My Effed Up Story

First, I want to start off by saying how surprised that there are not more people on this peculiar, yet beneficial site. I do no think people trust this and normally I would not either. However, I am at a strange point in my life where nothing really matters. I have nothing to lose and I am tired of hiding, protecting others, feeling ashamed of stuff I could not and can not control. There is no longer any shame in my game, and nothing left to hide. It is what it is....

Like many other women, I was molested more than 1 time. Sometimes, I am sure I blocked out, but there are a few that I can remember. Like most women, I was molested by family members or close family friends. I am a typical statistic you might say. Where do I begin?

Hmmmm My mother told me as an adult that she thought I was molested by my father at age, 2 based on something I told her. However, after talking to a few professionals and a physical follow-up...nothing came up. I do not know who to believe. Should I believe my mother who believes it happened or do I believe my gut which says, "no way". I believe my gut because I have never, ever felt uncomfortable around my dad. He is my ace boon koon and I love him!

Before I can tell you about my first experience, let me say that I have a slew of incidences of inappropriate sexual curiousity as a child. I was so interested in seeing things I was not suppossed to see, touch things I was not supposed to touch. I can go as far as to say that I even played inappropriately with my friends sometimes, "Yall remember house?" And that is something that has always just been in me, no real reason for it. I was a good obedient child, good grades but that stuff was in there from somewhere. This leads me to believe that some abuse happened at a very young age and that I am blocking it out.

The first time that I can remember "it" happening, it was with my baby sitter's 17 year old son. I was only in about the 3rd or 4th grade and I would go to this older woman's house after school until my mom got off from work. I remember this older boy making me touch his engorged penis. I can still remember the nappy hair on it. I blocked out if he did anything to me...but I am sure he did. It would always happen in the babysitter's dark basement. He would threaten my not to tell. And because he was over 6feet, about 200 pounds, I believed him. However, after it happening a while, I felt horrible and dirty inside...even guilty and I told my mother who in turn confronted the babysitter. The babysitter cursed me and my mother out, denied it all and told us never to come back. My mother never did anything with the authorities and of course I never came back. However, I would see the boy and his mom from time to time. This is where I began tucking stuff away.

I want to say that my mother's godson who was also a teenager at the time did something to me when I was 8 in a bathtub, but this is way too blurry to recall. I just remember my mother asking me over and over, if he did something. So because this is so blurry, I will talk about the next one, which I do remember a little bit.

The second incident that I can remember was done by my mother's first cousin. He took my innocence the worst. At the time, we lived in a crack house of sorts. My mother's boyfriend had just left me, my 1 year old sister and cousin in a home because of my mother's drugs. He had been arrested for whipping her butt a few times too and was advised to leave. My mother could not pay rent, she did not work and was strung out on drugs. This is when crack hit the scene and boy was she a fien. She did some strange things for some change. It was not with random people, but people that I knew she should not be sleeping with. I will take those names to the grave I suppose. I think the most embarrassing moment is when she dated the neighborhood crackhead. That crushed my pride and the kids teased me

The house I lived in does not even exist anymore. In fact, the whole block is gone now. The 3 level rowhome was old. We had lead (and my sister ate a lot of it as a baby)and even had rats living in there with us. No food in the refrigerator, no hygiene products. In fact, I remember my mother handwashing our clothes in the tub..no washer and dryer. I remember baking soda and peroxide for teeth brushing...no toothpaste. I remember mixing sugar and water together to make syrup for pancakes...no syrup. Oh yes, the homemade pads made of toilet tissues, old socks and napkins...no sanitary pads. How could I forget the baking soda and water mixed for my arm pits...no deodorant. Oh I could go on and on, but this is where I was. At this point and time in my life I already had low selfesteem from being overweight, teased because of my off brand clothes and shoes. My mom was a crack head and crazy...so I took slack for that with kids at school and in the neighborhood. We moved every few months, so I could not keep stable friends. I ended up hanging with a bully named Trick who looked like me, so she called me Twin. She treated me like ish but boy did she protect me from the neighborhood gangs or cliques. Nobody messed with me cuz of her and I was thankful. I grew up in the hood. Gunshots, police, fights, drug needles and viles on the ground was every day life.
Boys told me that liked me, and I believed them not realizing they wanted my body.

