I was 5 years old..


The first time my ex step dad molested me. In a sense, I feel lucky that my brain blocked out the actions. It went on until my mom divorced him and we moved out. I was 11. For 6 years, he took advantage of me. I can’t tell you how many times. What I can tell you, is that he used my fear of monsters under the bed & kidnappers coming to get me as his way in.

I would always ask my mom to come check on me at night to make sure I was still safe and in bed. I’ve been a worrier my entire life. Sometimes, instead of my mom coming in, it would be him. He would come in with a flashlight and that’s when I would disconnect and where I lose memories. I only remember, once, fighting to keep my legs closed.

I would sleep all the way in the top corner of my bed against the wall, barricaded with stuffed animals. I guess in a child’s brain, maybe that would stop someone. Maybe he would take a hint. He didn’t. The only time I was guaranteed to be safe was if I slept at a friends house or had a friend sleep over.

He never threatened me. He never said anything. I only said something one time to a family member (not my mother). It was the one and only time I remember fighting to keep my legs together. That family member told me I must’ve just been having a bad dream.

I still wonder if I decided to think of it as a bad dream, every time. I didn’t understand what was happening at that age. What 5 year old would? By the time I was old enough to realize that what was happening was wrong, I feared telling my mom. I didn’t think she wouldn’t believe me or that she would be mad at me. I was worried that she would kill him and go to jail. I didn’t want to lose her or make her cry.

When we moved, I told my new best friend. That friend told my mom. Even then, I lied. Until she made me swear on her life, I lied. Once it was out there, I wrote what I could, in as much detail as I could for her. She wanted to make sure I had a written testimony if I decided to take it to the police. I didn’t. I was too scared to see him again.

The longer I waited & debated talking to the police, the worse the situation became. He told my mom that I was lying & I was just upset about the divorce. He told his whole family that I was lying and they all believed him. They thought I was a child, acting out. My whole family (on his side, that had been my family since I was 5) accused me of making it up.

It didn’t have any major effects on my life other than my constant anxiety and fear of abandonment. The abandonment issues come from that family that so easily wrote me off as if I never existed. I can’t go to the beach anymore or drink jones soda or hear Creed on the radio without thinking about it. I’m 31 now and things are slowly creeping up. I am beginning to struggle with my confidence and my sex life is suffering. I don’t like to be touched without clothing on. I don’t mind having sex, but I don’t like anything else. I can’t help but conclude that this is due to being touched as a child.

This is not a politically driven post. I wrote this because it feels good to talk about it. There are other women who’ve been in similar situations and I want you to know, I’m here for you.