I am 30 now and I am single. I was molested by my father's brother at the age of 2 or younger, I am not sure how young I was. Then my father molested me. He had intercourse with me regularly since the age of 3 or 4 til age 13. My oldest and only brother had sex with me once also. He initiated it as well. I had already been abused by my father, so I thought that was what little girls were suppossed to do even if it felt bad. I was miserable, just miserable. On top my father exposed us kids to physical abuse to my mother. He also abused her verbally. He had affairs with other women and he drank until he lost consciousness. I blocked the sexual abuse by my father. I never forgot what my uncle and brother did to me, but I did repress the feelings. My mother was a very needy woman who was very busy surviving herself, so she was also negligent, inadequate as a mother and just emotionally absent, some times physically abusive herself. I was a very obedient girl since very little! , I tried to please my father because I learned his unhappiness was my fault, my mother kind of encouraged this belief because she was also very obedient to him and she often put his needs before hers and ours (kids). I am a middle child (out of 5 kids). So I did my best at school. My father came to the USA before us,, one year later he brought us from Mexico and the rest from getting sexually used by him was over. I hated his guts. The physical abuse to my mother also continued. As I got older my ability to contain it and repress it got harder to imposible. I went to college but I was unable to concentrate and function. I started drinking but stopped because I knew it'd kill me, then I started smoking, but I didn't keep it up because I knew I'd become addicted. I was always a compulsive eater and I always felt rather inadequate, not attractive, uncomfortable with my body. One night I got drunk I kissed some stranger and that drove me insane. I went to a therapist who ! kind of pushed me to talk about what I remembered. I was able to scream outloud it wasn't my fault. Pandora's box was opened. I didn't have enough tools to deal with the rest of the abuse. Unconsciously I fought to keep it repressed. I lost a lot of weight starving myself, I started sleeping around. I had sex with men out of spite if they seemed not to like me, or if they seemed to like me. A couple of times I was drunk and so were they. I pushed my sisters away from me. I got very sick and irational. I then decided to stick to a college aquaintance who was in a similar situation as me. The relationship was not healthy. We'd have disconnected sex, and we'd act as if there was something wrong, or dirty with it. With time part of me realized there was nothing wrong with it and despite me and him cheating on each other and not treating each other with the respect and emotional attention we needed, I learned to feel for him. He left, I felt used, abandoned, at the same time I wa! sn't surprised. Part of me loved him, part of me never got to trust him, part of me felt it made sense, part of me stayed angry for the abandonment. Just like my feelings towards my father. I also had trouble keeping a job longer than a year, than longer than 5 months. I was able to graduate from college but I havent been able to move ahead in a career. I dread being noticed, I feel awful vulnerable, I am usually depressed and I often feel ashamed of my sadness and low self esteem. I have been facing my memories and feelings for three years. I knew there was a lot, a lot to face, so it makes sense why I postponed it. At times I wish I hadn't but I was unconscious of a lot of stuff and that made it harder for me to deal with it. Now I am more aware of my hypervigilance, my social phobia, at times I feel agorophobia, I still experience a lot of body aches, back, stomach, chest, limb, head, even face aches. And it's usually sadness or anger, or fear. At times I feel pain betwee! n my legs, I can usually tell what it is, I think I am more afraid of my feelings. Depression is disabling, anxiety can be also at times. HOlding my feelings is tiresome and having them too. And all this I have it to thank my uncle, my brother, but mostly and especially my father. This is what my father did to me. He used me sexually in all ways you can think of, I still feel shame for that. My father's name is Luis and he did things to me I can't even describe here. I wonder how ashamed he'd feel if he knew I talk about him and the abuse. I wish all survivors well, may God help us all. Feel free to email me. Lilita

I went to school while corporal punishment was still legal in California public schools. (law changed 19 years after I finished high school).
I have had so many mental images of bare-bottom spankings in high school, which at first I couldn't believe to be true. Then I found a book on repressed memories, which dealt with "image memories."
With a wife who understands me very well, I can finally talk about this.
A book written by Cliff and Joyce Penner, sex therapists, talks about the major sexual impact of a spanking on the bare bottom, especially after age 8 or 9.
I am sure many others live with this, and keep finding confirmation.
The pain also included witnessing many of these spankings--especially when my sweetheart, who has a neurological condition that has emotional effects which were interpreted as willful rebellion, was spanked in class.
Even in 2002, according to one site I checked, the National Organization for Women doesn't see it as a priority issue that teenage girls are sexually assaulted by male principals through corporal punishment, in the 23 states where it is legal in public schools, and in private schools even in California!
I guess one need I have is to validate the memories, communicate with others who have had these experiences.

