Child Abuse Story From Gabriela1

by Gabriela
(USA)

Frightened in Florida: 
I have lived in fear practically my entire life. the farthest I can remember is when i was about four when my dad would chase me with a belt and when he finally got me... Lets just say I had to miss school for "a cold". When I was seven I got pneumonia. At the hospital all the nurses helped take care of me and said that i was the sweetest little thing ever. Yeah, right. My mom didnt hit me back then as much as she does now but she has and always compares me to my little sister. If I do anything as little or insignificant as take a cracker before dinner she will tell on me. Then my mom comes at me with whatever she finds apropriate for my "crime". My little sister will watch me get punched, pushed, slapped, choked, scratched, hit with "whatever", and worse of all she yells at me calling me a slut and what did she do to deserve a daughter like me. I have scars on my body that I know will not heal, but they are nothing to me. All I care about is the emotional scars that she has beared upon me. My parents are divorced but that doesnt mean that I am free of two different hands comming at me... My little sister has taken up hitting me too. When I argued about it at first my mom didnt beleive me but oneday she walked on me being hit and pushed by my sister. (I am so nice... That even after all that I never even tried to defend myself. Me hitting my baby sister. NEVER) She didnt do anything about it. I told her that I didnt try to hit her but if I had to that can I please have her permission to deffend myself. She grabbed me by the throaght and hissed at me "listen if I EVER catch you doing anything to your sister I will call the police and you will be arrested". I argued that how come she gets to hit me and she said that she had enough but I persisted. She took one of her thinnest stilletos from the closet and hit me continuosly with it. I now have a seven inch long thin scar on my left arm. The one day I stood up to her and told her that I would tell she kneed me in the stommach and punched my privates (i am a girl) she asked me if I had the "pussy" to tell and by that time I was crying but I managed to warble a weak no. She said "I thought not" and continued to slap, threaten, and push me while my sister laughed. I have considered running away but she somehow found out and said "if you run away I will not chase after you, you b***h I will call the police, report you missing and let them find you and put you in a mental ward". I havent tried to run away since. She tells me that if I report her that she will go to jail but when she comes back she will get me even worse than before. She says that my sister will live with my relatives because they like her and not me (of course she talks alot of s**t about me to them, saying I ruinned all of her relationships and that I abuse her and my sister). She said that I will end up living in a crappy foster home with kids that steal my food and stuff and that I will have to leave my highschool and exit the academy that I am in. I am a fifteen year old girl, in ninth grade and this abuse is still going on. I dont have anywhere to go. I am so confused. I dont know what to do... Except deal with it, because that is probably the only thing I CAN do. By the time you read this, if a month has passed then I will have at the least five more scars in my collection of them on my body and in my soul... Bless all of you who read this and I hope that nothing like this ever happens to anyone. Keep in mind, no matter what bad luck you might have at home at school or anywhere, trust me its way better than what most of the kids on this site are going through... Including me.





Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Maria4

by Maria
(Location Undisclosed)

I'm 44-1/2 years old and have had a very screwed up life because of what happened to me as a child. I was an "Army brat", moved a lot. My earliest memory is of my father sexually abusing me at a very young age, certainly younger than five. I don't remember feeling shock or suprise at this memory, so this was probably not the first time this happened. This went on until I was about 14. Whenever he was home, I was in trouble. He would often taunt me during the day, dropping hints of what was to come at night. I didn't know how to stop it. I didnt want to break the family up. My mother never worked and would not have been able to support us financially, so I kept quiet to save the family. I sacrificed myself. I did some odd things in the third and fourth grade and was called into the counselor's office. They asked if everything was okay and, of course, I said yes. They suspected, I know it. Why didn't I tell? I feel that I sacrificed myself for the sake of the family. Although my mother is a very dependent person, my mother is also very domineering/controlling and was often quiet mean to me. She treats me differently than she treats my two brothers. They are her kings. She has always degraded me, insulting me and sometimes beating me for very minute things. She now is an old lady in poor health and guess who is taking care of her? Me. I change her diapers, everything. My two brothers live only a few hours away and are completely uninvolved with her. These are her kings. I have the entire burden. I still endure a constant barrage of insults from her, even though she is dependent upon me. Why doesn't she live with one of my brothers if I am so worthless and stupid? She's right, I am a loser. I had enough one day and told her what my father did to me as a child and she said I was completely crazy and did not believe me. I sincerely believe my mother and both of my brothers knew everything; however, no one ever tried to help me - I'm convinced they knew/know. This is the first time in my life I've ever told my story, minus the time I made mention of it to my mother. (When I saw the reaction I got from her, I dropped the subject. Telling her was worthless - and I got the response I expected.)

I have always gone through the motions of life, not actually living it. I am very detached from my life. I am able to successfully maintain decent employment somehow, but not in a fulfilling career. I could have accomplished so much more had this not happened to me. I was a straight A student until I started falling apart. There are parts of my life I dont even remember. I went to college for a few years with nothing to show for it because I was/am so screwed up. I couldn't figure myself out or what I wanted to do with my life. Consequently, my grades suffered. I made bad decisions. I was not focused. I am finally getting some focus and trying to get a meaningful career started at this point in my life. I was so lost as a young adult/teenager and just did what was expected, not sure of what else to do. I have the utmost respect for those of you who are in your teens and 20's and seeking help, telling your story, pursuing your education successfully, etc. I have had great difficulty with that. I envy you.

I married a man who did not require me to be emotionally attached to him - I believe I actually sought this out. He was very cold and emotionally distant; mean at times. We rarely spoke. We were together for about 17 years, now divorced. There is a whole story there, but I won't tell it here. It was a miserable marriage - we had no relationship. We had four children, one of whom is autistic and mild-moderate mentally retarded. My children are my salvation and help me focus. My autistic son brought meaning to my life. I would be dead without my kids, literally. They are fabulous and I'm very proud of them. They are excellent students and are focused and have goals/ambitions. They are winners!!! I protect them and make sure they know they can tell me anything and I will believe it and help them, no matter what. I can't help but worry for their safety. I kept them away from my father when he was alive.

Thank you for giving a chance to tell my story for the first time.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From MJose

by MJose
(Salalah, Oman)

Male caretaker Abused Me when I was 4 years old: 
Im an indian and i used to live in the gulf. Since my parents were busy with work they appointed a male muslim caretaker named mustafa. I hate the very mention of that name.I was a young happy boy with lots of intelligence and curiousity. In the evenings this person used to take me to the park nearby and take me to a hidden spot there, where he used to make me touch and feel his penis. Me being innocent and not able to copmrehend used to do it. I basically as a child inherently trusted my parents choice of caretaker and therefore assumed that this situation was correct. I dont remember more, except when my mother when bathing me smelled my hands and asked my what i had been doing. i lied saying nothing and on further pestering i finally revealed it. She had presumed earlier that something was amiss but wrongly attributed it to the similar smell of a certain type of lower she had once smelled. During my adolescence it didnt trouble me and i forgot about me but now i am 21 and since the age of 19 its been troubling me ever since. Im very much straight and have had a few girlfriends, even fallen in love but sometimes i feeled confused about my sexuality and am troubled with images. I detest this very much and try my best to shut it out. Sometimes smoking marijuana reminds of such things and i have very terrible experiences after that. Then i get very frightened of the thought of me being gay and an immense homophobia.

Troubled with an immense hatred for a person who could destroy a young childs life by some cheap act of sexual perversion.




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Child Abuse Story From Gabriella

by Gabriella
(Location Undisclosed)

The earliest abuse I can remember is when i was around 3 and a half.Me and my brother would get beat with yard sticks for spilling water or any little thing.We would be left in our room for a couple days.locked in their so my mother could do whatever she was doing at the time.She would bring her various guys home at night and kick us out of our room so she could have sex with them,.She made no point to hide it.When i was 5 she gave me and my brother up for adoption.We were both adopted by the same couple.They had a son named jeffrey.We both mainly spoke spanish at the time.They believed we were swearing and talking bad about them so we were not allowed to speak spanish and would be punished if we spoke it. They immediatly put us on medications for our "hypernous"wich is common for l.d.s. families. my brother had problems wetting the bed .They would say they were spanking him ,but he would always come out of the bathroom with a bloody nose. My brother had been sexually abused when we lived with our biological mother by our male nanny. I believe that is why he had wet the bed.No matter what he did he would be taking to the bathroom and punished.At first they centered the abuse around him.I would get in trouble for moving to much while a slept and would have tosleep on a cement floor.Close to a year after they adopted us they dropped my brother off at an orphanage .The only explaination they gave him was that he was a bad son.We moved shortly after I believe to hide the fact they failed at raising him.Almost immediatly after he was gone they started to take out their marital problems on me.They would mark what clothes I had to wear on certain days to make surei didnt get them dirty.If I did I would have to hike a mountain or worse get locked in the dark attic for days with just a blanket.They would have family meetings to go over what I could do to become better.They would critisize everything .I didnt sing well enough paint color exc.I wasn't allowed to give hugs because i did it sexually.They would fight with eachother over how to or if to punish me.The dad would stick up for me.The mother would find any excuse to punish me.She blamed me for her marital problems.The father would take me with to visit his mother.We were alone alot wich I thought would be better then bieng told i wasn't good enough or hit.He would tell me he would beat me if I didnt take my clothes off and lay down.He would call me a slut and I would get hit any way.I just never felt good enough.They would tell me they were giving me away and I would feel relieved.I finally was released from that hell when I was 7.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Cassandra2

by Cassandra
(Brantford, Ontario, Canada)

I don't know how to heal: 
I was adopted when i was almost one. My step mom played the system and said she wasn't with my dad, but yet at the time she was preggers with my brother, my fathers son...my dad was not allowed around anyone under the age of 16, for attempting to sexually abuse my older sister...so because my step mom played the system i grew up with my dad.

