Trauma.
Let’s talk about trauma. I’ve been through a lot. Raped repeatedly, molested as a little girl, pregnancies through rape, miscarriages, emotional abusive parents, non-supportive family. I have no one on my side. Besides two people. While keeping their names private, we’ll call them Lis and Etta. They have shown me so much support than my family has in all the 23 years of my life. I have known Etta for 7 months. I have known Lis for 4 years. They have been absolutely amazing and I knew I can always count on them for anything. They gave me a place to stay, food, love and support when it was truly needed. I couldn’t have made it through life without them.
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My first ever trauma. Molestation. It was absolutely horrible. It was all I ever thought about. It was engraved into my brain. What my father did was horrible. But no one knows. I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone. I couldn’t loose the only thing that brought money into our lives. We were broke. He brought the income. I couldn’t do that to my mom and brother. So I held it in. I’ve only told three people. Lis, Etta, and my therapist. We’ll call him Mike.
I was scared. I remember the night so clearly. My mom and brother were two hours away for a birthday party so they stayed overnight at her friends. I was stuck with my father. I didn’t like the dark. I was maybe 8 or 9. I had my teddy bear. I love it. I still have it to this day. It’s currently on my bed. It was the one thing that helped me through the tough times. I asked my father if I could sleep with him because I was really scared. He said “Sure. But I want you to lick my dick so I can eat your pussy.” “No daddy.” He got angry with me, pushed me out of the way and said “If you don’t do it, you can sleep outside if you’re scared.” So, I let him. I cried. And cried and cried. I tried so hard to tell someone. I tried to tell him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He finally fell asleep after hours later, so I snuck out of his room and went straight to mine and cried myself to sleep. Almost 15 years ago, I’ve held this in for so long. He never admitted to what he did. He continued until I hit 12–13 years old, to the point where I was getting old enough that I could remember what he was doing and that I could tell someone. But I will never forget. Our first vacation with my father and little brother, he brought me into the other room in the hotel and wouldn’t stop touching me while I was on my period. Our camping trip, he stuck it inside me while my brother was asleep right next to us. He wouldn’t stop. It was constant. I hate him. I hate he did it. The nightmares never went away. He’s always been a creep. He’d message girls my age. He’d make inappropriate jokes. It just never ends. Never.