Shalom, Rod

I wanted to share my story. Its one that I have never put on paper before. Im in counseling now but when my counselor asks me questions related to if i was sexually abused, I deny it because i dont want to talk about it

I was sexuallyabused from the time i was 4 or 5 until i was 7. Its hard for me to tell how old I was then. My father used to drink and when my mother went to work, he would bath me and he would cross the boundary sexually. I honestly dont remember any feelings of dirtiness yet then. As a child at 8, I would masterbate and show the other kids my age what I knew about sex, and I also made a comment about my fathers penis that should have clued my mother that something was going on. However, when she heard all this she got so angry with me, she grounded me for months, she wouldnt talk much to me, she would pick up on little things i would do and call me perverted. I hated myself to the core.

By 11, i was just a shadow of a child. I began being moderately concerned about my weight, hiding my masterbation problem, and self loathing myself. I always thought my parents anger at me was my fault. Its only recently through working with my counselor and the revelation that I can see myself as a child deserving of love. I used to throw away pictures of myself as a child. Now i try to embrace them.

Toyah

well, I don't think I've ever been abused! before reading these comments & stories I used 2 think that I had, but i don't think so anymore. actually I don't think this is the right word express the exprience that I had, maybe there's another word for it that I don't know (I'm not a native English speaker).

Before getting to tell my little story, there's something that I deeply want to say to all the people who wrote here, all the "survivors". & it's that they're really brave, to tell their secrets after all. yes, of course, for a child it is so hard --even impossible-- to share such a thing, which they even may think that they're guilty, they're bad, dirty etc (as many ones have mentioned it too). but O good God, we all know that they're not but victims of adult selfishes, foolishes & carelesses.

so here I go (finally!!). well it started when I was 8. since I was 4 I used to live just with my mom. 'cos my dad had started a new family in another city. but we've kept telephone contact & he came to visit us in the other city that we were living in (& still are). & we came there 2 see him & have small trip. my parents both reaally care about me or so they believe. & when I was 8 we met this woman --who became my mom's closest friend & she still is-- & her family: youngest daughter in my age, the other daughter 2 years older & & their son who must be something like 6 or 7 older than me (or maybe less or more!). all of my life I've been told that i'm very beautiful. & it started in a party in the beging of a winter. later I was told that was snowing then (but I don't remember). all I remember is that I was dressed like a beautiful doll. & there was that wonan's all family. & so everybody else. it w! as just I, fatherless, just with mom. I couldn't really feel the gap of it but there was that man (her husband) treating me in a special way (nothing abusive of course). but I felt angry, insulted. something like 'my father wasn't there & he wanted to be kinder', & of course I was pretty. I don't know, I don't know, maybe I've just been over-sensitive about it.

any way, we became closer & closer to them. As I was the only child I always enjoyed the company of adluts, or at least the elderly children. so I was more willing to be with the boy rather than the girls. & it happened. he started touching me. first just back, on my shirt, then got further, through my cloths, on my whole upper body, but still just on the back. & of course, I did object. I've never been the silent type who let people do what they want to do to me. & once he put his hands in my panties & that was too much. I can remember the nasty way he whispered to my ear: "do wanna hurt me?..... I love doing this...." whenever I objected. I tried not to let him, of course I knew it was sexual. but still I enjoyed his company. now that I look back at those days again I think maybe I even tried to please him too (just by my attitude, behavior I mean. never anything even physical, let alone to sexual). maybe because I was alone,! hardly any friends.... oh but he was the same asshole that his attitude showed (sorry for my words). once I told him this, I told him that he's so flirtacious & he hurt!!