I don't know when the abuse started, my earilest memories are from when i was 5. My step mom hated me, she was phyiscally, emotionally and mentally abusive towards me during the day. My father was sexually and emotionally abusive during the night.it all ended when i entered foster care 2 weeks before my 13th birthday.

My step mom would make me kneel in the corner balacing on my toes for hours, she'd choke me, stab me,beat me with sticks, straps, forks, brushes anything she could get a hold of, i have scars all over...she'd call be stupid worthless, ugly and names she could think of she knew about my dad abusing me, she'd ask me how it was in the mornings, she called me his whore...i went to her and told what my dad was doing when i was 5, she didn't care. I was forced to clean the house and take of my younger siblings. I block alot of things out...im trying to remember to heal but im scared that maybe i was at fault and that is why things happened. My younger siblings picked up on the way she treated me and treated me the same...my father started his abuse with hugs kisses and tickles...he was so nice when people were around, he was mister perfect.he had full intercourse with me when i was six, he'd lick, rub me...he made me have anal and sex with other kids and men...im scared of the dark, of people, hugs kisses...i trust no one...in my first foster home they told me i would become a abuser because i was abused.

Im 24 and have two kids, i hate the relationship im in...my head is messed up, i just want to scream!! Im confused and lost...theres still so much more to tell, so much more to remember




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Elizabeth3

by Elizabeth
(Location Undisclosed)

My dad the monster: 
I don't remember the first time my dad abused me. All i know is i was 4 weeks old he broke my arm. When i turned 7 years old he would it me on a day to day baices. When i turned 13 years old the sexually abuse began. The first time he called me into my room and i came in to see what was wrong. he was say hes chest hurt is heart hurt he asked me to listin to his heart i did as he asked. Then he grapbed me around my waist and forced me into the bed kissing me and then stuck his tounge into my mouth then droped me in the bed. he took my pj bottoms off then licked my private it happebndnf ro 4 years when iturned 16 he raped me. Then i am 17 and have told people




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Pete1

by Pete
(Bangkok, Thailand)

I'd like to share the story with you and encourage for you who also suffered from child abuselike me don't give up! I know my story wasn't the most severe or brutal but psychologically it had a huge impact a lot later on in my life. I lived in the small polluted province around bangkok i suffered from recent depression and tried to commit suicide more than onece, although i'm still holding on to what i beleive that life is great and i'm grateful to have one. my child abuse story started since i could remember my dad he had a bi-polar disorder and my mom also had depression, from outside we looked just like a normal perfect family my dad was a well-known busniessman so was my mother. The verbal abuse were regular issue for the family which made me became a very quite child i dindn't like to communicate and kept to myself. Oneday i stood up and protected my mother from the beatdown my dad was so furious he took up a knife and ran after me i was so scared but had to fight him i was 16 at that time i still remembered till today, the physical abuse were also part of it especiallywhen i was young i got beaten a lot now i'm at collage and everytime i came back at home i still had a flashback and paick attack afriad that i was going to be stabbed by my father...it can't be normal for me anymore although my mom usually said you are lucky to have a family though i felt like i still had to confront fear and demon inside me all the time i begin to have uncontrolled emotion outburst and sudden sadness. but maybr things will get better because i'm only 20 and maybe the depression will get better i tried th medication and everything that will work hoping oneday this will not happen again

thank you for sharing and reading the stories
Pete




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Child Abuse Story From Mari

by Mari, a 25-year-old
(California, USA)

My story is very long! i remember part but enough to know i was sexual abused, when i was around 6 years old my mom used to let me go to my neighbors house, now that i think about it my mom was going thru so much pain i can remember my mom crying everywhere in my house, living room kitchen bedroom etc. i would always find my mom crying, i would go to her and ask her what was wrong with her and give her a hug but she would always push me away telling me to leaveher alone to go play i didnt understand at the time but now i know that when my dad died she got really depresed for many years, i used to blame her for what happend to me but now i know that its just the way life puts things for u, i remember going to the neighbors house right next to my house there was the mom dad and son (17 year old)he used to tell me to play with him he would make me go on top of him i dont remember him taking my or his clothes off but i remember him telling me that if i tell anyone what he did to me he was gonna hurt my mom and that no1 would believe me since i didnt have a dad i wouldnt have anyone to protect me so i stayed quiet i never told anyone what we played, the neighbor right next to his house was aroung his age i remember they (his mom) used to watch me sometimes and one of the time he and i were alone and he put his pants down and showed me his genitals i wasnt sure what to do he grabbed my hand and made me touch him i dont really remember touching me, theres so many things that make me so depresed i always think i was ment to be abuse because everywhere i went someone had to do something to me i was so used to there was my moms friend like 7 doors down from my house who had 3 sons the oldes was like 20 something then and i remember me and his cousin(girl) who was my age were playing y his room and went there and started rubbing us till it got to the point where he laid us on our tummies and had our pants down he was passing his thing from back to from with out putting it in, the other brother the youngest he was 15 years old he used to let me play his videogame only if i let him touchme since i was a kid i took te deal, i was molested by them for years when i was like 9 years old i wanted o tell my mom it seemed to much for me already but i didnt because i always thought tey would hurted my mom, i was already getting used to it i remember me and my mom going to her friends house far away from my house where there was a lil girl that i used to play with she had her uncle as neighbor who lived by himself we used to play at his house hide and seek, he used to make me sit on his lap and he used to touch m while she was counting down to look for me thats all i remember about him but thats not all i used to have a friend close to my house i was 9years old and she was 12 years old i was playing with her she got on top of me and started to rub her genitals on mine, i really didnt mean anything to me since i was used to man doing things like that to me i didnt pay much attention to that til now that i think about it, everything stopped at the age of 11 when i got my first period and my mom wouldnt let me go outthere as much anymore, i thought for sure that everything ended, but when i used to go do homeworks at my friends house her dad would tell me things like "you r so pretty, i like your body" he never did anything to me thank god for that i was feeling better since i learned not to stay alone with older man, but when i was 17 years old i was molested again by my uncle things started to get worse since he is a family member he was molesting me for like 2 months i was living with them because i was going to school close to them, until he finally stopped he told me that he was really sorry that he loves my aunt very much and not to tell anyone and i didnt because everyone in my family love him, i forgive him bt i would never forget what happend, i think it does affects me alot to keep it because i dont last with my boyfriends i always end up leaving them for no reason i get really tired of being with one person for to long time and i dont understand why so i blame it on what happend to me as a child. all i can say is that if you are going thru some like that to speak it dont be afraid, i regret not tellin anyone and i think its to late now.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From TG

by TG
(Portland, Oregon, USA)

I was silenced: 
You should know that my life now is unbelievably good. I have a good job which i have held for many years, a husband of thirteen years, a couple dogs, a cat, a few fish, have lived in the same home for fifteen years, and have a solid collection of really neat people who are good friends.

None of these things were expected for me.

I was supposed to be damaged goods. Psychotic.

When i was a teen, my mother had me put away in a psychiatric unit for months on end. Drugs were pumped into me. Lithium. Thorazine. Mellaril. A whole host of other drugs that i can't recall. I ask myself, what did these drugs do to my young body? How might they be affecting me even today, at 36?

The doctors gave names to my problem, because i refused to talk to them. Without my speech, interaction, consent, they called me things that make absolutely no sense to the person i am now. They called me things like 'borderline personality disorder.' Because i didn't tell them what the real problem was, why i was so distraught, they gave me a name. Here is my real story...

When i was 3 or 4, my mother's 2nd husband sexually assaulted me on a regular basis. I later learned that this was why the courts took away my little sister, who was developmentally disabled due to my mom's prenatal alcohol and drug use. My little sister was assaulted, too. I was left with my mother and my little brother. My little brother would wet the bed often. When my mom divorced him, she still let him have visitation with us, which meant sleepovers at his trailer. My brother would wet the bed and be sent to the "living room" as punishment. I would then be assaulted. At 3 or 4. I'll spare you the details. It wasn't pretty.

My brother went to my mom and told him what had happened to him. My little brother didn't know what had happened to me. The visits only stopped when Wolffe shipped off with the air force (that is how they met) to Germany.

At 4 and 5, his best friend, also a friend of my mother's, took over. Sherwood molested me until i was 10. I am positive that my mother had to have known. All those years, and so many mysterious disappearances with me during visits to our home, how could she not. And she gave us to him for weekends here and there, so she could have her home to herself. He would ply my brother and his son with candy, movies, access to pornography, and then hide away with me somewhere upstairs. He would ply me with wine, and his abuse of me would escalate. There was vaseline. Candlelight. He would say things to me that no young child should ever hear. He would do things to me that were so awful, i felt powerless to move. Afraid to speak. I look back on that now, and with the power i have now, wonder at why i didn't kick him in the face. Why i didn't scream and scratch and punch. Why i didn't claw at him and grab my clothing and run run run down the gravel dirt road far far away from him.

At home, my mother's third marriage failed when i was 10. He was a good man and thought i was a miracle. He rejoiced in my strange sense of humor, my remarkable ability to engage other people, the happiness i found in small, normal things. He is probably the reason that i have become finally who i am now.

At home, my mother would hit me. She would call me dirty names, like "bitch". She would grab me by the shoulders and shake me so hard that my teeth would hit, chatter, burn. I would be smacked for little things. She was so angry with her life, and i was a focus for what was wrong. She was a young mother, and had been a rebellious teen, so she was trying to gain approval now with her parents. I became her burden. Look at Tonya - this is what i have to pay. Everything i have done must be absolved, because she is my burden now.

At 11, Sherwood came into my room during a visit to my mother's. My room. Just one room from the living room. Just two rooms from the dining room. Just three rooms from the kitchen. He put me on my twin bed, kneeling in front of the window. He pulled down my pants. Then my underwear. He pulled out his. He held my left shoulder and pushed it against me. And pushed. And pushed. And then the most excruciating pain and i cried out. His hot breath, stinking of wine, and he quickly put everything away, asking me - you'll still let me do this when you're 16... Shock. Tears. That was the last time.