I lost my virginity around 11 or 12 I do believe to a boy I found disgusting. However he was persistent and obsessed with me. The grownups would tease me and tell me how much he was inlove. And it was his validation of me, acceptance of me as I was, and thinking that I was beautiful that made me vulnerable. I do not remember much about losing my virginity besides the fact that I was empty inside and it hurt like hell because he was so huge. I can not remember if I lost my virginity before or after my mother's oldest cousin stalked me with his eyes weeks before groping me, chasing me around the house to touch me inappropriately, making me touch his penis and the ultimate degrade....but I know it came around the same time.

I will never forget the day I truly lost my innocence. He asked me to let him give me a horseyback ride, and I did. But instead of doing what he said, he turned me around and hoisted me up on the kitchen cabinet with his thighs holding my weight. And then with one strong thrust he hoisted his hands under my butt as he lifted my body up and rubbed his body on mine up and down "rubbing pants". I was paralyzed with fear as he moaned as his penis got harder. He held me tighter the harder he thrust and then something strange happened to me. My body began to shake out of control, something was happening down there. Without the morbid details... I now know it was an orgasm. Was it my first? I can not remember but I know I lost my virginity the same summer I was molested by my cousin.

I still ask why? But when he approached me, time after time, I felt so afraid to say no. I felt like I had no right to. I was scared because he was strange and my self-esteem was so low that I felt maybe I should go along with it all cuz I deserved it. I finally told my mother about the abuse after the day he really took my innocence.The fondling and touching could not compare to the freakin' out over the orgasm. When I told my mom... She did not do much. She made him apologize which he did in tears...crocodile tears. She also threatened to have him killed and beat up. But that was about it. He stayed away for a few weeks but was right back again a few weeks later getting high. I was forced to deal with him as if nothing happened. However, he never touched me again. But I know I am not the only victim. I am sure my sister was one later on down the road as well. I still have to deal with him at family events today and it makes me sense.

That same summer all this went down and my crack head mother did not pay her rent, so we were evicted. And I watched my friends and neighbors take everything we owned in front of my in my face. They were even bringing carts and there own bags to steal our stuff.And I could do nothing but watch and cry. I lost everything I had except for one bag of clothes. That day, my father out of nowhere scooped me up of my rowhome steps, prepared to raise me with my one bag of clothes. I remember standing in the rain outside of his home, shaking my clothes, preparing for my new journey. He was a God send. I was 11 or 12, had already lost my virginity, had fooled around but not had sex with about 5 or 6 neighborhood guys, some way older than me. I was falling apart, I was torn on the inside. And although daddy saved the day, he could not protect me from the sexual abuse happening again.

My life was better at dad's. I went from rags to riches. I went from the hood to the "suburbs". I had my own room, my own bed, no roaches/mice/rats, nobody bothering me, no gunshots, no real drama. And although his girlfriend/baby mama hated me there wrecking up their happy home with my 5 year old brother, she dealt with it, and I was happy to be away. Almost 4 years had gone by with no abuse. I was in high school, making A's playing sports and being a "good girl". I had a steady boyfriend and life was good. I was even working with one of my mom and dad's friends. I tutored his kids 3 days a week for $25. That money was all mine and I bought my toiletries and saved it up to go out with my friends etc. And at the point in my life...all was well. That is when my final attack came.

