My first experince was when I was seven I moved from SouthGate California to my aunt and uncle's house in Colorado. My parents were getting seperated for a while because my mom was going through deppression and anxioty. So my uncle would tell me to go sit next to him and then he would start touching me whene no-one was home. He did that around four times and I would be scared to tell my mom. Until one day I finally got the gutz to let myself out. So we moved out of there house and my dad came back and we moved to another place in Colorado. My past was haunting me and to this day it does. Years went by and I turned 13. That was my second expierience. I started working at a restaurant and I met an older guy there and we became friends or so I thought. We were dating for a while but I wasn't into talking things seriously or not into sex at all. We dated for about two months and on the firsts of November I'll never forget...
I was sick and decided not to go to school that day so I was alone in the house and my telephone rings it was him and he was asking for my older brother Travieso and so i told he he wasn't in and hung up the telephone. Later like around 11:00am my door was open and I was in the kichen and I heard the door open and I was surprised to see it was him!And he pushed me into the restroom and told me to shut up and he pushed me into a wall and I hit my head wich made me fall and he pulled down his pants and got on top of me and pulled mine down and slapped me across the face and I was screaming for help and tellin him to stop but there was no point. I felt a really bad pain go up into my stomach and thighs and he was jus laughing and I was cryin. And I was tryin to move pero he was holding my arms really tight. Finally he stopped all of a sudden and he got up and left and I just stayed in a little corner shaking alot with my pants down.My brother found out somehow and asked me if it were true and I would deny it but then I just sayed the truth and my mom and dad for months and months would tell me it was my fault and I was a hoe and a lot of cruel things. So i got into tryin to kill myself and so I started seeing counciling. And it didn't help for nothing. Now I'm in high school and I dont have very many friend because he tells them things and puts them against me.And so now I'm still not happy with myself and I still remember evertime I go to the bathroom downstairs and I cry. so whoever wants to talk with me or give me advice email me at email@example.com
by Ambar Gonzalezon 7 Mar 2004
Hi, my name is Leslie and I am 25 years old. I have been abused since the age of four that I can remember. My biological father started the abuse he was an alocholic and drug addict. My mom would always say you know he is "sick" he loves you. Most of the time she didn't know she worked a lot to help support the family. My sister was abused also, what we went through together was horrible. My dad made me do things that he said was love. This is how he showed love to mommy and I will always be his little girl as long as I don't tell mommy it was our secret. He started with oral sex, and as I got older he started inserting himself in me front and back. I was never so scaired in my life! Than after I got my period it freaked me out even more. But he just would not stop. He died when I was 11. Than, my mom got remarried and now I have a step-father; well I thought if I told him what had happned to me that he would treat me differently, well it seemed to just give him permission to carry on where my dad left off. And that is exactly what he had done. It got worse as I got older he would make me take showers with him, and do a lot of other things I was afraid of. Well the story continues and gets worse. After I finally decided I had had enough I tried suicide for the first time as you can tell it did not work I am still here. My step-father three years later following my attempt tried to murder me cause he said " If I can't have you no one can, and if you tell anyone I will kill you and your family," meaning my mom and my sister. Well it has been four years and three states but he has not found me or my family. I have a permanent restraning order with my mom's divorce. Please pray for me. Thanks for listening and taking the time out to read my story.
by Leslieon 7 Mar 2004
Although it's impossible, I can still feel his touch to my skin, I can still feel his breath to the back on my neck, I can still smell him on my sheets, I can still taste him in my mouth and I can still hear his voice ringing through my ears.
I think it is this, that is causing me so much pain?!
I can never sleep without dreaming of the things he would do, it seems so real, so real I wake with cuts and bruises where I have clawed away at myself trying to run from him in my sleep.
by Smile for the tears- Ajon 7 Mar 2004
I feel very isolated. My childhood memories haunt me to this day, and I live in fear. I remember my father molesting me as young as three, I used to pretend his work boots coming up the stairs were drums beating. That was how I learned to block out what was happening to me. I remember the first night my father raped me, I was around 4 or 5...he and my mother were arguing and my father was getting violent. I remember screaming from upstairs in my room for him to stop. This turned his anger on me. I remember fragments of what happened next, but I remember feeling his heavy body....and then standing in my bedroom doorway screaming hysterically, naked with blood on my legs and my sister, who was 4 years older than me was across the hall looking at me with horror, in retrospect looking at me like I was possessed and there was something wrong with me. I remember later watching from above as I lay in the tub in shock and my mother was resting on the side sobbing and filled with sorrow. However, my mother did not rescue me from this pain she allowed it to continue and she grew to hate me as if I were another woman instead of her young child. My father and mother did eventually begin molesting me together, and I slowly was literally losing my mind. I would urinate on my rug and bang my head on the wall. One time in the grocery store parking lot I was in the car with my mother and grandmother I began screaming for someone to help me and tried to jump out of the car window. The direct sexual abuse did end because my mother probably feared that if they didn't they would be found out or I would have needed to be institutionalized. However, my parents physical and emotional abused towards me did continue and so did their sexual perversity. I remember being in the fifth grade and on the way to dinner in the car with my parents my mother masturbated my father. I of course stared out the window as if nothing had happended. One day when I was in high school and I was home alone with my father he walked into the livingroom masturbating himself I was sitting by the window waiting for my friend Darlene to come and pick me up. Once I saw what he was doing I looked straight back out the window and pretended not to see him. After about a minuete he walked back out of the room and finally my friend arrived. My mother would put on her robe at night and not wear underwear she would sit down in the livingroom and put one leg up on the arm of the chair sometimes exposing herself. My parents were disgusting. They turned everything sexual and made it digusting and perverse. There is so much more that has happend but I feel tired to write anymore. I would like to talk to someone who knows how I feel. The evil cloak of shame keeps trying to wrap itself around me making me starve myself and deprive myself of feeling good. I feel disgusted especially about my mother because...I am a mother...because she is my mother and I and part of her....
