I started getting sexually abused from a really young age. The first time was by my “granny’s” husband. He molested me around the age of kindergarten. I think they where only related to my birth father by marriage. But my mom stayed away from them for the most not long after because apparently he tried to pin her in corner or something. I never told her about that situation until was in my teens.

Soon after my mom had left her boyfriend she was with who was really physically abusive to her. She ended up dating this guy. They dated for a short period of time and they got married. Less than a year together he had became abusive.

One day, I think my mom was at work, and me, my two siblings, and “S” was home (we will just call him that) and we where watching the butterfly affect. He called me to sit with him on the recliner and I did and he covered me up with the blanket he was covering up with and that was the first time he molested me.

We moved to another town, and I remember this one time me and my brother where up, I was around second or third grade age, and the play station 2 was new and they got one. S had gotten really far on this game and my brother accidentally restarted the game (he is a year younger than me) S woke up and found out and sent us to the room because my brother never said he did it. S came in with a belt and started swinging it at us. I had bruises up and down my leg from that incident.

S’ uncle grew “close” to me. Only for it to be the same thing. He never physically abused me or verbally really. Just sexually. And I’m pretty sure S knew about it, but it was more of a competition with him, like he felt jealous instead of upset that someone was doing this to his step daughter.

We moved again, and there was this man, “T”. He was probably in his fifties. And I was in the third grade. Me and my siblings and his grandkids all played together. Sorta. Sometimes just bullies. But one day I was over at his house and my mom called me from the yard because it was bath time and I started to go and he told me to go see him and I did. And he took my hand and put it on his “private area” on the outside of his pants. I left right afterward. I remember going take a bath and crying and just thinking it’s not him, it’s the devil, why else would every man try to hurt me. I never told my mom until I was teen about that either. We moved shortly afterwards because I think he had made a pass at my mom.

While we lived there he had done it to my sister to, who is two years younger than me. And I blame myself for it because he had me get her involved in the situation. I feel like he used her trust towards me for him to get what he wanted. Regardless, if that is why, I still blame myself.

My mom was a truck driver and he didn’t work. That’s usually when the sexual abuse took place.

Over the years we where mentally and physically abused. He would call me fat, ugly, worthless, tell me no one would ever want me. He said something one time and I got mad and threw a hot wheels at the wall and it bounced and hit him in the head. I didn’t mean to, but he got up and grabbed me by my throat and slammed me against he wall. We’ve seen him try to choke my mom on different occasions. It physically hurt us all really, but anybody outside our house, like his family or the neighbor took his side.

S’ brother’s daughter told me that S’ uncle had done stuff to her. She was older than me. It eventually came out what he had done to me. Her and her sisters asked me about it later and recorded it with their phone with the voice record. We left and got a phone call soon after. Apparently they had shown someone who called my parents about it. He went to jail when I was ten. He pleaded guilty and they charged him with indecent behavior with a juvenile.

My mom blamed her self. She started drinking a lot.

Three years later it finally came out what S had been doing. My mom called my grandparents to come get us and we moved that night. S denied it to my mom and said if he left, would should not call the cops. Which was unusual because any other time my grandpa came to get us before (because my mom was “leave” him for how he treated us and we would be right back there again with in a day, or even the same night once) he would threaten and say he would do this and that if they stepped in our yard. He left right before my grandpa and uncle got there.

He went to jail. For a short period of time we had s new lawyer step in and she said we need to go to every parish(county) we lived in that he done this and file. So we did. In 2015 he got attempted indecent behavior with a juvenile, twelve years in jail. He’s been there since late 2011.

I went to several different therapists afterwards. They said I had severe depression, anxiety, and ptsd. It was then that I finally told my mom about my “granny’s” husband and “T”. I felt like I couldn’t tell anybody. Because who would believe me. Who would believe that this has happened so many times. Nobody. So I just kept it to my self. My mom believed me once I finally told her. (Btw she is six years sober this year, she no longer drink for anyone who wondered)

So this is the year S’ uncle gets out. And today is the day S goes to court for the second parish.

I’m petrified. I don’t want to go to court and have to tell this again. I don’t want to see him. Last court case, I had medical photos that showed what had happened and a doctor who spoke about it. I don’t have that to prove what happened when I was five. I’m scared they won’t believe me. I’m beyond scared. I prayed for strength over this but I’m just so scared.

It’s been seven years that this ended and I haven’t been able to move on because court keeps coming around hanging over my head.

Ive really struggled with self confidence after this whole situation. I’ve told my previous boyfriends what happened, still got cheated on and it really made me feel fat and ugly.

I’m now twenty years old. I’m engaged to an amazing man and pregnant with our daughter. He makes me so happy. He listens when I need to talk about it and he supports me. I’m blessed to have him. But I worry so much about losing him. I don’t know if my anxiety is what causes me to worry so much. Cancer runs in his family, and it’s like my biggest fear that he’s gonna get something and we will lose him. I’ve always worried since I was a little girl about losing someone. It was always my mom went she was truck driving. Now it’s him. I pray over this as well.

I know I probably sound like a crazy person. But today is just hard. I cried so hard this morning and guess just needed to vent.