& finally I decied to tell mom. O God I do know how hard it is. & at the end I could give her the sign & she realized. she said she told it to his mom but I've never known if she really did. she does give too much to her friendship with that woman.

years past & I thought it was all over. I had forgotten about it, accepted him as what he tried to be to me, not a friend of course, maybe a cousin, not someone I really cared about. then something more than 3 years ago, when I was something like 13 years old (but physically fully grown), I called him to come & get my new CD & give me his new one. mom was gonna get out of the house & he did know this & was supposed to come after that but he didn't! he came sooner when mom was not home & I --not remembering at all about what he used to be-- let him in. we talked about music & this sort of stuff & I played a beautiful ballad which I liked very much for him. "stop that, it makes me feel like something" was his reaction which I didn't take it very serious. "no no, just listen to this part, it's perfect....". he repeated his sentece this time more seriously & louder, so I stopted. we were done with the CDs & he w! as supposed to leave, so why he didn't? we stayed near the main door as he put his hands around my waist & said "do U know how much U've grown up?.... do U remember the 1st night we met?... it was snowing...." in a nasty whisper. .....oh.....no, no........ not again, I was slapped by the cold wave of memories. I don't know if I was scared, but I couldn't move, I couldn't slap him & tell him to get the hell out of there. oh I refused to have his hands on me, but he held me tighter & I dicussed it. & this is the part I hate myself for that, should have objected.... but I didn't & it went on like this,... a kind of heavy petting & he finally left the shit out of there. & I collapsed in an armchair & I sank into it. being angrier to cry. angry of myself, him, who denied all I was, used me to please himself.

oh this abuse was more mentaly & spiritualy I guess. U know I'm so sensetive spiritualy & after that I decided to make him fall for me, bring him on his knees & then leave him to his endless need & desire. it was a childish aim, U all know. & I never even had the chance to try because we barely saw eachother. he even ignored me completely in a trip in the country of the city & the end when he drove us back to home he said something that sent over the edge & I blew up with anger ".... it was the 1st time that we came to such a trip with alone, just our own family". that was it! he didn't even considered us as a family, we meant nothing to him & after that I left him completely to his own pitiful world, not even thinking of him. in the summer after that once again we met when I was alone in the house. I can't remeber of the details but I was shivering in the fear of that thing repeating, thank God it didn't....!

now we still see each other sometimes & he gives us the most stupid ideas about his future wife! the most rubbish thing U can ever hear... & I don't care. now. I have the best man in the world who loves me & I'd die for him. I'm so grateful to him 'cos he taught me the magic of the right touch & the love that flows inside it...

thanks a lot for listening, all of U. once more I share my sympathy & love with all who wrote something here. it's too brave of U. I wish healing for all of our wounds. I hope we 'all' get well. I hope we cure, not just us who've been abused but even those who are that much ill & sick in their minds who do this to us. wish a better & safer world for our children. Sagha

I am 30, I was born into a dangerous and unhealthy home in Mexico City, My father battered my mother and abused her in all ways possible. I came to the USA at 13 with my family and we joined my incestous father who had been living here for a year before we joined the #$%^&!!! (him). My uncle, my father's youngest brother played with me when I was about 2 years old, he stuck his fingers very hard inside my vagina and pressed my clitoris violently. Here started severe dissociation. Then not long after that my father put his penus inside my mouth, then he penetrated me regularly. I don't remember lots of things. I started to face the memories about 3 years ago. I just wasn't ready before then. My brother also had sex with me when I was about six, he is four years younger than me. My father had intercourse with me last when I was 13. And I don't remember more, I hope that was the last time. Fortunately I didn't get pregnant.
So I did manage to get a bachlors in psychology, took me seven years because of depression and other memory and concentration problems. I haven't had much energy nor time or interest in getting involved in romantic relationships in the last 4 years, when I thought I had energy and time, it was just caotic and
disfunctional and part of me still wonders what was so wrong that those men left. My last boyfriend even
blamed the whole disfunction in the relationship, even his, on me. He said I knew what I was doing that hedidn't, he said he thought he'd never get rid of me, and other cowardly stuff, that really reminds me of myfather. He found a nice looking girl and married her. And of course even though in my mind I knew how things really were, emotionally I have been taking responsiblity and blame. And of course this comes frommy childhood experiences. It's easy, "I am the one that feels dirty and bad, so I must be to blame". So I am terrified of failing again in romatic relationships and I honestly don't feel very attractive or anythingof the sort right now. And I have been working with a therapist and I have been very open to my feelings,talking to my child inside, but it's very hard anyway. It's very hard, so hard. I wasn't aware before of how disabling and painful my depression is and how paralized I really am, and how much I dislike to be noticed, I wasn't aware how much I hunger for comfort and love, and how confused I am about sex and healthy everything. I feel awful empty and alone at times and it helps to share with others, to know I am not alone in this constant painful empty places that come and at times feel will never leave. I still have trouble feeling pleasure and functioning more in terms of career and relationships with men, even though I know myself better and am more able to express my feelings. In struggling to survive I have been addicted to sex, to smoking, to food, to not eating, and I have had trouble with alcohol. I hope to get in touch with other survivors. CLH