by Candaceon 6 Mar 2004
My experience started when I was about 3 1/2 yrs. old , maybe four. My parents had already divorced and I was living with my mother in this little apartment in Laurel , Mississippi. My mother, being young, used to throw parties , some of them lasting overnight . ( Letting friends crash there, etc. ) Well, one night, after I had gone to bed, I woke up to see a man sitting on the side of my bed. I remember it just like it was yesterday . The hall light was on, and although I could not see his face, I could see his sillhouette .( He had the afro type of haircut men used to wear back in the late seventies .) When I awoke , I felt that he was fondling me . This had never happened to me before, but I felt that something was wrong. I felt that some wrong was being done to me . I told him that I wanted " my mommy" several times , and if what he was doing wasn't bad enough, he told me to go back to sleep, that if I woke my mommy up she would be mad. I almost think that what he said to me was worse than what he was doing. He made me believe that there was no protection to be found from my mother over this , only anger .He told me to go back to sleep , and I did, just like that. I knew that he wasn't through with what he was doing to me , and that there would be more to come . Going back to sleep as he had told me to was like turning a light out . It was easy . It was as if I just blacked out .
For a long time, that was all that I could recall .
However , the morning after this , I woke up experiencing an anger that no four year old child should ever feel . I promptly got out of my bed, walked down the hall, and stood in the doorway seperating the hall from the livingroom. I was livid. I scanned the livingroom to find the man that had been in my room . I found him , sitting in the middle of the livingroom . The livingroom was full of early twenty-something year olds, milling around, nursing hangovers . From the doorway I spoke to him.
" Say you're sorry."
The room laughed at me. I suppose they thought it was some kind of funny thing little kids do, so they all started to say" I'm sorry, Tracey, I'm sorry Tracey." And I said " No. Him." And I pointed straight at him . He looked over at me . and if memory serves correctly , he had a look of real remorse on his face . Then he said, " I'm sorry." And I said "O.K. , then." I went about the rest of my day .
What I remember after that happened , was having a really bad stomach ache , or something of the sort. My mom took me to the doctor . The doctor told her that I had a urinary tract infection, and also said that it was quite rare for me to have one as young as I was. My mother didn't tell me this until I was about thirteen . When she told me , she said " Tracey, do you think he raped...." I cut her off directly , feeling that that was an impossible thing to have happened .
Fast forward...... I am twenty-four years old . I'm in an extremely unhealthy relationship . Well, one night he wants to have sex, and I don't. But, I knew that if I said no , there would be hell to pay . So, I reluctantly had sex with him . As I was on top , hating him and myself for not just being able to say "no", it seems I had a flashback of some kind. It was this:
I remembered that night and what happened after I went back to sleep . This man , this anonymous mother-fucker , had me on his lap facing him . I remember , because there was a window behind him and I was looking at it, thinking " Why is he hugging me? " I have a pretty good idea that he wasn't hugging me, but I had the mentality of a four year old , and that was the best I could come up with . I don't have any memories other than this about that night. Other things happened throughout my life along these same lines . My mother married a man who would cop a feel whenever he could, but he knew not to go too far, because he knew that I would tell . I believe this man abused my half-sister , his own daughter . The weekend of my sixteenth birthday I went out with a male friend of mine . We drank Cisco , and smoked weed . I was an amateur drug user , so all of these substances fucked me up prettty good . Well, we were " making out " and I had NO intention of taking it past that point, but the next thing I knew , I reached down , and I felt his penis inside of me . I freaked out, and all h could say was that I should have known this would happen . Later on, he tried to tell me that nothing happened , that he didn't want to go to prison . He also had the nerve to tell me I looked like " shit " because I had been crying and my makeup was running, etc. Well, the rest entails a bunch of details that really aren't worth mentioning . But , there's my story . I've gone through wondering if I was gay , to sado-masochism . I don't think this ever goes away, I just think that if you are lucky enough to recognize it, you might be able to manage it and support others out there who don't fully realize what it is they're feeling . If any of you would like to contact me : firstname.lastname@example.org
Feel free. For once in your life, feel free.
by Traceyon 5 Mar 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.