While doing research on Molestation and girl gang life, I came across this short story by a woman only known as 'dramatizedent' on a website called experienceproject.com. Her story is captivating, heart-wrenching, honest and brave. I reprinted it here for convenience.
I AM NOT THE AUTHOR OF THE FOLLOWING!!!!
"I was interested in sexual things at a very young age. What seems to me now- being 24- abnormal curiosity. I think it may have originally stemmed from my mother letting my watch inappropriate movies and also her being with many men, in front of me.
My mom dated my stepfather when i was VERY young... about 2 or 3. They broke up and got back together when I was 5. That's when it all began... or at least maybe. Sometimes i think it could have happened when i was younger bc sometimes when i am in a sexual situation i will picture my mobile that was in my crib.
So when I was 5 my step dad moved in with my mom and i. That's pretty much when it all began. He would wake me up in the morning and get me ready for school. He would rub my stomach and then move up to my lack of breasts. As time went on he would kiss under my shirt. I didn't really think it was right but it didn't feel wrong.
When this wasn't going on he was busy torturing me in other ways. Forcing me to eat unreasonable amounts of food and that beating me on a timer for every 10 mins i wasn't finished my food. He worked night shifts so he was home with me all day and my mom came home at night when he was at work. The only relief i got was the molestation.
Because I wasn't eating-- who can eat when they have a huge knot in their stomach bc they know they are going to be beat?-- my mom started asking me questions. and when i was six and a half i got up the courage to tell her what was going on. She asked me to show her what he was doing... i knew it was sexual but i couldn't quite explain what he was doing so i just acted as if he was having sex with me.... but that is not what happened- he was touching me with his hands... all over now.
My mom called him to come home and I was terrified. He sat on the couch and cried, asked why I was lying about these things and asked me if i was just saying these things bc i was jealous.... "Yes" i lied...
A few months later a baby boy was born to them. Now they had their complete family... oh and me. i was not getting much attention, and i WAS upset by that. My eating problem continued and though the molestation had stopped for a bit it was picking back up as the baby wasn't so new.
Sunday nights were the only nights that he was home bc of work. the worst night of the week. My mom would cook dinner and i would sit across from her staring her dead in the eyes bc i was not hungry, but was being forced to eat. She would leave the dinner table and go into the bedroom. So here we were, him glaring at me for the whole 2 hours it took me to be able to finally force down my meal. Then it was time for a bath. so he would give me my bath then we would go sit on the recliner and he would touch me. with my mother sitting right there on the couch. this went on this way until we moved when i was 10.
I was no longer having eating problems for the most part. Breakfast was always a challenge with those nasty centrum vitamins that i was forced to eat after my half pound of cereal, but for the most part things cleared up with that difficulty. He was still touching me every chance he got... now coming into my room in the middle of the night when he got home from work. i was used to it- it felt completely normal and good... something that is always hard to admit. It was way better than being beaten bloody, or having your face slapped so hard you couldn't open your mouth. So i gratefully chose being molested.
He and I got along great. we talked on the phone every night while he was at work. It was like some sick and twisted relationship. He started in this time (i was probably about 11) orally molesting me.
One day my mom and i were riding in the car and she told me that when i was younger i had said he was doing things to me and she was asking basically if he was now and i was mad. What good would it do if i told her the truth when she didnt do anything the first time. Everything was going fine just the way it was. Sure i felt dirty and knew at this point that something was wrong... but it felt better than the alternative. "no i dont even know what you are talking about" i told her.
One day i was getting ready to go to a friends house who lived down the street. I was upstairs in his bedroom asking and seeing when i had to be home when he told me that he needed to talk to me about something. He said " do you like what we have been doing?" My blood ran cold. i was used to it for so long did i like it... "i dont know". so he tries a different approach... "Let me ask you this... do you dislike it" "No" i said and ran out of the house.
It continued getting more frequent.... almost every night i would think. and as i was getting older and interested in boys it was feeling more and more wrong. I feared him so much that i was so afraid to do anything. One night when he had finished i told him " i dont want to do this anymore"(i was 12) He hugged me and said he understood. And it never happened again.