I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. That is so hard to write. I didn't think it would since I have been in counseling for too many years already. It's almost embarassing to say that. I have had the chance to look and to read the many letters and stories that you have received. I am no different than they...I rage, I pain, I scream the silent scream, I reach up for hands to grasp me and save me from the cold and black depression that engulfs me. I remember! I thought that if I would dedicate myself to God as a Sister, it would all go away. But it hasn't. In fact, the pain is deep, deeper than I would have ever imagined. And now, the very church I dedicated my life to continues the secret and tries to protect the oppressors. Are there any other Sister survivors on line to chat with?
deb

Hi my name is Angie, I am 22. story...
I was first molested when I was 4 by a group of 4 neighborhood kids that ranged from the ages of 5-12,
3 boys and one girl. They all took turns touching my privates and rubbing theirs against mine until my mom called me for dinner. When I went back outside they were still waiting for me so I ran back inside and told my mom. When I was 8 my moms boyfriend molested me when she went to a party. It was the first time she had ever left me with him. The only tv we had was in their room. He told me I had been good all day so I could stay up and watch tv for an extra 1/2 hour. He climbed in bed with me and stuck his fingers under my panties and rubbed my privates. I just froze because he told me I had to stay there and I didn't know what else to do. I went to my room and cried the rest of the night. I told my mom 6 months later when we were watching a show on date rape and she told me to tell her if anyone had ever touched me.
That same night while my mom was outside he pulled me on his lap and started touching me through my clothes. I had a box of McDonalds cookies in my hand so I hit him over the head with it and told him to stop. He continued until my mom came in and then left and I told her. Those were the only times that he touched me like that but he used to watch me in the shower and bath and would rub baby oil on my body so he could wash it off. The state made me start counselling and I was in it until I was 13. Plus they made me have a exam done that was humiliating. The guy never spent a day in jail and the state said I should
have defended myself more.
When I was 11, I was abused again by a guy that our family was staying with. He was always trying to
kiss me and touch me. Then one day when my mom went out with his girlfriend I asked him to play a
board game with me, he said only if I played a game with him first in his room and he started touching me and leading me down the hall. I told him I changed my mind and didn't want to play any games but he picked me up and carried me, I grabbed the door but he was too strong. He threw me on the bed and pinned me until I promised not to run. Then he started touching me and took my clothes off. Kissing and touching all of my body and rubbing his privates against mine. He told me I was his secret girlfriend and couldn't tell anyone because they would take me away. He also used to make me put his privates into my mouth. He used to try messing with my mom too because she had my counsellor as me if he was touching me, but I lied. I didn't want to go through the counselling longer or the exam again. Then when I was 16 a friend of the family started abusing me. He knew Chiropractic stuff and used to work on me so after awhile he started telling my pelvic bone was out and he would stick his fingers inside of me. He used to kiss me and touch my breast and then he started making me let him do oral sex on me. and that went on for almost a year. I am tired of holding all of he guilt and blame. I just want to heal now. Before I read some of the stores on your site I thought I was crazy for the way I felt and for some of the things I tried like cutting up my body to release pain and thought it had to be my fault because of how many peolple I had been abused by. I would like to be able to have a few frieds to talk to so I can heal and hopefully help someone heal also. Thank you for listening.
Angie

