I know I’ve said in previous “My Story” posts that I have dealt with bullying, as well as addictions in the past. However one thing that many do not know is, I’m also in a certain 20% of the female population. Despite that, I refuse to be seen as either a statistic or as a victim. I WAS a victim, but currently, I believe I am an overcomer.
Now, to delve a little deeper into my childhood.
I was six years old when it first happened. I was on my own in my clubhouse in my grandparents backyard. My cousin came up to join me, at the time, he and I were really close. That was when the first incident occurred, the time I was first molested. It didn’t really affect me that much at the time, because I didn’t understand what happened. There were several incidents over the years, but it stopped when he turned eighteen (18). It had gone on for about three and a half years. Now I’m almost an adult, I won’t say I’ve forgiven him, I won’t say that I’ve moved on, and I won’t say that I am OK. There are feelings that one can only understand by going through that.
In the rest of this post, I will attempt to describe my journey. What had happened didn’t really sink in right away, actually I didn’t understand all of it until I was in highschool. I guess that it may have been a measure of self-preservation. Once it did hit, it was much much harder to deal with, along with understanding what happened, came all of the emotions. It had taken me about eleven years to be able to tell someone about it.
The couple years after I understood what happened I spent trying to forget. I was having one of the hardest battles with myself that I had ever dealt with. Even with the years of bullying. It’s one thing to be bullied and to be treated like you are worthless by someone you aren’t related to, it is so much harder to cope after having someone that you are related to, and whom you trusted treat you like that. What my cousin did bears no physical scars, but the emotional scars are there forever. He fractured my self-esteem, killed my trust; even among family, above all that, he caused me to question myself.
After all that, I was always wondering; wondering if I was only worth a good time, that someone could easily just put a price on me. Wondering if I was even worth love at all. To this day I still wonder about that, wondering why anyone could love, or even deal with a broken, scared girl like me.
By the time I had told my family about it, that made it harder. Even though over the years I was able to contain my thoughts, and hide it for so long, once it was out in the open I found it much harder to control my anger, distrust and hurt toward him. The majority of my family at the time didn’t, and some still don’t, understand that it will take a while, even longer than I have already dealt with it to be able to forgive him. Now that everyone knows, it seems like they expect me to just move on, that is easier said than done.
My story isn’t out here because I want people to feel sorry for me, it’s not there so I can get attention, It’s here for people to see that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I will be OK, I will eventually move on, I will eventually forgive him. I will NOT however forget. There are days that I won’t think about it, that it doesn’t bother me and that I almost don’t remember it. Then there are days that it haunts me, those nights where I can’t think of anything else, where all I can do is remember the many days I spent having fun, worry-free.
I will say one thing, that the saying “ignorance is bliss” is true.
Signed,
Anonymous
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