When i was 14 i was having a normal teen argument with my mom when he stepped in and told me if i ever spoke to my mom like that again he was going to break my back. He had been hitting me again and i couldn't handle it anymore. Someone HAD to listen to me and do something. I went to school and at lunch I told my friend of 7 years what he had done to me. She went straight to the principal after lunch and that is when my life went into a spiral.... all of my darkest secrets exposed.
I was a cheerleader and we had a game that night and my mom was to pick me up after when in the middle of the game here comes my stepfather walking in frenzied. I was scared frozen. He told me my mom was really sick and he needed to take her to the hospital and that i needed to leave now. My mom was fine that morning.... On the car ride home i kept thinking that she confronted him ( my friend was telling my mom... i could have never done it) and he killed her. I just kept praying that she was still alive and that he wasn't going to kill me too. When I walked in the door i called her name and she was in the bathroom and called me in.
She told me she had just gotten a call from my friend and asked me if it was true. I told her yes it was true. She told me she was going to have to confront my stepfather. I told her i didn't want her to... to just call the cops and that way we would both be safe. I dint know why but i REALLY thought he would kill us if his secret was exposed. She went to the hospital with him, not agreeing to anything with me. I sat up awake in my room all night long. Laying by my bedroom door afraid to not be close to something. When they got home i was scared she had said something. But no one came in my room....
When he was upstairs (she slept on the couch) i left my room to ask her if she had said anything. She hadn't. So I was finally able to fall asleep. The next day I got home from school and my mom was yelling at me as soon as i stepped in the door. Saying that DYFS has been called bc my friend had told the school. She called him at work and told him he needed to come home bc he was being accused of molesting me. his response was "not this again".
I went down to my friends house, though i was still afraid he was going to kill my mom... Finally my mom calls me to come home- he had went back to work, but would be returning after work... Again I am up all night- afraid he is going to murder me when he gets home. the next morning my mom comes into my room and tells me to go upstairs and confront him basically. She told me to tell him what he did.
So i go upstairs into his bedroom... my mom behind me... and i say " you molested me" He asked me why i was doing this to him. He asked me what he had done to make me hate him and told me i was "going to go to hell for this"
The next few weeks was full of child services questions and more questions. Psychologist visits, internal exams.... He was forced to move out by DYFS... My mom didn't believe me and never pressed charges. This was in Feb... he moved back in in Nov. They didn't have enough evidence and since my mom wouldn't help me they said he could move back in and to just lock my bedroom door.... I would have if he hadn't taken them off when we moved into the house..... when he moved back in everything was weird, but in time i learned to take advantage of the situation, getting anything and everything that i wanted.
No one in my family knew about anything that had happened. my mom had told them that they had a trial separation... about 8 years later in Disney world my cousin was talking about his hard life and why he needed to use drugs.... I had been drinking and it pissed me off to the point of saying "try being molested by your stepfather everyday of your life then tell me how bad you had it". And here i had opened it all back up. It felt good and horribly bad to let my secret out. I was scared for my mom who i had always protected. I just let it out.
Anyway, present time is like 2 years later... my mom didn't talk to me for a while... and no one in my family talked to her for a while. He is not welcome to any family functions. I still feel hopeless sometimes. Like i wish i could go 1 day without remembering that. without blaming myself... even though deep down i know its not my fault... sometimes i cant see that and dont know that i ever will, and it angers me that someone ruined a portion of who i am. That THIS is who i am...
This is how i am trying hard NOT to live... but sometimes i falter...
Deny
Dont trust self or others
Be loyal- you must protect the family... keep secrets...obey... dont fight back
dont have needs
love means being hurt or used
dont ask for help
dont show pain
its your fault
keep control of yourself and everyone around you."
dramatizedent
experienceproject
goRealer
muMs-ography
- muMs
- muMs is an award-winning New York City based Poet and a member of the Labyrinth Theater Company.
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