My name is also Susan and I have a little here to share with you all. This is from when I was about seven. I remember feeling extremely cold as we picked fireman up and trying to hid behind bitches seat. I even tried to sleep but could not. I could hear them talking but not really hear them. For everything I was ever afraid of nothing compared to the fear I had at that time. Some how I had finally managed to fall asleep but was awakened as fireman lifted me out of bitchs car. He held me a lot like Judy did but
he was harder not as soft as her. He was telling me that I was going to become his that weekend and how i will forever wear his mark. I was going to learn to be servant to him. He was telling me that I would love him as he loved me. He told me I would shake no more. I can still feel his words from his deep chest vibrate into my side where we were connected. I wanted so much to escape but I could
not. That is when I saw the first woman. There she was tied to a tree just kind of hanging there with her arms high up in the air unable to move. There was no clothing on her. He saw me look at her and he told me that I would do that for him someday. I would stay there for days if I had to. I could not stop my shaking it got faster with every step he took. Then thankfully for a while I escaped. Next I can
remember the pain that I felt as something was clenched real tight down there. It shot a pain I thought I could not bare. I was told by people I did not know that it would not be long before the area dies and then I will be his. I tried to get rid of the pain but I could not move. It was so cold yet it was so hot and I had to break free. The woman next to me told me to relax she had the same thing done to her and
if I relaxed and breathed easy the pain would soon go away. Again I escaped into myself and Sally was there to keep me company. She told me she would stay with me. I then could feel myself be lifted to another more soft place. The burning was still there and I could not ignore it and I could not get back. I was so tired and my body ached so I did not fight with anyone. The woman that brought me to the new
room brought me a small pill and told me to take it, it would make me feel better and boy was she right. Sometimes even now when things get to where I feel I can not deal I wish I could find a pill that could do what that one did. It seemed like everyone was singing all around me. I even think I was singing blowing in the wind at one time and that is the first time I was really able to look at him. Actually
it is the only time I ever really looked at him that I can really remember. I can remember that he looked at my burning and said it was a very nice job. That now I was his and I would never forget it forever and well you know he is right. Thanks to that weekend and how bitch made it so I went i will never ever forget about it and how i became his. there is more to this i know but i find it very difficult to
deal with it so as for now this is all i can share.
Take care,
Susan

My story begins about the time I was seven years old,I think.My mom and dad,whom I thought the world of,lived two separate lives.Mom got pregnant before she married and in those days,there wasn't a choice and she wasn't happy,so she began to stray and Dad looked for comfort by the bottle.He had
a friend named Jim who was divorced and would spend alot of time at our house,and although Jim was my mom's target after they would all go out drinking together,I became Jim's target when everyone went to bed.I too,was led to believe that if I told my mom would hate me and that I was the one to
blame.I never understood why my mom wouldn't see this and there was even a night when she let me go spend the night at this man's house,where he lived with his mother.I was too young to understand that this wasn't normal behavior and when my mom was out playing around and my dad was passed
out,this was all I was getting for attention.This lasted for a couple years then they all had a"falling out"and Jim no longer came around...but it happened again when another divorced man,Don came around.By then I was so brainwashed that it probably continued til I was ten or eleven.Then when that finally ended,I went through the psychological and verbal abuse that comes from a drunken father who just doesn't care.Imagine a 350 pound man calling his 13 year old 120 pound daughter fat and when I would tell him I got an"A" in a class,he would shrug his shoulders and say"so.."My mom was working swing shifts and supposedly did alot of overtime,but we never had any money...it was several years later that it came out into the open that she was having another affair with another"Jim"who is now my step-dad.With the neglecta nd abuse,I turned to food for comfort and have been a compulsive eater ever since.At 38,I am 5'7" and weigh 195 pounds.I am on a constanbt battle with my weight and my self-esteem.I have had alot of problems in my life(distractions is what I like to call them)to block the abuse from my memory.A major distraction in my life was having my husband of 14 1/2 years die of cancer in 1997.We had a pretty good marriage,but I was a total bitch for unknown reasons.Then I got into a bad
relationship four months later because Iwas so insecure that I didn't want to be alone.That was a short one,then I got into a second one that lasted 3 years and it was never a good one,because his drugs were more important than I was and he ignored me as much as my parents did and he told me I was crazy.
Six weeks after I kicked him out,I started dating John,a man I have known for a very long time.He was four months into a divorce from a wife who cheated on him and was a little hesitant about dating but we fell into a wonderful relationship at the beginning...Cinderella story??NOPE!!Because all my distractions were gone,alot of mixed-up feelings were surfacing and I felt like I was going crazy.John was a psychology student and felt like it might have something to do with my childhood and talked me into getting therapy.I have been going for a couple months now and am learning to deal with the anxiety attacks I get whenever John and I are apart and I am struggling hard with the feelings of jealousy that tear me up when I see him talking to another woman.I know he is not fooling around on me,but crazy thought take over my head.I am truly blessed with such a loving man and future husband and I want to treat him like I should treat him,and not like a control freak who cannot let him out of my sight for a moment.I am looking for someone to share my feelings with,someone who knows how I feel and someone who is not afraid to let a friend into her heart.We need to reassure each other that this is truly not our faults and we might not be able to change the past,but we can sure change the future!!And if there is one thing we got out of it,it's tha ability to make sure it doesn't happen to our children.
I have two teenage children and John,who is seven years younger than me,has two young boys.I love children...I just lack the ability to tell them so.Because of this,my children have not known love like they should.I am far too overprotective.I am the kind of mom who attended all their games(my mom
and dad didn't)I even coached them.I was the cool mom to all their friends...but we cannot have those heart to heart talks like some families do.
I would love to hear from someone who has these things in common with me....
Tammie

