Warning, this is a long story!
Im 28 years old and am just now starting to deal with my past traumas. My counselor suggested that I try to share some of my story anonymously, I have never done this before but i am willing to try so here goes nothing.
I was three years old when my aunts husband at the time touched me, I don’t remember the actual act it’s self but I remember a time that I was led into his room where my two cousins where bawling their eyes out curled up in his bed and then it goes blank, I also remember him changing my clothes another time. I remember telling my aunt, I remember going to the Dr to check things out but nothing could be proven. He did end up in prison for the rape of my two cousins so at least there is that. Unfortunately I have family members who would not stop talking about it and were always asking me uncomfortable questions that I hated and they talked about my cousins in a way that my child mind comprehend as there was something wrong with them now that this had happened. I never wanted to be seen in that light. When I was six my brother, almost 2 years older, came to me and wanted to see what I looked like “down there” and show himself to me. It started as just a general curiosity kind of thing that I’ve been told is normal but then it got twisted. I was laying on my bed and he was standing in front of me when he pulled his thing out and asked me to put it in my mouth. I said no that’s gross, he said adults do it all the time. I told him I didn’t want to and then he told me that if I didn’t do it he would tell that I had showed myself to him and that I would get in so much trouble, at six I believed that so I did it. As long as I live I will never forget the feeling I got the moment it went into my mouth. Like part of me left my body, it literally felt like something died inside of me, it wasn’t until therapy here recently that I realized what it was. It was my voice, that was the moment my voice died and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get out of this and that he would always have that power over me. Plus now telling would mean the whole family talking about it like before and I couldn’t bare people knowing that there is now something was wrong with me. A year or so later he had me to play a game with him where we built a blanket fort and I had to lay on the floor on one side of the bed and he laid on the floor on the other side. He would say okay ready go and I was to jump up and crawl across the bed and look at what ever body part he was showing me (usually his penis) when I didn’t want to he again threatened to tell so I did. Then it was my turn to show him my “body parts” I tried to just show like a leg or my belly but he got mad and wanted to see “there”, once again he threatened me and I did it. Around 9 or 10 we were left home alone and he asked if I knew what fingering meant. I said no and he processed to tell me about it and asked if he could do it to me. I told him no but he kept pushing about it and begging and we went back and forth until he said can I just rub “it” then? I was extremely uncomfortable and felt trapped and rubbing versus a finger actually going inside of me seemed like the lesser of two evils so I said okay and he put his hands in my pants and rubbed me for what felt like forever. When I was 10 or 11 he started showing me porn, he would tell me what all the different sex terms meant like 69, going down on someone or what a blow job and hand job were. Then he wanted me to blow him, of course I did not want to but again I was over powered and it happened. He then went down on me. I LEFT MY BODY! I went completely somewhere else. I remember my body shaking badly and feeling so dirty. I wanted out of this so bad but I felt like it was my fault and that I caused it and I would be in so much trouble if anyone knew. There was another time when I was 11 or 12 that he got one of my (male) cousins involved, we had all stayed up one night to watch a movie and when my mom when to bed he started joking about sex and told us that he could do tricks with his penis, he then pulled it out and showed us the tricks, I didn’t really know what to say or do and was completely mortified that my cousin was there too. Then he started telling my cousin that I let him touch me and that I would show him (my cousin) myself and let him touch me. THE WHOLE THING WAS AWFUL AND I DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO. He had me take my pants off and stand up in front of them with my back facing them and bend over so they could see me. After that they took turns touching me. I thought that maybe my cousin had just got caught up in something bad like I did and that he really didn’t want to or know what to do about it which made me feel like I was his abuser so I told myself it wasn’t his fault it was mine. Until, a few years later at 14 I fell asleep on my aunts couch and woke up to the painful feeling of that same cousin fondling me. He also had a flash light that he was shining down there so he could see. I was frozen and could not say anything, I could not even move. He was rough and I could feel the scratching of his fingernails inside of me I pretended to be asleep at first until he really hurt me and I sat up quickly letting him know. I can’t really remember how that one ended. He was a complete jerk to me after that and all the next day like it was somehow my fault, like I wanted him to do that. A few months later he tried to do it again in a swimming pool under the water but this time I just got out. Again he was a jerk to me afterwards. To this day long fingernails on men are a trigger for me. Growing up I always felt different and ashamed. I felt trapped and unable to fight for my self at all. I never told a single soul about the abuse because I really did feel like it was all my fault and that I was a sick person. I was a very quiet and shy child and never did anything to get in trouble, hell I never even got a spanking when I was a kid. The thought of this secret getting out scared me so bad. When I was 12 I started staying away from home and family memebers as much as possible as a way to protect my self. This has affected me in the way that I handle any regular relationships and all sexual relationships. I dont like anyone in my personal space or touching me in anyway, even if it is just to fix the tag on the back of my shirt it freaks me out and hugging people is super awkward for me, I’d much rather give a fist bump. I was not promiscuous at all in my teens or young adult hood but there were other situations that i could not stand my ground and I was taken advantage of because I had no voice. I felt like I could not say no and I shut down as soon as the abuser showed any frustration with me. I just froze. I buried all the memories and feeling so deep that I thought I had forgotten them until my husband and I went through a hard time that brought the memories to surface. Now everything was out and this time I couldn’t just stuff it back in. That didn’t work anymore. So I got myself a counselor and started working through it all. It’s been a hard road so far but I have made a lot of progress. Somethings are still hard to share but I am hoping I get there someday. I’m also hoping to one day me able to tell my husband my story.
What happened to my brother? As it turns out he was being abused also. No that does not make it okay and no I am Not taking up for him nor am I trying to protect him. But, one thing I have leaned so far is that when a child suffers sexual abuse they often act on other children as a coping mechanism. He brought it up to me years later in a awkward apologetic way but I know he meant it. While it may seem crazy to others I have been able to forgive him.