Once, when i was 6 or 7, i told my aunt what was happening. She instantly told my mother. My mother took me aside and gave me the third degree. Telling me that if i was lying, Wolffe would go to jail for a very long time. Scolding me for being a liar. I don't know how long this conversation at me went on, but in my child's mind it was forever. Finally, i recanted and was spanked. From then on, i was the liar in the family. My little brother even made fun of me for it. "If you'd lie about that, how can we believe you about..."

As i grew, any accomplishments i made were attributed to my mother. Any failings i had - .

My only escape was school. First grade, my teacher wanted to hold me back, thinking i was retarded. That wasn't it. I just didn't want to talk. Especially not to an authority figure. Definitely not a woman.

By third grade, with a couple of good and dedicated teachers, i was reading and doing math at the 5th grade level, and they wanted to advance me.

By 12, i started to get a clue about what was normal and what wasn't. I started to become angry at the way i was treated by my mother. About what had happened to me all of my awake life. About how i wasn't just abandoned, but abused, misused, damaged. About how i had no one to hide myself away into, to be protected. I was hurt. Beaten. Lied about. Mislabelled. Shaken. Scared. Saw no hope. No way away from them. Angry. Scared. Scared.

And then i started to act out. To them - all of them - they just saw a teen who was self absorbed and unreasonable.

I ran away. I tried to kill myself and was scolded for being attention seeking.

I lied. I stole. I did everything i could to get away from reality.

And when i was committed, they put me inpatient and plied me with drugs for my "personality disorder." because i wouldn't talk with the doctors or therapists, they called me "borderline personality disorder."

The reality is that i knew that whenever i got out of there, i would have to go back to her. And she would know everything that i had told them. And it would be the same or worse. There was no point in telling them anything. It would just open hurts and they would write them down, and it would go in a file, and nothing would change for me. My world would still be what it was before i went in.

They tried to "12 step" my depression. As if what i was experiencing and feeling were an addiction. They told me that i need to "make amends." and ask god for forgiveness.

And somehow, here i am. I made it out - so many years later.

I kept trying to make my relationship with my mom work, god knows why. Everyone told me that i was deserting her when she needed me most, when i finally cut her out of my life.

The sad thing is that the reason i finally cut her out of my life - it wasn't really just for me. It was that she was threatening my marriage with her lies and behavior. Everything else i could stand. My marriage was mine. That was when i cut her out.

Then my life opened up.

At first, my husband and i moved every last bit of furniture that she had touched out of the house and into the garage. We sat on pillows in the living room for the first month or so. Gradually, we began bringing things back in or selling or donating them. My house was cleansed.

And my life opened up. I started to trust people. I started to trust my husband. I started to trust myself.

Years later, i am more of the person i always felt in my heart that i was, but couldn't trust the world to show. I am open. Generous. Honest. Funny. Fair. Beautiful in my own way.

And i trust.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Elizabeth1

by Elizabeth
(New York, USA)

I am 16 years old and have been keeping this a secret for a very long time. I was abused by every person that lived in my house until i was 11 years old. My father has anger issues and used to beat me and my brother. He made a paddle out of wood and used to hit us with it. He also used a belt to hit us on our butts, backs and faces. If I cried for any reason, he would beat me. He bought special food that was just for him, like cakes and cookies. If we ate this food we got beaten. My mother was verbally abusive. When i was younger i was 5 pounds over weight and the doctor said it was not a big deal but to my mother it was. She would constantly tell me i was fat and make me do ridiculous amounts of exercise to lose the weight, then i would go to my grand mothers house and she would let me eat whatever I wanted, which i did not get to do at home. When i would go back home my mother would weigh me and if i gained weight id be in trouble. My brother was probably the worst. He is three years older than me and he molested me when i was younger. He would make me do awful things and told me not to tell or he would hurt me. One time i tried to tell my mother and he slammed me onto the floor and put his hand over my mouth. He has some kind of mental disability that the doctors never could properly diagnose. I was afraid to go to sleep at night because he would come in my room. I finally told my mom when i went to see her therapist with her and she told me not to tell anyone else. When I was 8 years old I started cutting myself and attempting suicide. I had to go to therapy when i was 9 but i never got to talk about the abuse. It ended when i was 11 and my parents got a divorce. My mother and father sit there and tell me it didn't happen which is the most frustrating thing because i know it did. None of this was ever reported. My brother occasionally threatens to kill me and will hold knives to my throat or try to suffocate me. The worst thing in the world is having to see him live his life so easily and have everything handed to him while everyday i struggle. Half of the time I go to sleep praying that I won't wake up. I have only told a few people about this before and none of them cared.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Laura5

by Laura
(Ireland)

It started when my sister went out of the house it waz only him and me he started kissing me and i pushed him away and he said you not goin to tell you sister are you i said no i now it waz wrong but i waz really scared he would feel me and say that i waz really fit i dont now what to do fell like i could get raped if i dont stop it he is an adult he has 3 kids i fell really durty but iam really afrid. laura




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Annie3

by Annie
(Fort Wayne, Indiana, USA)

"I will never abuse my children,"
That's what my daddy said before we were born.
He lied, a lie he never thought would ever have to cross his path.
Abuse, it was one of the reasons why I am this way.
I was a pretty screwed up girl.
We moved to a new home a year ago to start a new life.
I screwed up my chance to start over.
Everyone hates me here.
I have barely any friends, and there's nobody here I can trust.
My parents don't approve of me having friends so they finally got what they wanted.
Nobody knew the secret I was holding back.
My past was haunting me.
It never seemed to bother me that I am abused.
I thought it was quite normal.
My family thought that family was the only people you could trust and that I put way to much trust in my friends.
They were wrong.
None of my friends knew my real story except for Mykaeyla, but even she didn't find out until I recently told her.
She was shocked, she never saw it coming, and nobody else will.
I could remember all those memories when I was neglected and hurt perfectly, but I had trouble remembering the times when I was happy.
Maybe because I was never truly happy.
I remember the times when I was just a tiny kid I could hear my older sister screaming.
I would cry and scream at my parents to stop and they would yell at me.
"Shut up, or you're next!"
Then they would slam the door shut and continue on.
I would run to my room and plug my ears and trie to block out my sister's screaming.
Even though she was older than me I still felt like I had to protect her.
She was my sister and nobody had the right to hurt her.
I remember how school was my getaway, my only chance of freedom.
And that I was always terrified to come home.
Home, it was supposed to be where you can relax with your family and tell them how your day was.
To me, home was a living hell.
I remember looking through my old home videos.
I was just a baby.
My mom looked so happy as she held me in her arms, rocking me back and forth, singing.
She held me tight in her arms happily telling me she loved me.
I always cried when I watched that.
That little baby had no clue what life had instore for her.
Mother never tells me she loved me anymore.
She's always angry and screaming.
She hated us, we were a burden.
Sure my siblings were abused too, but it didn't effect them the way it affected me.
I was different from my family.
I had another secret I was holding back.
My family lost my trust long ago when they betrayed me.
I could remember that night so clearly that it scared me.
We were having a family reunion, and everyone slept over at my house.
It was late at night.
I could hear the floorboards creek as someone quietly creeped into my room.
It was pitch black, and I couldn't see.
Then it happened.
I was raped, but the worst part of it was that it was done by someone in my own family.
It happened in my own house, and I was helpless.
The person who did it doesn't even know that I know because I was supposed to be sleeping.
I was just a little kid, a four year old, yet my family betrayed me and destroyed me.
I remembered the most painful punishment I ever recieved.
I forgot to put away a bag of chips and my mother and father just got done fighting as usual so she just cracked.
She gathered all my siblings and I to the family room.
She had me lay on the floor and began to beat me with a broomstick
Three blows to the leg, the weakest part of me.
She beat me so hard that the broom snapped in half.
It left me a scar, and my legs bore bruises that lasted eight weeks.
One reason why I never wore shorts to school.
I fell off the sofa and cowered in the corner of the room.
I hated having my siblings watching me like this.
I remember my fifth grade graduation.
I was picked to read a speech.
I felt so proud of myself.
I practiced everyday for hours until the final day.
I stepped up to the pedestal and I recited my speech perfectly.
I looked upon the crowd and I saw that all of my classmates were with their family, but there was someone missing in the crowd.
My family.
I about burst out in tears right at the pedestal, but I stayed strong
I let no one see how much pain I was in.
I smiled, a broken smile and walked to the back of the gymnasium by myself, alone.
I wanted to disappear, to run away.
I wanted to run away from life and reality and fall into my dreams, my nightmares.
But I couldn't stay away from my family.
No matter how much my parents beat me, no matter how many terrible names my siblings called me, no matter how many times my older sister hit me, they were a part of who I am.
I loved them, and I knew deep down they loved me too.
All of this was my past, and the past didn't matter did it?
It feels like I'm lying to everyone, not telling them who I really am.
My past was locked away in my old home that was filled with dark memories, I don't think that lock is going to hold on too well.
I am still abused by my family and am quite emotionally disturbed.
My name is Annie, I am thirteen years old, and I am the most screwed up person, you'll never meet.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From John1

by John
(Toronto, Ontario, Canada)

A Little Boy Was Raped....That Boy Was Me!!! 
When I was 8 years-old, I shared a bunk bed with my younger brother. Beside our bed was a single bed. When my uncle slept over that first night, I remember asking him if he remembered the game that we used to play when I was 5 in the basement. He said that he did not remember and asked me to show him. I hopped into his bed and showed him. My younger brother had been sound asleep by this time.

I lay beside him - my back to his front - and began rubbing up and down on him. After the rubbing, he told me to go back to my bed and we all went to sleep. I feel like I opened the door and he kicked it wide open. He found a way to get by my parents and sleep over on a regular basis after this.

As time went by and the rapes began, I started to block things out, including the pain. Everyone would be asleep and he would creep into my bed. He would do his business and would cover my mouth or push it into the pillow to muffle my screams as he entered. When he was done, he had me, on occasion, go to the bathroom. Maybe he thought that I was going to get pregnant? I know, that sounds ridiculous, but I was 8 and he was 17 or 18...I do not remember for sure.