From as early as I can remember, I've known words can hurt. I've spent most of my life being told how unpopular I am, how fat I am, how stupid I am, and what a failure and dissapointment I am. I was told these things by my parents. I've always been smart, but my mind wanders a lot. This used to get
me in trouble at school and at home. At home, besides the yelling, until age 10, I'd be spanked with a leather belt too. Sometimes it was only 5 or 10 swats, and sometimes they lasted until I would pass out. Afterwards, I would be locked in my room, and not let out until my parents decided I should be.
After age 10, even when I got my grades together and did really well in school, I would still be ridiculed and told how stupid I was. In my high school grduating class of 250 people, I was #20 as far as highest grades went. Even though I was thought of as a nerd and studied a lot and was in National Honor Society, I was still told I was lazy and stupid and fat and not trying hard enough. My parents, especially my mom, would also take any chance they could to encourage me to eat less and to diet more and to not be so disgustingly fat. I've never been thin I admit, but my parents never seemed to care their words would make me cry. For a lot of my time in high school and college, I was liable to break down and start crying for no reason, and to have panic attacks. I still have the panic attacks now. The
only time I confronted my parents about sometimes crying for no reason, I was told it was just because of "chemical imabalances" and that I'd just get over it if I was more grown up. I was also never popular enough for their liking. They couldn't show me off if I didn't have a lot of friends too. So they told
me and reminded me and pointed out to me how lonely I was, and how much better everyone would like me if I was more outgoing, and thinner too, of course. Nothing I have ever done was ever good enough to make my parents happy, and I have a lot of trouble with trusting other people and it's almost
impossible for me to see anything good about anything in my life. I have a wonderful mate, a great job that I like, friends, all of those things, and I still always feel like I'm not doing enough, like I'm not trying hard enough, and no matter what, I always know I'll be too fat for anyone to ever really like how I look.

- Sethor

hi my name is marita and i am now 43 yrs old. i was sexually abused by my grandpa at the tender age of 4 yrs old. i never told anyone for over 22 yrs. i was too scared to. i am now wit a nice guy and have 2 kids who are wonderful. me and my daughter are very close. i still need help for i cannot talk much about the abuse for it pains me so much. you see he did oral sex on me in my crib. he would come to my room at night and you could smell the alcohol and it was so horrible. i cried and cried. then i was sexually abused by my uncle when i was 10 yrs old. oh how i wish my life was not so hurt like that. i sometimes am scared to have sex for it ruined my life and the man i am with is very patient with me but i know i hurt him for he knows what has happened to me for i told him. but sometimes i don't think he understands. i wish so hard i had someone to talk to. someone i could just spill my problems out to and would talk to me. you see no one will let me get it out so i can cry and maybe learn to let go. sometimes i hear a voice at night crying for mom and it goes on alot. its a little girl's voice and it comes from the closet when i am alone. alot of ppl think it is me when i was little. but my mom passed away when i was 4 yrs old. thank you for letting me send this story in. i would like to get a pen pal if i may thank you for listening.
love marita

