment.

Another night after he had beat me and held me at gun point, he passed out after all his fun. I remember walking into the room he was in. Picking up the rifle, and pointing it at him. I stood there with that rifle aimed at his head, praying for strength. I don't know if I wanted the strength to pull that trigger or the strength to put the rifle down. In the end I moved the rifle out of his reach and went to bed.

When I was 15, I went down to visit my family who lived an hour and a half from me. When my weekend was over I phoned my stepfather to let him know what time the bus would be in. He started telling me how he was going to beat me and how he was going to rape me. I hung up the phone and said I'm not going back. I stayed at my brother's house and started looking for a place to rent and a job.

My mother begged me to move back in with her and after giving her ground rules I did. My first ground rule was that I would never have contact with my stepfather again. There were other ground rules that had to do with my relationship with my mother and today people I share my story marvel at the strength of a 15 year old girl who decided to save herself because no one else was doing it for her. I still have a hard time seeing it that way.

I lived with my mother for almost a year an a half before I finally had to disclose the abuse I went though. In that year I had quit smoking, drinking and doing drugs. My grades in school went from D's to A's and I was functioning, although not at a 100%.

When I disclosed the abuse, my mother didn't think it was as severe as I said it was. My sister didn't admit to the abuse until a few years after I did. My mother took the news of my abuse and she blackmailed him to obtain a divorce he wouldn't give her. I went to one counseling session and then no one talked about it.

My mom got married 6 months after I came forward about the abuse. I moved out of her house 5 and a half months after I came forward. My sister got married 1 year and a half after that and when I was 18 I told her and my mom that I couldn't be a part of the wedding because my stepfather was giving my sister away. They got mad and bullied me into being there. I pretended it didn't matter.

I moved away from my family after that and would only talk to them when I felt the need to. They continued to have a relationship with my abuser and my mom would use the fact of my abuse as leverage to get things from him.

I somehow managed to attend and graduate from college on my own and as a honour student and award recipient. I also managed to start a wonderful family and I have been with my husband since that week when I was almost 17 and disclosed my abuse. My husband has been with me since day one and I have found my guardian angel though him. He knows that he can't protect me from anything but he can lift me up when I fall.

Everything shattered in me and my rage surfaced when my mother told me she was buying the house I was raped in from the man who raped me. At first I tried to hide the feelings but then I realized that that one act had triggered so much. I started to go to counseling and then I confronted my mom. She told me not to be stupid, to grow up. That it was my fault because I never told her when I was 4...or 5.....or 6....and so on. She put me on hold and I just let her pretend the conversation didn't happen.

When I started group I realized that my family was toxic to me. I couldn't get better when they dragged me down so I divorced my family. It has been a struggle and they contact me now and then to give me grief. To lay blame on me. The last time I talked to my mother I finally said that I was just a child and she was the adult, it wasn't my job to protect me. When I disclosed to her, I was still a child and it wasn't my job to charge him, it was her's the adult. She asked me why I wasn't charging him today and when I said that I would have to destroy my family to charge him she said that I was selfish. It hurt a lot but I know that I don't have to charge him to find myself, to be able to breathe and carry on towards a better future. I also know that my decision to divorce my family was the right one, especially when it comes to my mother. She always blames me for the abuse, for not coming forward while it was happening.

I know that my story is not over and that I have a long road ahead of me to walk down. I do know that I am getting better, that my sky is that much clearer and sometimes I can feel the sun's warmth when before I couldn't even see the sunshine. I thank the people in my life now for that and I thank God for guiding me through my darkest days.