I'm 44 and this is part of my story. A year ago I finally sought legitimate mental health care to unpack 39 years worth of trauma. Not just one trauma but a lifetime of them. Some I created myself due to choices I made because of earlier trauma I experienced. I refuse to carry the label of victim and, instead, choose sexual assault survivor, neglect survivor, abuse survivor, and fucking mental health advocate.
When I was 5, my sister, Katie, was stillborn. I lost my sister but for a long time, I lost my parents too. For 5 years I was the center of their universe and suddenly, they just weren't there. I don't remember a lot about what happened that day. I don't remember my dad coming to Grandma's to tell me my sister was dead. I don't remember Grandma calling Grandpa to come home from the golf course. I don't remember them taking me to the hospital to see my mom. I do remember my mom. I remember how sad she was, how sad everyone was. This is the first memory I have of wanting to "fix" people. I wanted them all to be happy. So I started to dance. I started to put on a show to make others smile. I was shushed. I was put in a corner and told "not now." Now didn't come for a long time. I spent much of my time with my Dad's parents. Truth be told, there wasn't a better place in the world. But they weren't my parents. When my parents got pregnant with my brother, the spotlight didn't shine back on me. I still spent most of my time with my grandparents. When I was with my parents, I was outside playing with friends. This was way back in the early 80s when you could go outside, be gone all day, and nobody worried. I had one friend that was a few years older. This is when the molestation began. I struggle hard with this because I know the impact this had on me. Someone had to have done it to her, too. It must have continued to happen to her because it continued to happen to me with progression that ended in forced oral sex when I was 9. After that, she moved away and it, thankfully stopped, but the damage was done and sexual attention was already embedded in my psyche. Which is how I was groomed by a much older neighborhood "boy" and starting having sex in seventh grade. I was 12. He was popular, gorgeous, and a fucking predator. I didn't recognize what was happening at the time as "rape" because I wasn't forced. However, that's exactly what it was. I wasn't old enough to consent. I continued having sex with him well past him becoming a legal adult and me being under 16. It was all rape. I began having sex with other "men" around the age of 14.
I'll keep updating. I can only write so much at a time because it's hard but this is just the early years - the beginning.