I was ten, He was my friend's big brother Stephen. He was 17. I have only begun to see it. For years, I am 48 I have known that I didnt see my sexuality as others. It has been dark, dangerous, and a source of pleasant and trouble. I have always been too quick to have sex. I have had sex with too many strangers. I get fat tooo many times. I chased the best man I have ever me away because of sex. He thought that I didnt wnat to have sex with him. I couldnt have sex with him. The demons which have haunted me. Always telling me that there is something evil about me. I am different. I am a 10 year old little girl in bed with STephen. It has been my fault. It has tainted everthing in my life. I am still little Mary Ellen. I struggle with the faact that I didnt ! stop him. I can back for more. He was my best frinend's brother. I know that there was no way I could have appreciated what I was doing. I have been told that it was rape. He had criminal intent becuase he knew. He was responsible. I want to be a survivor. I want to recover. I want to be whole. I want to be able to love a man. Finally I feel hopefully. I can understand how this has left its mark on me. I hope that I can see its impact. I can be heathly. I need to nedd reading material, survivning and living with sexual abuse. I want little Mary Ellen to heal. I want her to grow u. I want her to know that the world is safe. I want her to know that I will take care of her.

I am also a childhood sexual abuse survivor. it was the worst life i ever endured i was threatened to keep it guiet nobody would believe me anyway. so for all these years i kept the abuse by my stepbrother guiet. these children have it made back when it happened to me no one cared enough to intervene. what was worse was the fact my step brothers mother never ever ever admitted he was doing anything wrong. and for that i feel denied a childhood of security and love. and safety.what makes me laugh is the fact my grandmother knew he was a pedophile he molested a 12 year old captains daughter in the army and was nearly thrown in levinworth for it but his mother bought him out of the army with dishonorable discharge. he is still out on the street he was married twice the last marriage ended when his wife found out he Molested her sisters 3 daughters . He did end up in jail but momma got him out againand she gave him money to run which made me even more bitter towards her and him.
dottie

Hi, my name is Latisha. I also have been sexually abused as a child like so many others. The number of people who have been abused in my family and circle of friends amazes me. My Grandfather, my father, my uncles so many perverts. my father sexually abused me at an early age. I'm not even sure how old I was. My brother was a sickly child, so Mom was constantly in and out of the doctor's office with him. And left me with my father. He'd wake me and in his hand would be a jar of Vaseline. He'd rub his penis around my private part. I would lay there and cry. I'm not sure when it stopped, but it did eventually. At the age of 9, my cousin whom i confided in told my mother. She asked me about it, and I lied to her. To protect her and keep her happy, I lied. At the age of 15, I confronted my father and asked him why he did it. Only to! find out he had been abused also. But had no excuse to give me for his abuse to me. A year later, my parents and I discussed it. And because he was in front of my mother he lied. He said he didn't remember doing anything. My mother took his side and said that he was on too much medication for seizures at the time, and he probably didn't know what he did. I was so hurt and felt betrayed. And as a result, grew to hate my mother. To this day she haas no idea how much that hurt me. He is a Christian now, and after years of him cheating on my mother, they are finally happy together. I feel I have come to a peace within my self, but I am so afraid that one day it'll all change. I am married now to a wonderful man whom I love with all my heart. We don't have kids but I am afraid to have any, for fear that this will happen again. I will be too protective and hurt alot of family who just don't ! understand. But I live on, each day. I have survived this far and will keep on surviving. There's alot I don't understand til this day, but I teach little kids at church and try my best to tell them that it's wrong and to tell someone. They are so sweet, and innocent. And each day I pray God will keep his hand of protection on them so no one will ever hurt them. Thank you for developing this site. It is a wonderful haven for us. And I'll keep you in my prayers. Latisha

