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Oct 18

Anonymous Story: “Me, too”

So I’ve been off the internet for a few short days actually feels like weeks because when im on the internet I’m usually siting in one place and after a while two or three hours roll by and you’re thinking was I really on the phone for that long. Okay I don’t know how that related but just bare with me or pretend like I didn’t really mean what I say, okay there it goes again. So before I start rambaling  into these run on sentences let me get to the point of this article. Okay point one I saw a few stories after getting back on the internet with headings, hash tags, and even just a simple post with the words of “me too”. And im guessing everyone knew it was based on the rape culture. I was the lost for about 15 minutes. At first I wasn’t really sure so what I do best is search google for everything sometimes it leads me to a deep dark whole already dug about 30 feet below so I am not happy about that one. So after i put in google search “me too” many celebrity stories came up from rape to being molested.

So I became inspired and realized I needed to go back to my happy place thank you [L] you rock, so why not start from my personal story on rape culture. So here it is are you guys ready because right about now my stomach is making a lion gwah and my eyes are half way open but that might be because I’ve been wearing contacts that are passed it’s due date or whatever that meant anyways. Okay so I am ready now, get march get set, go.

When I was about I’ll say ten years old my mom used to have to work long shifts or whatever she was doing for hours knowing my mother probably hustling trying to get someone to buy the socks she already wore three times and they would still buy it. Yeah she had a way words when it came to this hustling shit. Anyways she use to leave us at our grandmother house still didn’t understand how she was related to us supposedly she was our grandmother on my mother adoptive father side brother’s cousin sister I don’t really know but I do remember her house smelling like old vagina mixed with 4040’s beer and salten’s crackers. Her floors were so dusty and she was also a hoarder she kept everything probably since her first kiss to the panties she wore for her first fuck. But what I loved the most was her steamed cabbage and her open window in the kitchen all she would do is sit in her corner and talk so much shit and her laugh was like a tickle to an itching throat. Filled with bacteria, love, and old school laughter. She reminded me of a character in Raisin in the Sun stilling trying to figure out which one, bare with me guy haven’t had dinner yet. I actually grew to love that house and that old vagina smell I still miss it to this day and when I smell at least a hint of it I know her spirit is close by with a few open 40’s and salten crackers. Anyway this story isn’t about her.

It was a hot summer day my sister and I were over her house I’m gonna guess it was a weekend because we were sleeping with her alongside her bed. I guess we were making too much noise to my sisters snoring and my movements I make every 5 minutes annoyed her. So we went into the other room I remember going into the bath room taking a bath with my sister I guess I remember because of the stink ass cat litter. There was a knock on the door it was [S] her grandson I am going to guess he was 18 I never really liked him because he wouldn’t say anything to us just stare and leave the house and won’t be back for at least another four days. This day he came back and my grandmother was still sleeping or I don’t really remember maybe she was by that damn window. Me and my sister was in the middle room when he came in and shut the door everything is pretty much a blur. I remember him grabbing my sister and starting licking her private part and knowing my sister she was the biggest cry baby and you could hear her from three blocks away I am not kidding. I think my mother dropped her a few times. Like I said everything is pretty much a blur I just remember after, she was crying out the window so much tear hollering but no one heard her. Then [S] pulled me to the floor mattress and began licking my private parts and started touching me inappropriately. I then I remember blood everywhere on the mattress.

It was until two hours passed we out of the room and ran to my grandmother. We tried telling her what he did to us but she kept saying not my [S] not my [S] he would never do that. So when my mother arrived I decided that I was going to tell her but keep out the details but that he was just touching us I don’t truly remember her reaction that day. But I do remember her not doing anything at all, she didn’t fight for me, I knew deep down inside she did believe me but I couldn’t understand why would a mother want us to stay quiet about it. My mother has some horror stories of her own. We even went back over there a few times more and continued to see their extended family members.

So like I did with most things growing up I brushep it under the rug never spoke about it unless you were a really close friend I held it inside for 5 years. And during that between those years my mother left us at another person’s house one of her close friends boyfriend touched me to while I was sleep. I kinda just got use to men touching me anyway and being afraid of men. And later I fell right into the pussy. LOL true story.

Rape culture is heavy in African American house holds at least of my girl friends have stories about their fathers brothers uncle friends. I didn’t forgive my mom until I was in my twenties and I couldn’t love or make love to anyone until I told my story. Not until my step father stepped and snatched every itch of men trying to think they could stuff me ever guns on tack and beat downs in catch. But yes my name is Quanah and I was a victim of rape and being molested but it’s just a story and I am strong today to be able to tell my story for anyone who could relate or just wants to know or even tell their hidden stories so here it is. What is your story. Thank you I don’t really want to write anymore so I hope you guys enjoy and thank you again. But don’t forget I would cut up a nigga quick!

About the author

WYR

When You’re Ready.org is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories.

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