Surviving Sexual Abuse

This is my story of sexual abuse, how I survived it not once, not twice, but three times. This article describes my emotions at the time, and finally, how I coped and was able to forgive and move on. I hope my story can help at least one person out there or give them the courage to forgive and be able to go on with their lives.

The first time I was sexually abused I was between the ages of four and five. It was at the hands of a family friend. At the time I didn't know that what he was doing was wrong. He would sit me up on his lap and whisper in my ear how we were going to play a "special game" and how it would be "our special game" that no one could know about it. My abuser would then put his hand down my pants and begin to fondle me. Being so young I didn't understand what the "special game" was about. It didn't feel right but at the time I thought everyone played the game, after all, I noticed him playing the same game with his granddaughters so I thought it was ok.

It wasn't until I was in about kindergarten or first grade that I was told that games like that were wrong. A police officer came to class to talk to us about saying no to strangers and how you should never go with them no matter what they tell you. He then went on to talk about being touched inappropriately. The officer described what areas were our private areas and how they should never be touched. We were then told that mean people would try anything to do that by sometimes calling it a secret game. He said also that they would tell the child to not tell because it was a secret. The officer told our class that this person was called a sexual abuser. I knew then that I was being sexually abused, but I still didn't say anything. Even at that young age I felt ashamed, although at the time, I didn't know the name of the emotion I felt.

After learning this I tried hard to never be alone in a room with him. I remember my brothers and I being dropped off one day to be babysat by this friend and his wife. He cornered me ready to play the "special game." I told him no and left, heading outside to hide. Of course he found me. He then told me if I ever told he would harm my mom and dad. I remember being scared and crying. He never touched me after that.

It wasn't until I was in about 4th or 5th grade that I was finally able to tell my mom. I only told her then, I believe, because she informed me that my dads best friend's father was in jail for sexual abuse. I finally felt safe to tell my mom what he had done to me. My mom was stunned and began to cry. I remember her holding me and telling me it wasn't my fault. She then put me into counseling to help me deal with the abuse. Counseling helped me to understand that sexual abuse is never your fault and I was able to deal with what happened to me, but never forgot.

The second time I was sexually abused was at the hands of my uncle, who at the time was about 16 and I was 12 or so. We lived in a small home. My brothers and I had to share a room. During this time my grandmother, step grandfather, and my uncle came up from Florida to visit us. My granny and step grandfather slept in the living room. My uncle slept on a pallet of blankets on our bedroom floor.

They had been visiting for a few days and it was the last night that this assault took place. I awoke to feel his hand up under my nightgown and he was fondling me. I jerked up in bed and asked him what he was doing. He tried to act like he did nothing wrong. I laid there horrified for the rest of the night, wondering how could my own uncle do that to me. I remember thinking, had I been acting in a way that would suggest to him that I wanted him to do that? I knew in my heart that I hadn't and for the second time I felt ashamed. I wanted to get up and tell but didn't. I lay there confused and angry. They left the next morning to return to Florida. After they left I told my step dad what happened. He then took me to where my mother was working and I had to tell her what happened. I was scared, ashamed, and embarrassed. I didn't want to tell her. How could I tell her what her brother had done to me? Most of all would she even believe me? My mother listened to what I said and for the second time she believed me. My mom became angry, hurt, and upset because this was family and family was not supposed to act that way. She called my grandmother to tell her what happened. My uncle lied about it and my granny believed him. Needless to say it divided our family. My mom stuck by me and believed me where as others didn't think he did it. My mom told me again it wasn't my fault and to be strong and not worry what others in the family said about me. It was hard because I hated the family being torn in that way. I also hated the fact of being doubted and being made to look like a lier, but at the same time I knew in my heart what happened. I still carried with me guilt and embarrassment. I began to feel anger at him that he could do that to me and not feel bad about it. He would come around me after all this took place with almost this smugness to him as to taunt me and say ha ha I got away with it. He knew what he had done and he knew he gotten away with it.

The third time I was abused was again at the hands of a family member. It was my mothers other brother. I told right away and charges were pressed against him. He was charged with simple battery as well as had a restraining order against him. During this third incident I lost my faith in God. I became depressed and unsure of whom I was. I was bitter and at one point thought about ending my life. I didn't feel I had a purpose in this world other than to be some piece of meat for all the perverts of this world.

I went on with my life but was full of anger, keeping it bottled within me. I finally realized that I had to do something or it would eat me alive. I turned to my preacher at the time. He told me I had to look deep within me and forgive them, until I did, that it would continue to eat me up body and soul. He also reassured me that God hadn't forsaken me or caused this to happen to me. There are sick perverted people in this world. The sexual abuse I sustained was not my fault. He then told me that one day these men would have to answer to a higher power. In the mean time I needed to forgive them, pray for them, and let it go.

I wasn't able to forgive them that day. It wasn't until a couple of years later that I did. I had grown tired of feeling like I had a burden to carry and of not confronting the ones who hurt me. I wrote both my uncles a letter. I told them that they knew and I knew what happened those years ago. I told them that one-day they had to answer to someone higher up when they left this world. I then told them that I forgave them and would say a prayer for their souls. I had finally come to terms with it and in my heart finally knew that I had done nothing to cause this. I mailed them the letters. It was no surprise that neither one acknowledged the letters, but I was ok with that. I felt a peace in me that I hadn't in a while. I was lucky to have my mother stick by me each and every time. She was there for me to cry to, she was there in the middle of the night when I had nightmares. Never once did she not believe me. I know most people that go through this can't say they have that type of support.

The family friend that molested me when I was younger I never confronted him or had the want to, to do so. He was out of jail and had been for years. His abuse towards me affected me but not as bad as what happened with my two uncles. A couple of months ago my mom ran into one of his daughter-in-laws. She informed my mom that he had passed away. My mom called me and told me the news. To be honest I felt relief. I was relieved that he wasn't going to be able to sexually abuse any other children but sadness because I am not sure that he ever got his soul right with God. I can only hope he did.

If you are or have been sexually abused please know that it's never your fault. Remember to tell someone and report it. Seek comfort in family, friends, counseling, or some type of support group. Talking it out does help, at least for me it did. Last learn to forgive and let it go; don't let them have the power over you to keep you bitter and angry. You'll never forget what happened because I never have. But in the end you come out a stronger person than you ever thought you could be.