I was sexually abused by step father from the time I was 5 (may have been earlier, I seem to remember being VERY young and seeing him naked trying to get me to touch him) until I was 14 years of age.
I remember him starting to teach me about sex (with my mother around) by just talking normally as he would to describe the act to a young child. But soon my mother started working out of home, and being left alone with him, he took it upon himself to show me personally.
I liked it at first. I didn't think much of it until I started taking sexual ed courses in school when I turned 11. My step-father had told me that it was perfectly natural for a father (I did not know he was a step-father until I turned 18) to physically show and caress his daughter sexually to prepare her for her sexual encounters when she grew up.
I tried to get him to stop a few times, but He started to make me feel shameful when he started questioning my love for him.
I lost my virginity to him when I was 13... at 14 I finally told him to stop. From then on he no longer touched me sexually, but he punished me for anything he could think of.
Everything came out when I turned 17... For 3 years I suffered horrible nightmares and broke down in school in the middle of a math exam. A fellow studentís parent stopped me and I blabbed.
Since it had been too long to prove physically with rape tests, I was called a liar. My step-father had taken a lie-detector test and "passed with flying colors". When I demanded the police to have one myself, they stated "even if you did pass, we would always take an adult's word over a child".
http://www.freewebs.com/tamaralynn/amazing.htm This is the complete story... it's long, but It's my experience.
I still feel ashamed about what happened. And even though I've found someone I truly love, I sometimes still feel myself shirking away from him. Sex no longer pleases me (mostly due to my Depo-Provera usage, which stopped just over a month ago).
I feel ashamed because I used to go to HIM for comfort and to feel good...
I can't stop but think that if there is a God, I will spend my eternal afterlife in Hell.
by Tamaraon 6 Sep 2004
Hi. My name is Bec and I am 27y/o.
I was sexually abused by my older brother from the age of 10 to 13.
I only began to speak out about the abuse about 3 years ago. I told my parents and they are very supportive and have pretty much dis-owned my brother, thier only son!
I have been hospitalised on and off over the past 4 years with anorexia and this last time spent 11 weeks in a mild psych hospital for my ED, self harm, depression, anxiety, Borderline Personality and PTSD.
I am having therapy 3 times per week but am still struggling to come to terms with the abuse.
I still feel a lot of guilt over 'telling the secret' and feel like I have ruined his life and also shame and guilt around the abuse.
I was also raped by an x boyfriend when I was 19 and only 3 weeks ago was raped by a stranger.
This all too I blame myself for!!
by Becon 5 Sep 2004
Ok. I've never written any of this down before...so please bare with me.
It first started when I was about 5 years old, by a friend of the family who would often babysit me. He would touch me and put his hands all over me, and put his fingers inside me. I was so confused, I didn't know what was happening. He would make me take off my clothes and stuff, and it was just horrible. The first time he actually raped me, I was 7 years old. I was so scared. It hurt so much...I can't describe it. I just tried to forget what was happening. He was at my house alot, and stayed there alot...so at night, he would come into my room. I always have flashbacks, and I can never forget the image of him on top of me, holding me down, hurting me, laughing at me. I get so mad at myself now...because I realise that alot of the time, I could have just screamed or something and someone probably would have heard me and come to see what was wrong...but I never did that.
Last year, I was at my uncles house, my my cousins boyfriend raped me there. They thankfully have broken up.
Ever since I can remember, my father has been abusive to me, and my mom is very unhappy with their marriage. I hate it here. I'm only fourteen though, so I don't really have any where else to go.
I self-injure, and have attempted suicide...so I've spent a few months in a psych horpital place, and I have to go to alot of counseling. I recently started telling them about the abuse from the friend of the family, so...yeah. But I can't help feeling guilty and ashamed, because no matter what anyone says...it's really my fault, because I could have stopped it so easily many many times if I just screamed...but instead, I let myself go through that for nine years, and I hate myself for it so much.
by maryon 5 Sep 2004
Sometimes I'm afraid he's changed me forever. Sometimes I'm willing to endure the pain and the fear just to have him near me again. A part of me adores him no matter how he's abuse me. A part of me wants to scream at him 'I love you! you SICK f*ck! I love you, comfort me, you hurt me so much, comfort me!' Most of the time I hate him so much I wish he'd die, I hate him for raping me and keeping me scared. I'm so confused. I remember once he was angry after I called him over to 'talk' and I threatened to tell the police what he was doing, or tell someone unles he left me alone and he started pushing my skirt up and I was fighting him to keep my clothes on and my legs closed and begging him not to rape me again, I apologized for what I'd said, I begged him but he wouldn't meet my eyes and kept fighting against me to get my legs open. So I fought agianst him until I was too exhausted to even push my hair out of my face and I thought he must have been tired too because he stopped. It was all I could do just to drag myself from under him, turn over and try to crawl away. I was very naive and thought he couldn't rape me if I wasn't on my back with my legs open, but he did. I lay unmoving on my stomach staring at the light coming through the shades of the window while he raped me and I felt like I was ashes being slowly sifted into the wind. He leaned over to look in my face with a big evil smile on his face, he was laughing and telling me to look at him. I felt like I was dying so I just wanted someone to comfort me, ironically the only one there to comfort me was the one who was hurting me so I reached for him and begged him to hold/comfort me. He just pushed me away and finished raping me. I didn't feel anything, usually I felt pain but that time I felt completely numb from my waist down, I couldn't even feel my legs. Afterwards he threatened to hit me for not recovering quickly enough. That's another one of the times I can remember. But a part of me adores him, Adores him. Most of me hates him so much, so much. I'm so confused. How could I like him at all in any part of myself after everything he's done? I'm so confused.
by Parihanon 2 Sep 2004
He was my best friend in the world, I thought that I could look up to him for anything. He had always been kind of a bad kid, but that didn't effect me much. After all, how could a brother sooo perfect be so bad? He was 14 years old and I thought that he was so cool, I wanted to be just like him. But all that changed, more quickly than I could ever imagine. 3 of my friends from across the street, I was 5 years old so of course they were staying over and we were playing barbies and everything was fine. My parents needed a night out so they went bowling and left my brother to watch us.
He told all of us to "come play a game with him". So we did. He told us to yell profanities at thugs walking down the street. "Stupid wigger! dumb ass fools!!" And many more. It lasted forever!
Then he told me to get something for him out of the bathroom, a cutip, so I did. When I came back all I saw was him with his shorts down playing with my friend's private parts. I couldn't believe it. When he saw that I had seen him, he got very upset and slammed me down on the bed and started tearing off my clothes. It was so scary. He started making me do things to him and then he stuck his finger in me. It hurt so badly and all I can remember is screaming NO NO, STOP BUBBY PLEASE STOP!!!
Our next door neighbor heard the screaming and called the police. They saved my life and I will never forget them. I am now 16 years old, 11 years later and still suffering from it. I still keep in touch with him but I will never forget and Iíll never trust him again.
I am learning to move on and I have accepted Christ into my life and that pushes me on.
Thanks for reading.
by DeeAnn on 2 Sep 2004
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This site is offered for support of other survivors, it is not meant to be a substitute for any kind of professional help. I don't have any qualifications or training in therapy, I am by no means a professional. I claim no responsibility for the use of this web site, use of content, or content of any links leading from this site. If you are in a crisis situation I urge you to contact your local rape crisis center or health care professional.