I remember - and this flashback is the one that comes back on a regular basis - when my uncle came over for coffee with my mother. My mother is his older sister by about 14 years. He suggested that we go upstairs and "play" as he put it to my mother. I knew exactly what he meant. My poor mother was clueless.

He had me choose a book, had me lie down on the bed, pulled my pants down, and began to rape me. I had to read the story out loud while he was raping me to throw my mother off. The most embarrassing part was that the second-floor window that I was looking out of looked onto my backyard and my neighbor's backyard. While I was reading, I saw my friend's aunt walking through the backyard facing us. I told my uncle to stop because she was going to see us. He would not stop. He just kept on going. I was so scared that we were going to get caught, but my selfish uncle did not care. Eventually, he relieved himself and asked me to go to the toilet again. I was confused, scared, dumbfounded. Had we been caught? Did Monica see us? If she did see us then surely she would tell my mother, right? Nothing came of it.

Eventually, my uncle was caught, or so I thought. My older brother outed him to my father. How the heck did he know about it? I never told him. Had my uncle been touching all three of us boys? What about my little sister? I thought I was protecting them. This cannot be.

All I remember is my father being furious at my mother. My father had me explain to my grandmother exactly what my uncle did to me. She called me a liar. I remember my mother crying. The next day, we never spoke about it. It had been buried forever.

My uncle eventually got married to his first wife. When I was 15, my brother became ill and he and his wife picked me up from the hospital and brought me over to their place. I was in the living room with my aunt and my uncle called me into the bedroom. He turns to me and says "John - when is the last time you sucked a c**k?" I was in shock and confused. My response was "What?" He then brushed me off and said nothing. I walked back into the living room confused over what I had just heard.

At 12, I was raped by an alcoholic neighbor just up the street while his drunk and past out wife lay in the bed in the other room. Why me? Did I have the words "rape me" written on my forehead? Was I just asking for it? He is the adult. He should have known better, right? Why do I continue to blame myself!!!!!

At 17, I attempted to take my life as I was struggling with my sexuality. Am I gay? Am I straight? Am I bisexual? Am I this way only because my uncle touched me? Wasn't I the one who asked him to play with me, therefore, making it my fault? I couldn't face it and I tried to kill myself. I lived!

I started becoming confused and although I was physically and chronologically an adult, I was a child inside. My innocence had been stolen from me, but wasn't that my fault? Eventually, I became self-destructive and began experimenting with drugs. I had multiple sex partners and got caught up in a gang-rape against my will. I had been given a drink that knocked me out. I do not know who these men are nor have I seen them since. I ended up getting an STI from this incident.

I contracted HIV. I remember asking the public health nurse if I had to disclose my status if I only performed oral on my partner since studies have shown that nobody has ever contracted the disease from receiving oral sex. He said that in that case, then it was not necessary. That gave me a chance to continue what my uncle had begun.

Why am I writing this now? I decided to go and watch the critically acclaimed "Precious" the other night and the rape scenes and HIV diagnosis just hit home with me. I had flashbacks again to my uncle raping me. I became that little 8 year-old boy again, and almost let it spiral downward again into a path of self-destruction. I found a man and performed oral sex on him, but not to completion. I pulled myself together and left and made my way home. I was depressed for almost 2 days and sought help on the world-wide web, where I found this site. I know that if I wrote about it, I would be lifting a huge burden off of my chest.

Am I the only survivor who becomes that little child when he or she is faced with a trigger? In my case, that trigger was the movie "Precious" two days ago. The trigger before that was in late-August when a girl jokingly said that I probably know how to deep throat because of personal experience. I never told her anything about my lifestyle. As a result, my thoughts went back to my uncle again and I got depressed. I reached out to drugs to numb the pain and the sadness. I slit my wrists and took a drug overdose. Once again, I lived.

It's like I have multiple personalities. The logical me, and the one who is self-destructive and is not aware of what he is doing. Are any of you survivors out there dealing with the same issues? Did any of you turn to drugs for help? How about alcohol? How about group therapy?

Today is a little better, but I know it is time to speak to a therapist or psychiatrist.

By the way, my parents thought that my uncle just touched us - which is bad enough in itself. They didn't know that he actually raped me. I recently found out that my brother was also abused. If I had only known, I would not have had to suffer in silence for so many years. I asked my brother why he never told me and he said that he wanted to just forget about it.

Whenever a relative would laugh, I would think that they were laughing at me because they knew. Did they think I was a liar? Is that why nothing was ever done? Were they looking at me funny?

The fact that I am writing this in this forum is a sign, I hope, that I will get the right help this time.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Cynthia G

by Cynthia G
(Georgia, USA)

When I was about seven I was sexually abused by a child only a couple of years older than me. For years, I am now 20, I did not consider this abuse because it was child-on-child sexual abuse. However, now that I am older I think child-on-child abuse is under-reported and more often than not victims of this type of abuse keep it a secret because they do not realize that it too--is still a form of abuse. I am in counseling right now and I am hopeful that the guilt from my abuse can go away that although, I do not remember every detail, it is still real, and is still affecting my life as an adult. If anything, I'd like to give hope to child-on-child sexually abused children, your pain is real and you should seek help...No one should have to face this pain alone.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Erica

by Erica
(USA)

Im a 16 year old girl from new england, and i would like to share my abuse. it all badly started when i was 14 and my parents divorced, my mom commited adultry and my father was pissed. he took everything he could out on me whenever he could, i have a scar on my eye from hitting me so hard it ripped the skin, i've had concusions, and been knocked out cold. My mom doesn't live near us but she was abused also. He hits me over the stupidest things, once because my chores werent done fast enough, or because he rolled the window on my fingers and i started crying so bad and didnt respond to him when he asked a ridiculous question like "do i need to drive back there and pick up your fingers or can you f***in suck it up?" when i was a sophomore i got abused so bad, he found out i hadnt been going to school, and just flipped out, he threw a glass of water at me, and punched me in the head so much i had a concusion. he left for work right after (and this was the first time in my life i did anything, i mean anything i usually apologize after he hits me) i called the cops sobbing and breathing heavily they sent two cop cars and the cheif over, while the police officer walked in my kitchen seeing me cring he looked at my hair which my dad had grabbed me by all messed up, and the red marks on my arm from trying to cover my head, he asked if i was alright i said yeah, is he going to jail, with no pause at all, he said absolutley i promise you, my dad ended up talking his way out of it 5 minutes later and got away with it. i cried and cried when they told me it was discipline and an open fist not abuse. my dad still holds a grudge to this day about me calling me the cops. i also remember when i was little i got a c in english, i was around 9-10 and my dad called me downstairs before school, and slapped me in the face over and over so hard, and i had a huge cut running down my cheek of blood. i got to school that day and my friends all asked what happened i told them i fell. Hes had child services called on him twice, not even by my family, by my friends families. He also is a coke head, and has huge anger problems. to this day, to this afternoon, my dad gets in my face, spits on me (like he just did 30 minutes ago) and threatens to beat me till he cant stop. i always try to figure out what i could do to make him not hurt me , but hes cotrolling and when somethig doesnt go his way he flips out, ON ME.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Rachel1

by Rachel
(Michigan, USA)

Still Dealing With My Demons: 
When I was three years old, I was molested by a young boy who attended my daycare, an older boy who helped at the daycare, and the pastor's wife of the church that the daycare was at. I have also dealt with unusual "sexual" encounters with my father from age 2 until age 15-16. This is my story and how I battle my demons.

I have grown up in Michigan most of my life. When I was three, my twin brother and I went to a Catholic Day Care while both my father and mother worked. We started the daycare sometime in August of 1993. I enjoyed going there every day; getting to see my new friends and spending time with my brother. But that all changed around February/March 1994.

During the naptime at the daycare, if a child couldn't sleep they were taken across the street to play with toys/watch movies at the pastor's house to avoid waking the other children. I often went over there due to the fact that I never really napped as a child. My brother and I recall that a boy named Aaron and I would often be sent across the street during nap time. It slowly progressed to Aaron and I being the only children going across the street-no matter how awake the other children were.

I remember a teenage boy also named Aaron who often helped out at the daycare. He eventually just came during our naptime and would take myself and "little" Aaron over to the pastor's house. I remember that the pastor was never home during the day so the pastor's wife would watch us. The pastor's wife never sexually touched me, but she told the other two what to do. I remember a lot of oral sex (done on me) and kissing. I remember seeing the little Aaron (I don't remember exactly) either urinating or ejaculating into my genitalia. This occurred for several months before my mom noticed a change in my behavior.

My father would not press charges against anyone in fear that it would "ruin his career". He also refused to take a lie detector test which made my mother question him.

When I was around the age of two, my father started bathing my brother and I so that my mom could have a break. Soon after she discovered I was being molested, she started bathing me herself. She then noticed that my father would bath me afterward anyways. A few times she tried to get into the bathroom only to find that the door was locked. Now why in the world would a dad need to lock the bathroom door while he's bathing his twins? She then told him that she would be bathing us from then on.

My parents separated when I was 8 years old and divorced when I was 11. I found throughout my childhood that my father always preferred me sitting on his lap verses my twin brother and younger sister. I never thought about if he had gotten hard during me sitting on his lap or I may have that as one of my many suppressed memories. Starting at the age of 8 my siblings and I visited my father often at his apartment.

Whenever I needed to use the shower he told me to get undressed and then he'd turn it on for me. He never let me see how to turn the shower on and I was too afraid to ask my brother how to. When I was 10 or 11 he started using the term "get ready" when I needed to take a shower. I would sit on the toilet seat trying to cover as much of my body with my legs and arms as possible because he put the towels up too high for me to reach and would get them down once I was "ready". When I was 16 we went on vacation and I couldn't figure out the shower so I asked my family "how do you turn on the shower?" and he said "get ready and I'll show you." I decided that no matter how long it took I would figure it out myself and that was the end to the shower episodes.