At age 15, I was a fine young thang. I shed all my baby phat and was playing sports. I dressed nice, had my own feminine thug style and was fairly confident considering what I went through. My parents' friend (they both grew up with him) seemed legit to help me make money in exchange for me making sure his kids passed school...since I was a cool nerd! I thought that he really cared about his kids and their education, but really he cared about getting me to his home. It started off with showering me with gifts and electronics "just because". The next step was sex propositions. He would come in the house, and when no one was around, spread $500-$1,000 on the floor and say, "this is yours if you give me your virginity". Little did he know, my innocence was long gone. But his fantasy of me being so pure, so pretty, so innocent and his close friend's daughter turned him on even more. Of course, I turned down the propositions but I kept coming to work. I was faithful to my job and did not know that I did not have the right to NOT take that inappropriate behavior.

Then the behavior got worse. It went from that to groping, grabbing, trying to stuff his tongue down my throat, jumping on top of me, trying to make me feel his penis, touching me inappropriately.It had got really bad and it was to the point where I hated going there! Everyday, I would get a nervous lump in my throat and get butterflies when I thought about having to go there. And looking back, I do not know why I continued to go. I am not sure what it was. Fear, feeling obligated to the kids, worried about people asking me why I quit, low self-esteem/self worth? I am not sure, but I do know that I remember hating it! Absolutely hating it! And then one day, after at least a year of dealing with it, I finally got the courage to tell his wife one day on the way home. And just like with the first two times I told, nothing happened. In fact, in that car she denied that it could be the truth, she cursed me out, called me names and almost put me out her car. And she too, told me to never come back again. And I did not. ANd when people asked me why, I protected him and never told a soul...until he died when I was in college. I told my boyfriend whom I later married what he did to me. And when he died, I felt nothng. I did not shed one tear, and people we perplexed as to why I did not go to the funeral. I hated him!

One day, I sat down and wrote down all the sexual inappropriate things that I have encountered, and the numbers were too many. Somehow, for years, I escaped the fact that I was a victim. I never really talked about it or dealt with it because I felt I did not have to-especially since it was not affecting my life---or so I thought? But that abuse, has single handely played a huge role in the issues I have today. And that stuff did not start coming out until I was older and started to be more introspective.

I try not to judge God, but I admit that sometimes I do. As if growing up in my circumstances with a drug addicted, mentally unstable mother was not enough--then there was the abuse on top of it.

This is just my sexual abuse story. The wounds from my life story go way deeper. I am just beginning to acknowledge that it is time to let those demons from the past go, so I can move on with my life. But I really do not know how. Who do I talk to? Who can I trust with the innermost part of me? Who can I be that vulnerable with? Not my counselor, not friends, not family, not even my precious lover....strangers? Yes strangers.. An online community of people who have been through the same thing and who will get "it". THis is my first step to healing...I have a long way to go!

Unlike the adults in my life who shunned me when I spoke about what had happened to me, you all won't? For those people who judged me for what I and my parents allowed myself to go through, I know you won't. And for all those adults who never protected me as a child when I cried out for help, I am bigger now, better now and I will not let you hurt me anymore.

The devil has been trying to kill me since I was a small child. He has tried to kill me and my spirit. This is one of the reasons that I know that the work God has for me is huge. The enemy recognizes who I am in Jesus and has tried to take me out every chapter of my life. I am still here...still fighting to just be.

Maybe people like me are not meant to have ordinary lives, to be normal, whatever that means. But I am trying to stay in this race. The funny thing is that these sexual abuse issues are deep, dark issues that I do not even know affect me until my soul gets heavy, and dark and I get depressed. It affects my relationships, my trust, my thinking, my self worth. I feel dirty, guilty, unworthy of love for things others did to me. And I think these current events in my life can not be the only reason, I am feeling this way. These demons have to go away. This is my first step...I am not afraid anymore!! I have nothing to lose...

Heavysoul12, thank you for sharing, it took a lot of courage for you to write. In writing, we remember more, so don't give up on yourself!

There are so many souls, boys/girls, men/women, who have yet to reveal their 'story'. One told me that it hurts too much to bring it up.

In my own family, the whole story is still not revealed. I was there being abused, but I never saw the others get abused. They refuse to talk about it. It makes me crazy sometimes, but I understand.

