My father was a molester. My very earliest memory is of being raped. I was probably only two years old. When I was 5 he put a gun to my head and said that if I ever told anyone he would kill my grandparents and make me watch. He knew that they were my favorite people in the whole world, so that's why he said that. He knew it would keep my mouth shut.
When I was ten years old my periods started. I was terrified that I
would wind up pregnant. I remember there being a news story about a 10
year old having a baby after being raped. It was really big news at the
time, so I was scared out of my mind.
I had made a really good friend at school. We moved a lot, so I
never really had friends before, but this girl was different. Sarah was
so kind and warm and genuine. I was actually allowed to go to a
sleepover at her house. I had never been allowed to do that before. Life
in her house was so different than anything I had ever known. When they
took me home her dad seemed agitated and nervous. I thought he didn't
like me and couldn't wait to get rid of me. It turns out he had a bad
feeling and didn't want to let me out of their car. He told Sarah that
he felt like something bad was going to happen to me. Of course I didn't
know that until this Spring, twenty years after the fact.
I finally worked up the courage to tell Sarah my big secret. She
convinced me to tell our teacher. So we got excused from gym class to go
talk to the teacher. She stood right there holding my hand for support.
Then all Hell broke loose. They made me tell the story to the principal
and a social worker and a police officer. THEN they sent me home on the
school bus! They had called me mom to prepare her and called my dad at
work to tell him to bring us to the police station.
My mom immediately started blaming me. It was all my fault. She told
the cops and social worker that I asked for it. I pranced around in
little nighties and panties. Well, she was the one who bought my
clothes, I wore what she gave me. They whisked me away to a foster home
that night. I was there for six months until he was in prison.
After that it took years to trust my mother again. I still don't
completely trust her. She only talks to me when she wants something. She
always babied my brother, but treated me like dirt. It used to hurt a
lot, but I'm over it now.
My grandma, the one he threatened to kill, is his mother. We were
always close, the only time I was safe was when I was at her house. She
and my Pappy were wonderful. Pappy passed away when I was 15. Grandma is
still alive and kicking though. Somehow she has convinced herself that
it was all just a "misunderstanding." She keeps trying to get me to
visit her when he's there. She's even lied about his being there. Now
that I have a daughter she tries even harder. I sent her pictures of the
baby and specifically told her not to give him any. She sent them all
to him and then asked me for more. I was very upset about that. I'm sure
it's because she doesn't want to believe that she raised a monster. But
this is my child and he will NEVER see her.
I don't regret this choice at all. Children are supposed to be loved and protected, not abused.