Also, throughout my life my father has asked me to brush his hair. It was never a big deal to me-I would sit on top of the couch and brush his hair for awhile. Then (I don't remember what age but I was a teenager) my dad once again asked me to brush his hair. Not long into me brushing it I could hear him moaning. I freaked out and made up an excuse to get off of the couch. Since then I have never brushed his hair nor has he asked me to.

These incidents have plagued me my short 18 year life. I have trouble hearing or thinking about the name Aaron, I get very upset whenever a guy comes too close to me, and I am very weary around my dad.

Luckily, what happened to me does not in any way affect my relationship with my boyfriend. Though I am still a virgin, I have no problem being close to my boyfriend.

My advice to others dealing with their demons is to always remind yourself that it wasn't (or isn't) your fault. Even if you wore very revealing clothes or acted flirtatious no one has the right to do anything to you.

Also, do not let what happened in the past affect your current or future relationships. I know it is extremely hard to "move on and forget" what happened. We will never forget, but with help from loved ones and God we can move on.

Do not let what happened affect your relationship with your current or future boyfriend/girlfriend or husband/wife. They do not want to hurt you- they love you SO much and would never want to sexually abuse you in any way (and if they do leave now).



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Child Abuse Story From Lexx

by Alex
(Canada)

I originally found this site while researching child abuse for a paper I had to write in my psychology course at the college. For some reason I felt compelled to put my story up here.

In the summer of 2005 I was 13 years old and my neighbours wife went to Germany to visit some relatives for the summer. Since my neighbour worked backshift, and was home alone all summer, he asked if I would come over once a week to sweep, vacuum, wash dishes, etc. if he paid me. Being a kid and eager to make some money I said yes.

Things started out innocently enough. Every Monday I would ride my bike over in the morning and he would let me in. I would do what he wanted to do, then go home. A couple weeks after I started working there, he asked me if I would make his bed for him. When I got to his bedroom he pushed me on the bed and began kissing me. Please keep in mind I was 13 and this man was 52 at the time.

I was to scared to say anything and he told me it was time to go home, but he paid me an extra $5 and told me not to tell my parents. I didn't. The next week I went back but I told him I wouldnt make his bed for him. When he heard my refusal, he picked me up and carried me to his room where he laid me on the bed and proceded to take all my clothes off.

I can honestly say I tried to block out the rest for years, but it never worked. After he took my clothes off he took his off and told me he wanted to feel my body. The next thing I knew, all I felt was pain and he was slamming into me and grunting. when he finished, he pulled his clothes on and wiped me down, then told me to go home.

This went on for the entire summer. Every Monday I would go to "clean the house" and every Monday I would get raped. I never told my parents, they still don't know.

Eventully, I stopped going there and got into self mutilation. By the time high scool hit, I had attepmted suicide once, and had scars all over my body from cutting and burning. It was in grade 11 that I met my current boyfriend. We've been dating for 3 years now and he has helped me clean up my act a lot. I told him what happened and he accepts it as part of my past, and as part of who I am.

I've managed to deal with my problem fairly well over the last couple years. I still have some problems with the man that did this. If I see him in a store, he corners me and tries to make twisited innuendos, but all I had to do is look him straight in the eye and he backs off. The only other problems is that I have major problems with rape scenes in movies, or hearing about child abuse on the news.

Beyond that, I see it as something negative, that has made me into a much stronger person today then I might have been otherwise.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Latrice

by Latrice
(Michigan, USA)

Suffering from abuse is a big survior its like can you survie or will you suffer.sometimes you have to make sacrifices in your life.like letting someone know your story have trust in them make sure that they make you feel good about telling your story.

I latrice was abuse at the age two until 13 It was a very tuff sitiuation to get out of.when I was growing up i had wrote down everything that he did by the date and time thats when I was eleven.By time I was done writting.Ihad over three note books full with sickness things he had did.Then finally truth comes out four years later.police took all my note books red them and use the note books to testefie.Then the nex thing you know he was charge as an sex affender. He is doing fourteen years in prision and he has seven more to go sometimes it botther me to here how long hes got but atleast he would be old it an't like he can catch me. well now im in college I have a appartment I have one child and hes three and I can't wait until he got to school. hes my little motivator he keeps me going.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Khalilah

by Khalilah
( Baltimore, Maryland, USA)

Child abuse story about still struggling but moving on: 
My story is a very common one. Growing up on the west side of Baltimore city Md,living in a divorced family home,I was lonely my mom moved out of the house when i was a small child and left my father to raise 7 kids alone.I would visit my mother on the weekends and her boyfriend would stay over and thats when one day it happened.He touched me I was only 5yrs. old.I didnt know what was happening and i never said a word.The next weekend came and he touched me again at this time I was terrifed.It happened over and over again he would put porno flics on and make me suck on his dirty penis like the nasty people did on tv.,he would try to put his penis in me but I was to young he would of had to force it in and that wouldnt been a pretty pitcure but,he might of well had bc it was jst like rapping me. The crazy thing is he would do it right in my moms company, he would get her drunk and high and there I was in bed wth my mother thinking ow well hes not gng do anything while im in the bed with her but before I knew it when she fell asleep there he was touching my private area and rubbing himself on me right in the same bed she was in over and over again he did every nasty thing he could think of with me besides having penetration but this happened until i was abt 9 yrs old. I know your woundering why I didnt say anything to my father or anyone.It was bc I was scared he told me it was my fault and he would tell my mother everything i did so I was afraid it was gng to fall on me he made me think It was my fault,,,,,bbut story short it caused me to go threw so much termoil in my life but as i got older i decided to research it and learn more abt being melested and bc of that iam stronger and i have selfesteem and im not a prisoner any longer but, even writing this story was hard.So I say to anyone who is gng threw this stay strong and keep pushing bc your stronger then you relise and there is recovery.It might take a few years or even a decade but if you keep striving and praying to the lord he will make it all right.I know it




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Child Abuse Story From Lynda

by Lynda
(Australia)

I am the oldest of three girls. We are all close in age. We grew up with an alcholic mother. She wouldn't or couldn't do the things that normal mothers do. Like wash our school uniforms, make our lunches or dinner. I found myself being the mother for my 2 younger sisters. We were given a hard time at school by the other kids. Mostly because our hair was unwashed and our uniforms dirty. I tried my best but I was just a kid who needed her mother.

She was always at the pub. When we got home from school she wouldn't be there and wouldn't arrive home until 10.00pm that night. Always drunk, always swearing and yelling at us. She wasn't one for bringing strange men home, but she did have a couple of relationships with messed up guys. One was an alchohlic like her. The other wasn't but he smoked alot of pot and would deal it as well. He's the one that molested me when I was 11 years old. It went on for about 6 months. Never full intercourse, just touching and stuff. I felt that If I let him do it to me he would leave my sisters alone. I couldn't tell my mum as I was so scared as to what her reaction would be. I thought she would be mad at me so I kept quiet. I was so happy when he moved out. He and mum had a big fight. I don't know what over. But he left and didn't come back.

The child welfare people got wind of what was going on in the house. To this day I don't know who told them, but I'm glad they did. They got people in to help Mum and she agreed to go to rehab as she didn't want to lose us. After she got clean she was a different person. She started to really take care of us and be a good mum. We all went to counselling together. Mum told us she loved us and was so sorry for what she put us through. I never told her about what her ex did. I just want to forget about it, put it to the back of my mind and pretend it didn't happen. Sadly my mother passed away 5 years ago. She had alot of health problems due to her years of alchohol abuse. It makes me happy that I had those years with her when she was a good mum. I don't know what became of her ex. I feel guilty knowing I should of said something as he has most likely gone on to hurt some other girl. I hate myself for being a coward. I'm doing Ok, but my sisters have had problems during the years. I have always been so protective of them and still am. We are all adults now with families of our own.




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Child Abuse Story From Shattered Mind

by Shattered Mind
(Canada)

I just turned 22-years-old and the effects child abuse is ruining my life. However, I am getting as much help as I need.

Most of my life my parents have emotionally abused me, and they still do today. My parents would always scream and insult me whenever I didn't do anything right. I remember one time when I was in grade 6, I was doing math homework. My mom asked me "what is that?", pointing to a math question. Before I even had the chance to look, my mom screamed at me "WHAT THE **** IS THAT?!" just out of the blue. When I was in high school, my parents found my journals on two occasions and burned them. My mom said that her therapist told her to do so. The problem is, my mom never saw a therapist in her life. Even if she did, a therapist would not tell a parent that. Now my dad tries to intimidate me with subtle threats of violence. As a matter of fact, there were times when I have suffered physical abuse from both of my parents.

I remember one time when I was a kid, my mother threw the remote control at me, hitting me in the leg. I remember another time my mom threw a mug at me. Of course, I was a kid, so I was afraid to call the police. However, there was a time where I wasn't afraid to do so.

When I was 19 years old, I was questioning my sexuality. When my parents found out, my mom was afraid that I would be killed and my dad screamed "I didn't raise no fagots!" and slapped me across the face. I tried to call the police, but they took the phones from me. Now that I think about it, if I did call the police, it would only be my word against theres, since there no marks were left on me. If the police came and then they left, that would have led to a brutal beating.

Today, my parents does the same thing. They try to tell me what to do and they resort to subtle threats, lies, and manipulation in order to get their way. I have tried family therapy before, but it's clear that my parents will never change. If you want to know how bad things are, well...let's just say that if I don't get as far away from my parents as possible, I will end up killing myself...in fact, when I was 16, I've attempted suicide a few times because of my parents.

What's worse, nobody believes me when I tell them. My brother for example thinks I'm making this stuff up and my therapist (he's not my therapist anymore), kept telling me I was exaggerating all of this.




