This post is part of our True Life series where OKC moms are sharing real trials & tribulations they have gone through as mothers, as wives, and as women.
I was nine, and they were sixteen.
My step-brother and his best friend took me into a room to play a game. My step-brother told me to get into the twin bed with him and his friend would get in the other twin bed on the other side of the room.
I was still innocent.
Nothing in my brain could have understood what was to come next.
As he pulled the covers over me he kept saying, “you are so beautiful, when you get older, guys will kill for you.” Then everything in my nine-year-old little world was shattered.
He began kissing me and slowly sticking his tongue into my mouth. He started breathing deep and rubbing all over me.
I was terrified.
I’m shaking just writing this and remembering how scared and little I was.
He was breathing, and kissing all over my face and then began to run his fingers around the outside of my underwear. Everything inside of me screamed. I jumped up, told him I had to use the restroom, and I ran…with everything in me I ran, screaming and crying down a residential street.
I vividly remember bawling as I ran by two kids playing basketball in their driveway. They just stopped and stared, so I kept running.
I eventually ran into a large building that was a senior living center where I told them what had just happened. They immediately called the police, who then called my mom, dad, and step-mom.
My dad and step-mom got to me first. I was sitting in the front office that had a glass barrier so I saw them walk in. A police man proceeded to tell them what had happened.
My step-mom lost her mind. She was incredibly upset and then in a very calm, passive-aggressive way, she told the police officer that I was a very creative girl who often told elaborate stories to get attention.
I was heart broken.
Yeah, I told some lies here and there. But never involving anything this serious in nature. I still to this day wonder how different my life would have been if I didn’t run.
By walking into that retirement home and telling the truth, I have had constant guilt that I destroyed my family. Nothing was ever the same again.
Everybody other than my big sister and mother just went along as if nothing had ever happened. My step-brother adamantly denied that anything happened.
At nine, I was questioning things that no nine-year-old should ever have to question.
Ultimately my father stayed loyal to my step-mom, which to me, meant he was choosing my step-brother’s side.
Being betrayed by my father after everything was by far the deepest scar.
When my mom came in to the retirement center, I just lost it. She carried me to the car, ran her fingers through my hair the whole way home, and took me straight to her bed so I could sleep with her.
I cried the whole night. Why did he do this? And why did I feel so awful for telling?
I did not feel like a victim – I felt like a villain.
It is really hard to explain, but it’s almost as if everyone was disappointed in me for telling on him. Except my mom of course, who was amazing.
The next weekend that I was supposed to stay with my dad, he told us that my step-brother would not be there. When I got out of the car I could hear whispering and I felt it in my gut even before I saw him.
He was there.
My dad could and never will be able to explain why he did this to me.
I had to walk right past him. I went to a bedroom with a lock, called my mom, and refused to come out until I heard her voice. The devastation this caused my family is mind-blowing and we all suffered in one way or another after that day.
My siblings lost relationships with our dad due to my mom taking visitation away; my step-mother forever hated and resented all of us after that day. I had resentment and anger towards my siblings who chose to remain friends with my step-brother – my real brother was the best man in his wedding.
The problem with it being a family member is they do not just go away. He was forever in my life and it was a constant struggle and pure mental hell many of times.
It has taken me many years. But I am finally at a place where I DO completely understand that it was HIS decision to make and my telling was a reaction.
I did not ruin my family – HE DID.
I have learned to forgive him. But I will never forget, nor will I ever be quiet about it again. In fact, I would honestly love the opportunity to ask him now that we are so much older why he chose to do that to me, and also lie about it for 30 years?
As a mother of daughters, I will do everything in my power to teach them how to protect themselves and to always trust their initial instincts. If the situation feels wrong – it most likely is.
I want them to know they can always come to me and count on me to do the right thing, which is protect and nurture those sweet souls as long as I possibly can. They need to know would NEVER question them or make them feel like they are over-reacting.
I hope for all women who have been sexually abused to know they are not in the wrong. Whoever chose to violate that precious barrier with you is the one who deserves all of the blame.