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.