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Child Abuse Story From Jezzelyn

by Jezzelyn
(Location Undisclosed)

When i was 6 years old i met a wonderful person soon to be my step father, he was kind and caring and made my mom happy. He took care of us. Two years after he had moved in with us, he decided he was tired of my mom, and started cheating on her, Soon enough he was cheating on her with me, against my will. I was nine and a half when he first had sex with me. Didn't stop till i was 15. i cannot tell my mom because they are still together and it would kill her. i am now 17 and i have been hospitalized three times for attempted suicide. Things won't ever be the same for me and it hurts. SEX ABUSE IS SERIOUS AND NASTY it is NOT funny




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Child Abuse Story From Annabella C

by Annabella C
(Location Undisclosed)

Hugs, kisses and knives: 
When i was 15,my father worked as a bank clerk at the local bank,so i was left home,to look after my 6 siblings.They were aged at the time 3,4,7,9,11 and 14.I was forced to clean the house,feed the kids and iron all of the clothes.When my report card came home i would get beaten for bad grades,as i never had chance to study.After beatings my mother would hug and kiss me and tell me she was so sorry and so was dad.On one incident my father armed with a kitchen knife forced me to lay back on the sofa.All the kids were asleep and mom was at work.He forced himself on me,and penetrated me,without a condom.I pushed him off and immediately found and took a pill.I waited till my dad left for work and i packed my bags and ran away for good.

That was 8 years ago,im am married and mother to twins *Gabriella and *Briar-Rose who are six months old and the light of my life.If anyone hurt them as my parents hurt me,i wouldnt let that person see another day.My children are my life.

I got over what happened, i am a surviver,recently me and my husband took on the youngest two of my parents as we were awarded full custody. Its a new start for all of us.




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Child Abuse Story From Bobbi

by Bobbi
(Kansas, USA)

When I was 4 my mother let a friend choose my baby sitter. He was a male, but my brother and I were sleeping so she figured that it would be all right. after she left he woke me up and said it was play time. I went to wake my brother but he said no. After a while of playing I went to ride my big wheel out of the room. He stopped me and said we should play in the closet. I took the big wheel in with me, and he messed with me for a while, when we got out he said "That wasn't so bad, was it?" I went back to playing and when I went to leave again on my big wheel he said it was time to play in the closet again only this time I had to leave the big wheel out. He raped me. I am lucky that God sent me an Angel who took away my pain and told me everything would be all right. Thanks to that the Angel is all I remember about the actual rape, but I do recall that afterwards he was trying to tie the straps to my sun suit together like he was concerned for me I pushed him away and ran to my bed where my little brother was still sleeping. I laid down and closed my eyes I must have fallen back asleep because when my ma got home I was sleeping. It was discovered what happened shortly there after when I was taking a bath and my water became bloody. My mom took me to the hospital and everything they told her that thanks to him the first time I got pregnant I would be a high risk pregnancy because they didn't know how well I would heal.

They took me away from my mother because she failed to protect me.

When I was 7 my mother was told she had custody of us back. At the time she was married to my sisters biological father. We ended up moving to Montana on the way there he started inapropriate actions with me. He continued to molest me by waking me up at night and taking me into another room. Not only was he sexually abusive but he also tried to kill me on at least 2 occasions that I can recall.

After this My brother, sister and I were put into a foster home I arrived while still 7 and left when I was 9. Shortly after arriving the 17 year old son started molesting me. He made me give him blow jobs and a lot of other things. I finally told because I was about to be dropped off from a visit and I knew he would be in charge of me. I didn't want to go through it again so I told my mom and she brought me to a county place that deals with bad situations.

My own biological father had recently came into my life and was requesting custody of me. I was so happy to go and live with him in Arizona. He had very strange rules though once I got there like if no one else was home I should leave the bathroom door open, but if someone was there it had to be closed. When I would ask him questions about sex like what is an orgasm, or how does a condom work he would show me instead of just explaining. Once I was having trouble getting to sleep and he offered to play with me to tire me out. Not only was he sexually abusive he bought a brown leather belt with a snake design on it brand new just for spanking me with. Because the new leather would hurt more than his old warn out belt. I was having trouble with peeing my pants and he would spank me with it every time I had an accident. He would also punish me by putting soap on my tongue. He would sit and watch me while I had it there and if I started crying he would laugh and tell me how that was just making it worse. When he had to let me go to my Mothers for half the summer he made me promise before I left that I wouldn't tell our secret. I of course made the promise. But when it came to 3 days before I would have to return I couldn't bear another year with him. He had already made comments about how he could have sex with me if he wanted to all he needed was some lube. So I told and was saved from having to go back.

That was the last time I was sexually abused. My mother had a new man in her life, and I decided he was my dad instead because Dad's don't do things like my bio father did. Starting at age 14 he kicked me out of the house if I got too mad at me. He took away my 12th, 13th, 14th, and 15th birthdays. The 15th was the worse because he had already given me my present from him, and he took it away. There was a guy at our church who had the same birthday as me. My parents took him out for his birthday and left me at home watching my siblings. Once we got into a fight over the dishes and he burst into my room swinging a belt at me. I freaked and flashed back to when I was 5 and my brothers biological dad had beat me with a belt. I was screaming and kicking. The more I did the more I got hit. I went to school the next day with bruises and the school called the cops. I was put into a foster home that I hated and my dad had it on his record. I got to go home after about a month and he never took a belt to me again. He did however continue to kick me out when I did something he didn't approve of.

When i was 20 I was staying with my brother in his apartment, my dad didn't like one of the people my brother had staying there so he told me I had a week to get my brother to get rid of him. I failed to talk my brother into it so my dad banished me from the family. My brother was still allowed around but not me. I was hurt extremely bad.

Shortly there after I met my husband. I used his phone to call my dad just days after we had met. My dad refused my apology and hung up the phone on me after telling me I wasn't allowed to come over or call his house. My husband helped me to realize that I did not need the approval of a controlling jerk. He helped me to release my dependency on having a father and realize that I needed to focus on what a great person I am.

I have always had faith in God, and Jesus that has never changed. I have always trusted that God would bring me through whatever was going on. That faith brought me through everything that happened. I maintained my self worth through becoming the exception to every rule, and making sure I knew who I didn't want to be. Not a path I suggest for everyone as it had its own rough spots. It took meeting someone who was willing to tell me I was better than the way I was being treated, and who I was willing to show how I was really being treated, in order to get away from the last form of abuse in my life.

Now I am 30. I have given birth to 3 beautiful children, and all of them healthy. I'm in a very loving supportive relationship. I only keep true friends in my life and have very little to do with my Dad. I am a christian and a survivor. I will never erase those awful memories from my head, but I have found the strength to forgive the ones who hurt me. I am better off for doing so, and know that God will deal with them.

If anyone wants to talk to me about anything I have written I am willing to do so. I hope that my story is able to help someone else who is going through or has gone through anything similar. God bless everyone with the strength they need to handle what the world has given them.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Rebecca1

by Rebecca
(Perth, Australia)

True story: 
Growing up in a single parent family with three other siblings was really hard, my mother bounced around quite alot with my brother and sister (youngest) being full siblings and me and my sister being in the middle as full siblings. after many failed relationships some abusive towards us kids, my mother went back to the father of my brother and younger sister, once she did that he showed his true colours- by that time it was too late... me and my sister not being of his blood, he took it out on us more and my mother, by the time we got out of there i was 9. my sister was anorexic at the age of 6 and we had suffered various abuses- physical, psychological, emotional, neglect and i suffered sexual abuse for years. just after my 10th birthday we traveled to the other side of the country, i thought it was all over but i was wrong... about 1-2 years later my grandfather started to sexually abuse me as well till the age of 14. when i told my mother she didn't beleive me and called me a liar, she said that her father wouldn't do such a thing!!! my teen years was a very sad and depressive, i made several attempts at suicide and self mutalation was a frequent thing... i an now 20 going on 21, i've only just started to sort my issues out- i've got a long way to go but i have the help of my partner and his family (i don't speak to mine anymore). i believe- what dosen't kill you makes you stronger! living though domestic violence and abuse has done that.




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Child Abuse Story From A1

by A
(Location Undisclosed)

I was physically abused by my mother for four years. She beat me almost daily, for the smallest of things like leaving a bowl in the sink. I was almost molested by multiple people, starting with my older cousin, then my mother's boyfriends who would sometimes rub against me and/or grab me, then the neighbor who put his hand up my shorts while he was babysitting me, and finally my uncle who put his hand up my sweater and down my pants. The only ones I ever told anyone about were one of the boyfriends (my mother beat me for it and accused me of trying to make her jealous) and my uncle, who was charged for it.




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Child Abuse Story From Melinda L

by Melinda L
(Pennsylvania, USA)

Looking at and reading this changed my life

Looking at and reading this changed my life

I am 16years old and still facing the fear and tears that stays inside of me everyday looking for a way out. my mother is on drugs my father i really never knew. i have a twin sister that started drugs i was very close to her she was my other half my right hand but one day she was going to her boyfriend house and she said she was a little scared can u come with me and i said yes because i want to be there for her but at that point of time i didnt no she was high. she needed more drugs but had no money to buy it and to them my twin is old news they didnt want her sex anymore so my twin pointed to me and i said no please M and she looked at me with her eyes and this evil look like something tooken over her, this would change my life. As she walked out the front door i was begging her please dont leave me when i run to the door i relied dat there were locks on the outside and the inside of the door so u needed a key to get in or out. them boys took me up stairs and took what they wanted and as they were doing that i was praying that god would pull me through this and give me forgiveness. they kept me in that house for two weeks and i walked down that street praying the lord is everything i will not fear nothing but him but knowing in my heart that im scared trying to stand when all i wanted to do was fall and kill all them including my twin how could you do this to me do u know what it did to me but to this days i fear my twin on what she did and it changed me for the better and the worst i just hope that i can one day tell this to someone and change there life it never to late to move on and use your past as the thing that help you move on.




