Yes and No are the opposite of one another. In fact, it is impossible to get them confused. So when it come's to being raped, how is it that anyone is "asking for it" or is just "playing hard to get"? And why is it that society seems to focus more on the victims "faults" instead of the very obvious cause of the crime, which is the rapist? Why is it suddenly funny to make rape jokes? Can anyone tell me what is so funny about someone scaring another person for life?
I was only a child when it happened to me. My uncle had to watch my brothers and I sometimes while my mom worked because our biological father couldn't manage jail and a job at the same time. I was 4 and 5. Or at least, that's as far back as I can remember. Honestly, I didn't really have the chance to say no. Being so young and naive, I thought what was happening to me was normal. I didn't have a clue that I was being molested and raped. I remember not liking it and that it hurt. I remember saying no and him trying to bribe me with fruit snacks to do sexual things to him. He would let me watch porn with him too.
It wasn't until I was 9, in 4th grade, that I realized what had happened to me. We had to watch a video about what to do if a sexual predator approached us and stranger danger. Although my life was pretty broken at that point anyways, I remember watching that video and the floor shattering from beneath me. How could I not have known? I started having waves of depression and anxiety. I didn't trust people the way I used to. It was like my childhood ended that day. Everything was suddenly more real than I could bare. I was scared of people touching me and I was scared to tell anyone what had happened to me. Who would believe me now? When I was five my mother got married to my step dad and we moved towns and it never happened again. I had no proof and I had no hope. The hardest part was seeing him at the family events and knowing what happened. As a child I didn't think anyone would believe me over an adult. I felt gross all the time. Like somehow I was worth less because of what happened to me. How could I have let that happen? I would ask myself.
As I got older I became more inverted, especially when it came to attention from guys. If a guy would holler at me or whistle I would cuss them out in a heart beat. If someone would touch me, even if on accident, my heart would skip a beat in fear. In 7th grade I started carrying a knife around with me whenever I left my house. I told myself I would never let it happen again without a fight. I started hurting myself. Carving things into my skin just enough to leave a scar. I would slap myself repeatedly if I every started crying over it until my face would swell slightly. I became numb, removing emotion from me entirely. Physical pain was so much easier to deal with than emotional. I wanted nothing more than to hide myself from the world and be reduced to dust because that's what I felt like. I began looking for love in all the wrong places. I didn't love myself so I guess I needed someone else to love me instead. If it weren't for my religious views, which I broke many times, I probably would have ended up pregnant long before I had my son. But although I was looking for love, I denied myself of love. My husband asked me to marry him countless times before I said yes because I was scared to let him in. It's a lot easier to be betrayed by someone if you don't truly love them.
It wasn't until I was 16 that I told my mom what happened and who it was. I hadn't wanted to tell her because it was her brother and I didn't want to ruin my family. He denied it, of course, and moved out of state for a while. I'm still not sure who all believes me and who all doesn't. My uncle is quite the manipulative individual. Even after I let my family know I felt guilty for the additional strain on my family. Especially his kids and even for my uncle himself. Looking back on my life, I can't think of a single part of it that wasn't affected by what he did to me. But that was when I finally started healing instead of avoiding what had happened.
To those that have been a victim of sexual abuse, please, speak up. 1 in 4 women and 1 in 6 men in the U.S. will suffer from this at some point in their life and 80% of rapist go unreported. Speaking out is the only way to change this. Find help if you need it. Even I saw a counselor for a while and it's nothing to be ashamed of. Forgiving my uncle was easy for me. Forgiving myself was hard because I didn't realize I had nothing to forgive myself for until recently. And I hope you never fill your mind with revenge. It's ok to want justice, but revenge and justice are not the same. I hope instead of wishing them pain you wish them change. I wish my uncle change so he can become better than he was. He will have to live with what he's done until he dies and then some. Don't just sit buy while your friends make rape jokes. If you're one of those people, stop now. You will never know how many painful memories you can bring back with these "jokes". I promise there's nothing funny about sexual abuse in any degree.
So this is my story. I hope you can find the strength to tell yours too. You're already strong because you're already a survivor.
No comments:
Post a Comment