Uncategorized

Part 2: The Victim’s Voice

National Sexual Abuse Hotline:

1 800-656-4673

Continuing to let these survivors tell their stories.

As they flood into my inbox I am just so furious.

At one point yesterday I vomited after reading one of the stories I’m sharing.

THESE ARE YOUR DAUGHTERS.

YOUR SONS.

YOUR HUSBANDS.

YOUR FRIENDS.

One of the perpetrators is a friend’s husband and I am not OK.

This has not been easy for me, but especially not for these people speaking out to tell their truth.

I am so proud to call these people my friends.

8: My brothers friend came to live at our house with us for a few months in high school. The whole family treated him as a part of ours & I was only 4.
I remember him pulling me into my brothers bed and taking off my underwear. My brother was in the shower & when he came in the room his friend made it seem as if we were cuddling, being sweet under the covers. I am sure that it never crossed my brothers mind that his good friend was inappropriately touching his baby sister.
I remember his chest and the way he pressed me against it, shooshing me.
I remember looking over & seeing my panties on the floor.
I remember how it made & continues to make me feel EVERYDAY.
It effects the way I parent, the way I trust, and the way I saw myself sexually for a long time.
He would continue to molest and sexually assault me any time he felt he could get away with it in my home. That first time being the one that sticks the most.
He would also lock me in a room pulling out his penis asking me to touch it, stroke it, “you can’t leave until you at least touch it”.
I was 4. My proof is somewhere in my footed pajamas.

9: I was at a house party the summer after my senior year. A younger guy approached asking if I wanted to be his beer pong partner. After drinking 3 cups from shots made during the game I started feeling a little off. These were not full cups of beer, a little over 1/4 full. After a few more minutes I started getting the spins, I excused myself, going to a closed off bedroom where me and a few friends had stashed our purses and coats. The light was off, but I left the door half open letting a some light in. Within seconds of sitting down a hand was on the back of my head, pushing my face into the mattress. At this point I black out, when I come to I’m on the floor. My pants are off and my panties are gone. I hurt everywhere, my legs are shaking, I struggle getting myself together to leave. I’m not sure what’s happened at this point, but I know something is wrong. As I’m walking through the house to leave I pass my beer pong partner. He rubs his hand around my side, resting it on my back. He’s smirking with this look I can’t describe with any words. He says “girl you were wild.” I immediately got prickles on the back of my neck started, vomit in the back of my throat. That’s when I knew this guy just raped me. I did not and would never consent to sex with this person. And the look he gave me, it was animalistic. He seen the reconnection in my eyes, laughed and walked away. I later found out I was “roofied” at this party. It was all intended, planned out, premeditated. Ten years later he’s married to another friend from high school. I want to warn her since he’s helping raise her little boys. How do I tell her when I’m still not brave enough to say what happened out loud?

10: I have 4 instances. I was never raped but assaulted. All “popular” guys that were very sought after unfortunately.

1. From my high school. I was at by new boyfriends house and he pulled his penis out and kept trying to take my clothes off and and forcing himself on me and holding me down and force himself inside of my but I was able to fight him off. I had a friend come get me and I was able to get away. He later started dating my friend and succeeded in raping her. She had a really hard time. I did tell her beforehand about my time and I think she thought I was jealous and lying.

2. My cousins friend. I had went to school with him since the first grade. He was what I thought was the nicest person in the world. We were talking for a long time. He invited me over one night instead of going out with everyone and I thought wow I’m a priority. The whole time he kept holding my head in his crotch trying to get a blowjob. I felt slimy and heart broken.

3. I was at Applebee’s now married celebrating my friend birthday. I’m not gonna name anyone but it’s my cousins best friend. He kept throwing himself all over me. Trying to kiss me and stuff. I kept telling him no and to stop. He got super pissed and said but come on ur a **** it’s what you do. At this point I felt like this is what people thought of me. I’m a ****. We have a reputation and all people see when they look at me is a slut. A good time.

4. A family member close to my age. He would come to my house when nobody was home but me and rip my clothes off and stick his fingers in me and play with my boobs. I fought like hell. I never said anything bc nobody would’ve believed me. We were out one time. Going to his moms house. On a back road and he stopped his car in the middle of nowhere and forced his hands I my pants.

I have never talked about any of this. I can’t. My family would fall apart and I know that other people have been through way worse. It has made me feel like I’m a low piece of garbage. Like I’m not good enough. I feel like I have rambled and I may not have made much sense but it’s nice to type it out anyway.

11: It is a miracle I am alive. I come from a family in which my step mother and father molested, raped and raised me behind closed doors with the secret of rape. Among the dinner parties with friends and family around.. my brother and I suffered in silence. We had no name for what was being done to us. I never knew what I kind of day I would have living with pedophiles. My father also sold me to a man at a bar when I was 8 years old. I was tortured and raped. Several days later my father came and got me and told me that I would be “taken away” if I told anyone. It is also important to note that pedophiles keep the company of other pedophiles.

It has taken me most of my life to process what I have lived through and survived.

There are no laws that can prosecute my step mother or father since the statue of limitations has passed…

My own family has disowned me since I started talking about the abuse-aunts, uncles, cousins.. and my brother as well….

12: I was 14 when I told the police what had been happening to me for years. My father had raped me yet again and I needed to go to the hospital because I was afraid I would get pregnant after just starting my period a few months before.

I don’t remember any instance besides the last one. I made breakfast. He made me give him a blow job and then he raped me. I ran away to a friends house and her dad wouldn’t let me call the cops without telling someone what happened. I was so afraid they were going to make me go home. I told her mom and she cried and then they let me call the cops off of their daughters phone.

It wasn’t the last time I was raped by someone. There is an alarming statistic that when someone is raped their likelyhood of having it happen again is higher.

My brother molested me when he was 16 and I was 10. He was giving me a back rub and then he started touching me. He made me touch his penis and he was rubbing up against me while I pretended to be asleep. I didn’t know how to make it stop.

Sometimes when I close my eyes I still have flashbacks and I feel so dirty and wrong like some of it was my fault for not making it stop sooner.

I live in fear that my daughter will be molested or raped by a family member or family friend. I’m so afraid to even take her to daycare. I live with such bad anxiety everyday of my life because of what my parent did to me.

I may have more stories coming and I will share them as well when I get them.

These are the voices of the victims and they ALL NEED TO BE HEARD.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s