My Experience with Molestation and Rape

It took me ten years to tell my family I was molested then raped.  Why did it take so long?  Well I really didn’t think they would care.  They were very neglectful and I always felt I was more of a burden then a gift.  Also my abuser was not a stranger.  My first cousin was my first sexual experience.  It started with touching.  We would be on the living room couch watching T.V. My cousin and I with a blanket over us, nothing there was nothing unusual about that.  He touched my body in a UN family manner.  Others were in the room and I didn’t know what to do.  He would take the opportunity for full penetration in the basement of the family summer home.  I screamed in pain with my virginity being taken against my will. My only knowledge was what I saw on after school specials. Those special never mentioned what to do in a complicated family situation.  How to speak up at 13 when your 25 year old cousin is doing things to you?  How do I open my mouth to a family that felt children are seen not heard?  How do I tell my grandmother who is raising me that her other grandchild was hurting me?

It took ten years. Yes I was about 23 when I screamed at my mother I was raped.  It happened right under her nose. I told her this information to hurt her.  It happened during one of our many arguments of how she raised me.  My grandmother raised me.  Even with this I still love my mother.  During my formative years she was more into drugs and her friends. The selective memory my mom amazes me. I had to put the nail in the coffin and I screamed in a moment of anger “I was raped and you let it happen”.  It did exactly what I wanted it to do. She broke down and cried.  I felt bad but wanted her to feel pain at the same time.

I told my father and he said “What do you want me to do now”. I guess that would have driven me over the edge at one point in my life. The disappointment I have in my parents no longer makes me emotional.  You have to take a test to drive but not to have children.  I was born into a family that I finally can say did the best they could, which in my opinion was not much.

Despite my parents I did well.  I graduated from college I have a decent career and a home.  I refused to go to college graduation out of spite.  I felt my parents did nothing to ensure my success.  I was not going to allow them to praise me on all the work I did alone.  I left that college and got my diploma in the mail.

I cannot rewind the clock and change the circumstances of my life.  I have no idea how many of my decisions were changed by being raped. I know the rest of my teenage years I was beyond promiscuous.  I was looking for love in any way possible.  I would use my body for kind words of being wanted.  Depression engulfed my life. I was told by a therapist I wasn’t depressed enough to go on drugs.  I told him thank you but what the hell am I supposed to do.  I come to the conclusion therapy was not going to do shit for me. So I continue in life.  Not able to retain a relationship.  I have no idea if that has to do with my sexual assault or my family made me who I am.  A woman who believes no one will truly be there for me.  Working on my issues can be trying because the feeling that no one understands my life.  The most relief I have gotten is talking to other victims.  Their innocence was ripped away with no recourse.   At time I feel my family still doesn’t get it or care.  Some seem insensitive to my circumstances and feel I should mend ways with him.  Or they bring his name up like I care what is going on in his life.  He took something from me.  It can never be excused or can be given back.  I will never know the true affect this has played on my life.


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