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Child Abuse Story From Mika

by Mika
(USA)

A house of horrors: 
I grew up in Louisiana with my father and my sister. The abuse started when My father lost his job and started drinking. I was about ten at the time and never even knew what a spanking was. I remember the first time my father "spanked" me. I was just comming home from school and layed my backpack on the couch. He saw this and grabbed me by the back of the hair. The sound of his belt unbuckling will haunt me to this day. He beat me unconcious. I woke up with my younger sister nursing my wounds.

As the years passed i took it as my duty to protect my little sister from our crazy father. The beatings were regular and very frequent. There wasnt a day that i dont remember having some sort of bruise on my body.

My sister tried to do her best to be good. She knew that if she did something wrong in his eyes i would take the blame for it and get the beating. I could not watch him beat my little sister and he rarely did.

Just as i thought nothing could be worse than this, a bombshell hit our family. Our mother came back. We hadnt seen her since i was about four and my sister was one. she disapeared and we never thought she was comming back. I was 14 the day she came back.

At first i thought it was great that my mother was home, but she soon showed what type of person she really was. She was just like my father. She was an alcoholic who loved to torment her children. Everyday she would make me and my sister strip down and stare at eachother while she held a knife up to us. My father would watch and laugh at our embarassment. I dont know how many times i pleaded with her to leave my sister alone.

The day everything changed was when i was 16 years old. My sister and i returned home from school and there was a man on the couch that we didnt know. My mother was standing over him with a michevious look on her face and a second man came up from behind me and grabbed me. I tried to escape but the man was very strong. He forced me to the ground and ripped off my pants. I knew what was about to happen and it gave me the worst feeling in the world. My sister was pinned to the ground by the other man and she too had her pants ripped down. The men proceeded to rape us then gave our mother money. this expierience has scarred me for life.

After this incident I decided that i had had enough i needed to get my sister and i out of that house. That is exactly what I did. While everyone was sleeping that night we snuck out of the house and walked to our grandmothers house 5 miles away. Child protective services ordered us to live there from that day on and our parents went to jail for various reasons.

I am now a twenty five year old male with a wife and a one year old daughter. I am happier than i have ever been in my entire life. My sister is also very happy she is going to college full time with a scholarship. She is going to college to be a psychiatrist. I am happy to say that my sister and i made it through our horrific childhood and i would like to thank darlene for allowing us to post these stories online.




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Child Abuse Story From Bella1

by Bella
(Location Undisclosed)

When i was 6 years old my abuse started with my brother. He followed me into the raspberry bushes when we were picking them. He threw me down on the ground and proceeded to assault me. When he got off he had a smug look on his face. I sat and cried for hours. The second time this happened i was 6 or 7. My uncle use to touch me inappropriately when we watched tv at there house. One time he cornered me in the garage and pulled his pants down. He revealed his body parts. It was disgusting, he then made me touch his body part. That was horrible. The third time was when i was 12 or 13. My uncle would come and get us kids for help at the camper. He would only take me a majority of the time. When he did he did awful things at nite when it was late. He would sneek into my sleeping bag and do bad things. This took place for 4 years. It seems my whole life i have been abused. I married an abuser and now i want out. I want a life that is peaceful and calm. I dont want to feel on edge all the time. I feel its time for me to have some kind of trusting relationship instead of feeling awful all the time.



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Child Abuse Story From Mee

by Mee
(Location Undisclosed)

I am 17 and this is my first time to share my story in public and the only reason i'm doing so is because i have no hope in living so i guess i have nothing to lose.

From the day i was born my mother suffered from domestic violence, even before i was born and sometimes i wonder if that's the case then why did she marry my dad in the first place but when i tried to ask her she would get so frustrated and tell me that i'm too young and stupid to understand, that it was all for love.

In my early childhood days i can remember how, whenever my mum got so angry with my dad she would put out all her anger on me by beating me with anything she could get a hold of, from wooden brooms to metal bars etc. or even stab me. she would yell at me, saying that i was worthless, dumb, lazy and compare me with other kids in the family that were better than me and how she wish that she could replace me. You see my dad was a alcoholic and a pornographic but i never realised when i was younger till recently. He would be out with other women spending money while my mum and i would suffer at home with nothing to eat. I was also sexually abused during those days by my grandfather, my uncle, a cousin, all from my dad's side of the family and one of my dad's workmates.

Eventually, my dad got a job overseas so we went to live there. He became worse with his alcohol problems and so my mum decided to move back to our hometown and remarry. My dad gave up on us (my siblings and I) after the separation so he sent us to his younger brother and the wife who continually mistreated us. After completing high school my dad sent for me to go study abroad and so here i am living a lie.





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Child Abuse Story From Lindsay

by Lindsay
(San Antonio, Texas, USA)

Am I Worth It? 
I can remember abuse all the way back to my very first memory of being in this world. I've suffered through physical and verbal abuse my entire life. I've only just turned 18, and I, unfortunately, am still suffering through it. My parents divorced when I was young; maybe 2 years old. My mom leaving is one of the most vivid memories I have to this day. I didn't understand. Why? How? Where did she go? Is it my fault? What did I do wrong? Little did I know, she was running away from someone who would inflict the same amount of damage on my brother and I as he did her. My dad. To this day, my dad calls it "discipline". I beg to differ. Now that I am finally old enough to know better, I look back on my childhood situations and realize, it wasn't "normal". When my mom left, I was given the only available room in my grandparents' house. It was unfamiliar to me, so my first night was nothing short of terrifying. The trees casting shadows on the walls, and the branches hitting my window because of the strong wind. I was only three years old. I wanted my daddy. I screamed for him because I was hearing things that probably weren't even there. He came in angry, and frustrated. He started yelling "WHAT?! SHUT UP, I HAVE TO BE AT WORK TOMORROW! GO BACK TO SLEEP, LINDSAY!". I simply pleaded that I just wanted to sleep in his bed with him because I was scared. He continued to say no. Nine more times I cried for him. Every. Single. Time. He came back to my room with a solid wooden paddle that had a bible verse on it that talked about "disciplining" your children. I screamed. He hit me wherever he could. Ass. Legs. Arms. Back. Whatever got in his way was hit. Nine times. It was the first time I ever experienced it, and it wasn't going to be the last. This continued throughout my entire childhood up to about the 4th or 5th grade. After that, he finally stopped the physical abuse, and proceeded to inflict emotional damage on me. My brother, inherited this behavior. My middle school years were filled with physical abuse from my brother and the verbal abuse from both him and my dad. Somehow, it was always MY fault. When i got to high school, it got worse. My sophomore year, my brother was arrested for domestic violence. He got a Class A misdemeanor. He gave me a black eye, and a cut that gushed blood down my face. When the police showed up, they didn't even hesitate when they saw my face all bloody and swollen. Justice was served, right? No. When my dad got home it was MY fault, of course. He bailed my brother out of jail, and brought him back into my life. Thankfully, he joined the military, and realized that domestic abuse could land him in federal prison. He hasn't touched me since. My dad, however, still verbally assaults me. He goes for the WORST thing he can possibly think of. A real "christian" thing to do. The neglect pushed me to do drugs, which inevitably got me put on probation for most of my junior year. Recently, we got into an arguement where he called me a "fat ass" and told me to "go f**king kill" myself because nobody cared about me. I got so upset, I punched three holes in the wall. He called the cops on me, and kicked me out. A few weeks later, I moved back in because things fell through for me. Everything's back to the way it was, and he doesn't think he has anything to do with my mental state. I'm not eating anymore. My peers constantly tell me that I'm not even close to being fat. But my dad called me fat, and that's what matters to me. I don't know why, but it just does. He really has no clue that he's destroying my well-being. Part of me thinks it's "normal", because that's what I've been told my entire life. I think I'm finally giving in to the abuse, and letting it consume me.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Withheld1

by Name Withheld
(England, United Kingdom)

When my mum is at work she leaves me there with my brother who has very bad anger issues. He doesn't let me eat, sleep or watch tv. I spend my time house work, house work, house work. My mum does not do anything she says we are two lazy and wishes we had never been born. She swears at me, she calls me a worthless peice of s**t, she tells me she doesn't want and i should go and live in the suers, she kicks slaps punches me when i refuse to go and fetch her kfc, me and my brother wait on her hand and foot. When my mums working and im not doing the house work, i have a short amount of time to go on my laptop. Until one day there was a knock at my door so i answer it and its my brothers friends. I dont like them so i sed wait there i and i slammed the door in thier faces. My brother was shouting out the windo to his mates "tell her to let you in" and then i opened the door and they were taking the mick out of me so i slammed the door again and chris (my brother) told them to just walk in but but i had put the latch on. I called them b****es. Then chris came down and opend the door. They told him told him what i had sed to thm and shouted at me to appoligise and i wouldn't. Then he through 4 steel toe cap boots at me. I stil wouldnt say sorry as they pick on me all the time.So he through my laptop across the room then he dragged me onto the floor and started hitting me. effentually he got a kitchen knife and threatened me with it. This is nothing compared to some of what i get from him, or to what my mum does to me. Just to top it all off i get picked on at school i have no friends, i have had nits for eight years and my mum wont get rid of them.i would but i dont no how to, i didn't even have a nit comb till then other day when Chris's mates bought me one as a joke.i tryed to use it but i just couldn't i get bulled at school because of it and people take the mick out of me because i have the brain age of a 6 year old.my dad yous to rape me, me chirs and mum moved away so i thought i was safe, obviously not. I have no one to talk to and i am so glad there are sites like this to help me express my feelings. If there is anyone at school different or maybe not to your liking please dont pick or bully them because you never no what is going on at home!!!




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Child Abuse Story From Elizabeth2

by Elizabeth
(Location Undisclosed)

I was one of the happiest children you would have ever met. I played soccer, performed in children's theater and I loved playing with my best friends. That all started to change when i was 9 years old.

My mom had moved to another state for a job that she was offered, so that left me living with my brother and my dad. My brother was five years older then me, and we always had a semi close relationship. We were in plays together and we had a mutual interest in video games. I never really sensed anything could go wrong in a relationship like that, mainly because well I was still young and innocent.