I have no childhood memories of my sisters and brothers. Only a few events have I been able to recall. Sad, isn't it. That some boy, man, girl, woman could not control their desires and caused so much pain for so many. But in my heart, there is a compassion because I understand, only the Grace of God kept me from becoming one of them.

It is such a wide spread disease that no one even wants to talk about, so how can people get help if they will not even talk about it?

But we cannot neglect the abusers as much as we want to despise/hate them. Most of them were abused themselves. We are among the blessed to be able to talk about it. The more you get it out in words, writings, and other alternatives like massage, rolfing, anger exercises to get it out of the cells, the better you will feel.

I talked to a therapist for years before I told my family, when I was about 40 yrs old. One day I told her this was not working for me; I stopped going to her. I was always suicidal. When I did all the other alternatives and more, I got better.

I knew the problem was within me and I have given all my time, money, effort, tears, and great pain to get better. I started with Al-Anon and help create the first black Al-Anon group in our community. In doing and giving, I got and received much more. It started me to sharing, to admit that I had a problem.

So, heavysoul12, bless the creator of this site, I do not know her personally. But she took the thought, God-Given, to bring this site to us, to help us all heal. You are not alone.

Your story helps me not to be so hard on the teens/adults of today, they have stories to tell that my mind cannot even image happening. We all need help and prayers to live another day.

santacruz1997

Thanks for the compliment Santacruz, and thanks for sharing your story Heavysoul! And you're right, this sexual abuse that we have experienced could have crushed us, but there's a reason for your survival. Even though there may not be alot of people on this site right now, I have noticed that there are many reading the post. So, do not think that your story or anything that you have shared is in vain. Your story is helping someone whether you know it or not, perhaps even saving a life! You are definitely on the right path being here on this site. One thing I noticed about your story is your resilency. And sometimes we as sexual abuse survivors forget how strong we really are, especially when we are so busy comparing ourselves to others and society's definition of "normal." I know, because of done it, only to find out that some of the people I was comparing myself to only appeared to have a "normal" life. Some were living a facade, wearing a mask professionally, publicly and privately. And I definitely agree with Santacrus about alternative modalities. There are a bunch of them, a few of them are listed on the Resource page of the main site: www.blacksurvivors.org. In addition to therapy & support, I used: myofacial release, self-hypnosis, reiki and meditation. These modalities REALLY work. And the reason why they work is because they help you control the victim mentality. And what I mean by that is because sexual abuse survivors were victimized at an early age, we tend to take on that persona in every interaction with people be it at work, in our relationships, friendships, etc. And you'll know when you have it because you'll either: blame other people for your problems, constantly refer to yourself in negative ways, always be in arguments with people, etc. I'm not saying this is you, but I know it was definitely me. I found myself saying stuff like: "He MADE me mad." "She PISSED me off." "She MADE me hit her." I didn't know it years ago, but the sexual abuse I experienced as a child paved the way for me to have a victim mentality. Years later, as an adult, I realized I was giving my power and self-esteem away by making statements like this. Today, with the help of all the combined therapies, especially self-hypnosis and meditation, I rarely think like a victim anymore. Remarkably, this REALLY helped me heal tremendously from the sexual abuse... Hang in there Heavysoul! You may not realize it in the midst of all of this pain, but your life is really changing.

I commend you for telling adults. I never did & I always wished I did. But I can see from your story that it may not have done any good.

But still, you showed a lot of courage even as a young girl.

Thanks! But I actually didn't tell anyone, including adults, until I was in my 20s...I didn't believe or know that I could heal until I became an adult. I am a much happier and healthy person now since I started the healing process and I work on my recovery everyday. Inititally, I was scared to get help, but so many doors have opened since I began this process, including the fact that I am now able to help other sexual abuse survivors in their healing process. And believe me when I tell you, this is NOT something I EVER imagined myself doing, but I can honestly say it is rewarding to help other survivors.

gettinovermypast wrote:I commend you for telling adults. I never did & I always wished I did. But I can see from your story that it may not have done any good.

But still, you showed a lot of courage even as a young girl.