I was first molested by my father, it started in small barely noticeable ways when I was 9 or 10 Yrs old. By the time I was 14 I started to realize what was going on. I was naive and young.

I thought it was normal even though it was uncomfortable. When I was 14 and in High School was when I began to notice that not everyones family was like mine. I never said anything though. I was scared. I have 3 sisters 1 older and 2 younger. One night that I remember clearly my youngest sister was sleeping with me. That night when my father entered the room. He watched us while he thought I was sleeping. In my mind I would pray hoping he would go away. I could smell the cigarette smoke and he just stood there in the dark. Eventually, I fell asleep waiting for him to leave. Nothing happened that night but I remember that night vividly because I now know why my memories are so vague. I pretended that when he came into the room and sat on my bed that it was a dream, a nightmare like so many I used to have then. Only when I woke with my youngest sister who was only 5 yrs old at the time was looking at the shelf and said "Teli you pume" I knew exactly what she was asking me. She wanted to know if I smoked. I said "no" but I just stared at the ashes left on the shelf at the edge of the bed. I knew it wasn't a dream anymore and now I knew the other dreams weren't dreams either. They were real life nightmares, that I tried to make not real. So I didn't have to deal with it.

I would love to say I was the whistle blower but I wasn't. I tried to protect the rest of my family and wouldn't let them know what was going on. it wasn't until my older sister came home from school really late and we found out she was planning to run away. She took my mother aside as my mother shooed my younger sister and I away. We were in the room, I remember feeling anxious and so did she. I didn't know why she felt that way but I knew I had to tell my mother right then and there. My mother tried to shoo us away again but this time I said "Mami, me too!" and my younger sister echoed "me, too". My mothers face crumbled and she was overwhelmed that all 3 of her daughters were being molested by their father.

I wish I could say that it ends there but I was later sexually assaulted by a 16 yr old boy. I was fortunate because I got away, but I later learned that there were others, he had done the same thing to them. I never said anything to anyone. I didn't want my parents to know I was not at school or that I was with people I shouldn't have been with. I kept my secret but when ever I saw him his face became distorted to me. I swore he was laughing and me saying 'I know what I did to you" I felt paralyzed and numb when I would see him at school.

I kept these to my self for many years. I was afraid that I would be blamed for my sisters, and I would be blamed for being where I wasn't supposed to be. So I kept my secrets to my self.

A woman emailed me the link to this YouTube video and asked me to share it. Please take a few minutes to read her story.

https://youtu.be/PxcL6OEB2zI

Before I spoke my truth I was sinking into the depths of self hatred and feared I would never experience happiness with myself. Speaking my truth has allowed me to move forward, one foot at a time. You are not alone. You deserve love. You deserve happiness. Your voice matters. 

It took me over thirty years to tell my family what happened to me, this is the letter I sent to my family. 

"A life lived in fear... is a life half lived." -Baz Luhrmann

This quote as resinated with me since I first heard it. As far as I can remember, I have lived a life in fear since the age of six and perhaps younger. 

Fear of rejection.
Fear of having a safe place to live.
Fear of being abandoned. 
Fear of not having enough to eat.
Fear of being asked to leave.
Fear of not fitting in.
Fear of failure.
Fear of success.

And Fear of being a woman. 

In twenty five days I turn thirty five. Each birthday I've told myself this year will be better. This year I'll eat better. This year I'll run more. This year I'll be more successful. This year I'll finish that project. Sometimes those "this years" end up being checked off the list and sometimes they get pushed to back only to be looked at twelve months later. 

Last year I checked off a giant mark off my list, to work on me. Not physically, there are only so many marathons I can run, so many miles I can bike, and so many weights I can lift. I worked on my emotional self. 

As you know, I've lived an abnormal life. It's not one I would trade for anything. My experiences are that, mine. They make me who I am. They are the only thing that can't be taken away from me. They are with me good and bad. They make me a better person. They make me loving, loyal, dedicated, and hard working. They make me strong, empowered, and resilient. They make me fearful of myself. 

I've worked hard to not talk about my experiences with people. I hid my life from my friends, my family, and my partner. No one knows the pain, struggle, and sacrifice I've made to survive. Hiding your life from everyone is hard work. It's stressful; it eats away at you. I'm tired of hiding, I need to let go so I can move on with my life. I deserve the freedom, to love fully, to love myself. 

This, members of my family, is why I write to you. On the eve’s of my thirty fifth birthday I need to release my story to you. Take it as you will. My truth is real and has been haunting me for twenty nine years. I'm not expecting any response. I only hope that you will listen. 

At the age of six I was repeatedly raped and molested by people I trusted, (xxxxxxxx) and (xxxxxx). I never reported the abuse, I have kept quiet all these years in fear. In fear that the abuse was my fault. In fear that I wouldn't have a family. In fear I would never be loved, that I was damaged. I almost told you when I was fourteen and (xxxxxx) accused him of abuse. I was elated that I was not the only one and I could finally tell. He made sure to keep me living in fear. He showed up at my house, when I was living in (xxxxxxx) on (xxxxx) Road one evening when I was alone. He brought his girlfriend at the time, and they both sat down on my couch and he told me that nothing happened when I was younger and that I didn't have anything to say to the authorities because no one would ever believe me and even worse the family would disown me forever, the same things he told me over and over after he abused me. Fourteen, alone and scared, I believed him and kept quiet until now. 

The problem with abuse, especially sexual abuse, is that you can never keep quiet. It will continue to come up in your life until you acknowledge it. Hiding from my family so I didn't have to see him, faking being confident and comfortable in my own skin, and focusing all energy on external successes only works for a certain amount of time until a person can't take it anymore. 

I am done living in fear. What they did to me was not my fault. I had no say in the matter. I am not defined by their disgusting actions. The adults in my life did not do their job in protecting me. I was a victim. I was a child. 

It's time for me to move on with my life. I deserve it. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to truly believe I am beautiful. I deserve honest, loving relationships with my friends and family. I deserve a life not lived in fear. 

Thank you for listening. 

In truth and love,
K

I was molested by my uncle for 4 years, starting around the age of 3. He called our time together special time and made me think that love had something to do with it. His bed room was next to mine and just about every night he came into my room to take me to his bedroom. He would have us both get completely naked and lie on the bed next to each other. He would look at me while he touched himself and after years of grooming he started having me go down on him.

It finally came to light while I was in 1st grade and he went to jail for 4 months and now has to register as a sex offender. I’m 34 now and I’m afraid that there are more victims. My family continues to accept him as a vital part of the family so 5 years ago I moved 2500 miles to be away from them. It was the best decision of my life. They can no longer put my needs last.

Submitted December 22, 2017 by Anon

For years, my father molested me. When I was 17 years old, I finally said "no". He then took his pistol and said he had no reason to live anymore. I ran out into the street and wouldn't come in until it was put away. My sister and step-mother both happened to be away at the time which is why he decided to come to my room. I lived in fear from that time until I became estranged from my family that if I ever made him very angry at me he would kill me. I never felt safe until about 7 or 8 years ago when I discovered he had died. The estrangement meant I was left out of the obituary as one of the surviving children.

My sexual harassment story was at work when one of member of a different section of the department decided he would use the hem of my skirt to clean his glasses. This was at a time when there was no sexual harassment training done for employees, but people who witnessed it were upset and went to his boss and he was made to apologize to me and he was written up.  

It is because of these 2 situations that I don't really like being touched unnecessarily. I realize that for most people and for most situations this is done innocently. For me it makes me flinch. I also don't touch people even in comfort unless I know that really well.

Submitted December 21, 2017 by Anon