I am 15, young I guess, but compared to other people my own age I feel so old. I guess I will have to start from the beginning.... I grew up with my dad who was wonderful in his own way.He was understanding and kind, but being a single father doesn't help much. He never really had any time for me. I moved a lot and changed schools often, and I was always alone. When I was ten, my father married my step mom. At first, she really did seem to love me and I, lonely child that I was, did everything that she wanted me to. Don't get me wrong, compared to other people listed here, I am lucky. I was never sexually abused, I do not have to carry that burden as well. I have realized, in the past few months, that I was being emotionally abused as well as physically. She would whip me with her belt, yell at me, call me a whore, kick me, pull at my hair. I always thought that she was right, that I was bad. One day I came to school with bruises on my arms and my friend Erin asked me what had happened. I was getting tired of "falling down" and I truly had had enough. I told her to call me and I would tell her everything. As soon as I came home, my step mom blew up at me for leaving a sock lying on the floor instead of in the hamper. She "accidentally" slammed my hand in the door and left a gash on my face with her fingernails about an inch deep. After school, Erin and my other best friend, Chris, called me and told me that they had gotten together at her house because they felt that I would need them both. Chris told me that he would always be there for me and Erin told me to get out of the house, to go to my grandmother's. She lives about a mile away and I realized that Erin was right. I called my grandma and spent the night there. My dad came and got me the next morning but even he finally realized that there was a serious problem. My step mom is in therapy and I am dealing with being manic-depressive. In age, I am 15, in my soul, which was killed before it even had a chance to live, I am older than anyone I know. -Ryvenna

Hi I am Julia and a mother of 3 well now 2 . I just found your site and I read "Barren Thoughts" by Kim. The story I have to tell is alot like her's except it was my daughter who was abused by her brother. The ages are very close she was 71/2 and he was 11. He had repeatedly sexually abused her for over a year and she never told . One Sunday evening at 6:47p.m. on May 12th,2000 I had went upstairs to check on them it had gotten really quite , and there he was on top of her with his hand over her mouth and choking her . My daughter is now 10 and he will be 13 in a couple of months. We had found out this had been going on for over a year and she told no-one because after the first time he held a knife to her throat and told her he would kill her if she told. Now we tried really hard to get him help because he obviously had a BIG problem and we got no where . So after awhile it just came down to choosing between my children. And that's what I did. He felt that he done no wrong and even bragged on doing it again. So on September 5th,2001 I gave up my rights to the one who took my wonderful little girl away from me .On Valentines Day just 2 days ago she cut all of her hair off, she had beautiful long strawberry/blonde hair. I asked her why and she said she didn't know . We where in therapy until September 2001 and the therapist decided she was ok and "don't fix what's not broken" call or return if something comes up. We have NO support groups in our city for girls her age or any age, except adults. Anyway Kim's poem just touched me alot when I read it and I am so sorry her parents done that to her. Because one of the hardest things for me to do was give up to the state my son because he needed help , but what is even harder for me to do is wake up every day and know my wonderful beautiful little girl has this pain I can't take away and I can't erase it from her memory. I pray to God every day to ease her mind and help her to be happy. She doesn't like to talk about it and I don't force her but I do let her know I am here for her. She has very low self-esteem problems she doesn't trust any one. She has a 14yr.old brother who is her protector and he stuck up for her many times when the other one was still around, and she now and has for awhile acted afraid of him.I have asked her why and she simply said he is a boy.She has nightmares, but they have seemed to calm down some.I printed Kim's poem and I'm going to give it to her , so she can read it ,I don't know if she will understand it all ,but I know she will understand part of it. I'm sorry this is so long ,by the way my daughters name is Lisha. And I hope her and I will be able to come to your site together so she won't feel all alone and I can better understand how she may be feeling .I'm just afraid I don't want to make her feel anymore uncomfortable than she already does. If you have any ideas please e-mail me and I would gladly except any information that will help my little girl.

Thank you
Julia ...Lisha's mom
P.S. I'm sorry this was so scattered around it was avery long story and I just gave you the quick version.