It was mid summer during the year 1999. My dad had gone to the next town over to drop something off for fed ex for his job. My brother was left alone to watch me which had never been an issue before. We were down in the living room watching nickelodeon when he started asking me if I still wanted to be an actress when I grew up. I nodded my head up and down smiling. He told me my dad wanted him to show me what might happen to me when I'm an actress so that I could be prepared. I had never had a reason not to trust my brother. He asked which room I wanted him to show me in, and my parents room was the first thing that I blurted out. When we got into the room, I started to get a little freaked out because he locked the door. He told me to take off my clothes, because he just wanted to show me something. I had no reason not to trust my brother so I did what he asked. He laid me down on the bed and took out his penis. I started to get really scared and very uncomfortable, but he told me that if I was ever going to be an actress that I needed to know what might happen to me. I just laid there looking up at the white ceiling wishing that my dad would just get home. I didn't like the feeling of his penis on my pelvis or on my thigh but I was so much smaller then he was that I was scared to say anything or fight back. After a little while he stopped what he was doing put on his clothes and just walked out of the room as I just laid there trying to understand what had happened. I was only 9 years old, I had no notion that what was happening between me and my brother was wrong but I knew that it scared me silly.

I started to withdraw from everything, I wouldn't play with my toys outside of my room and I started locking my door all the time. I don't know why my dad never noticed the changes that were taking place. My brother soon started dating a girl that he was in a play with so it stopped happening, but I never stopped being scared.

About a month later I was at a friends house and we were playing up in her room. We started talking about our siblings and that's when I accidentally blurted out what my brother did to me. She looked at me and started to cry. She started telling me about what her brother had done to her when she was five years old. From that moment on I knew that what he had done wasn't right but because he was my brother I was scared to say anything to anybody. Even my parents. The emotional stress started to strain on me horribly, I literally withdrew from everything, I didn't play with my friends anymore and I stopped doing good in school. However nobody ever seemed to notice, except for my grandmother; but I couldn't even tell her.

I was 12 years old when I first decided to come out about what happened thanks to a girl I knew. I tried telling my mom but she accused me of making it up to get attention and got really angry at me. So I told the school counselor instead, I just sat in her office and cried. They called my mom in so I could go home for the day, but they should have just left me at the school. My mom had so much resentment in her eyes when we got into the car, I felt like I had screwed up really badly by ever saying anything about it. She took me home and told me to go to my room. She had to go pick up my brother from the high school because they were also sending him for the day. My mom didn't come back for hours. I just laid there in my bed and cried. I felt like I was a mistake, that I had screwed up by ever opening my mouth. By the time my mom and my brother had gotten home, it was already night time. It turns out that they had drove around talking for hours and even gone out for ice cream. My mom came up to talk to me and told me that I needed to take back my statement. That it could ruin my brothers life if I didn't. My parents seemed more concerned about what could happen to my brother rather then what had happened to me. All I wanted was a simple hug, for someone to tell me that it wasn't my fault.

After that one day, life in my house was awful. My dad didn't want anything to do with me and my mom treated me awfully. I couldn't do anything right in their eyes, and to my friends I looked like a liar all because I couldn't let my brother's life get ruined. I went from being this happy child to this shy lonely awkward girl all because my brother let his wants get the best of him.

By the time I entered high school, I had a very strained relationship with my parents and I didn't have any relationship with my brother at all. I felt like I didn't deserve to live because I couldn't even keep that secret. When I was 16 I went to go see the movie Georgia Rule with my mom to try and calm things down. That movie only made things worse. I got into the car and I just started bawling my eyes out. My mom didn't understand why, and all I could do was look at her. I didn't even see a mom. All I saw was a lady who didn't understand her own daughter, who had been so blinded by trying to protect her son from a mistake that he made.

I started cutting myself after this, for some reason it made me feel a little bit better seeing the blood. I just didn't wanna live anymore because I felt like a screw up. I don't know why I did, I guess it had something to do with the fact that I had let a skeleton out of the closest and it made my parents hate me. Nothing I did made my parents happy, if anything I was ruining their life. I had tried taking the easy way out and putting a belt around my neck. But for someone reason I couldn't do it.

By the time summer rolled around my dad started emotionally abusing me to the fullest extent. I was in the car with him and my bf made the mistake of taking to long to come to the car. My dad just started yelling at me blaming his bad life on me, and saying that I was the biggest inconvenience in life. It hurt me to the point where I called my grandma to see if I could live in her condo, she agreed and I was there under her guardianship. However I still had the car that used to my brothers so I drove out to my bf's house and just laid with him and cried all day.

By the time I got back to my grandma's condo it was ten at night and my mom was there waiting for me. She was so upset and pissed at me. She took the keys to my car and told me that I wasn't allowed to go anywhere. I didn't know what I had done wrong, but it didn't help that my brother and his gf soon stopped over to "talk" to me. My brother called me a mistake and told me that I shouldn't have ever said anything. I asked them to leave, to get out of my life because he had already done so much damage. I called my bf to see if he could come and get me so I wouldn't have to be alone because my grandma wasn't there that night. I went outside to wait for him to come get me, and instead my mom showed up. She broke my phone and threw me in her car.

I don't wanna write anymore because this is already making me cry just reliving it. All of this could have been avoided if my brother would have never molested me, if my dad would have noticed how much I was withdrawing everyhing in my life, and if my brother would have just owned up to his actions. To this day I still feel like its my fault, that I'm the screw up in the family, and I deserved what happened to me.

I just wanted a hug to tell me that it would be ok, that I would be ok.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Susie

by Susan
(United Kingdom)

The night started the same as every other night; I put the kids (my siblings) to bed and settled down in front of the television with my younger brother to watch something completely inane. After a couple of hours I packed him off to bed and started in on my homework. As usual I stayed downstairs until I heard the noise of my mum, my stepdad, and their friends L and A coming home, drunk. I ran upstairs and dived into bed, ready to pretend I was asleep. I always did this to make sure I didn't fall asleep in case the kids (mu siblings) needed me. I heard them get to the door, making a bloody racket as per the norm. I heard the key turn and then the door slam shut, then the catch flicked on. I heard my mum tell L that the door was dead bolted; she asked if she could stay at L's for the night - then the other three left quickly. My mum told me the next morning that she'd banged on the door and argued with my stepdad to let her in but didn't want to wake the kids up - I never bothered to point out that I was always awake when she came home and that I knew she was lying. For the next 10-15 minutes my stepdad banged around downstairs, before stomping upstairs yelling. I put on my dressing gown and went to the landing to shut him up. He started yelling even louder about how he loved me so very much. I managed to push him into the bathroom and told him to get ready for bed, I checked on the kids. The two who were both awake, I got them to stay in bed while I dragged stepdad to his room and put him into bed with his clothes on, then I left and I shut the door. I went back to settle the boys down and convinced them that everything was fine so they could go back to sleep. I shut their bedroom door and went downstairs to call L's, the number in the address book was out of date and I couldn't get through, so I gave up and went back to my own room. I had just climbed into bed when stepdad started yelling again, his door opened and he started banging around on the landing. I put my dressing gown back on and went back out to calm him down, I found him on the floor in the toilet crying. This is when my older brother G finally came down from his attic room determined to argue with stepdad about the noise. I got him to help me put stepdad back into his bed then persuaded G to go back to bed himself, no point all of us being tired - plus I figured he would pass out soon enough, never have I been more wrong in my life. I shut stepdad's door and waited on the landing for G and the boys to be settled back down before I returned to my own bedroom. I sat on my bed for nearly 20 minutes just to be sure. That was when stepdad started hollering again. All I could think about was making sure the kids didn't get disturbed, they both had school in the morning and had been through enough of mum's and stepdad's fights to last a lifetime. I went into stepdad's room again, this time he was sat on the end of the bed crying and yelling, as soon as he saw me he started telling me how much he loved me. I shushed him and settled him down yet again, this time I pulled his shoes and socks off and covered him hoping this would settle him down for the night. He moved into the middle of the bed and patted the edge asking me to sit next to him for a moment. I said no and went to go to bed, but he started making a noise again so I sat on top of the covers next to him. I must have been there a while because I started to drift off to sleep. I jolted awake as stepdad started pulling the covers from underneath me to cover me up. Since I was awake I tried to leave to go back to bed. He grabbed my arm and begged me not to leave him alone. I tried to pull away but couldn't. He started to tell me how much he loved me again, then he got rougher. He started to tell me how beautiful I was and how I needed to learn about how boys and girls show their love for each other. I don't remember too many of the details after that, I know I was raped 3 times that night that I can remember and can remember some specific acts that I was forced to perform. I remember crying for a while...but then suddenly I stopped and was silent for the rest of the ordeal. I just didn't care anymore. I think I passed out for a short time during the assault because when I came to there was something new happening but I don't know how/when it got there. When he was done with me he dress me back in my nightie and made me sleep in his bed. I was so incredibly tired, like I was a balloon with a slow puncture only now there was no air left at all, then I passed out. When I woke up I could hear stepdad, mum and the kids outside cleaning the van. I knew in a heartbeat how life would continue for me and if not for the kids I would have killed myself in that moment. I've felt that dead and that empty ever since. Nothing ever raises my heartbeat. Even when I do like something, or when I'm happy, or excited about something - I still feel the same; I just know logically that something is a good thing when it's happening.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Macy

by Macy
(USA)

Abuse: 
I am now 14 I was born april 25, 1995 My dad left when my beckey(my so called mom) was pregnet with me, i was a oops, Well i lived with my mom for 8 years of my life, and thoses 8 years i'll never forget! I was abused! I went to school till i was in 1st grade but the abuse got so bad that it left marks and the teachers would ask me what happend...And I would not lie becaue i was so use to not lieing,, that i could not lie! Once i turned 5 my beckey took my bed away,she took my eating privlages away, i could eat every 3 weeks!she took my shower my potty everything away and moved me to the basement...and it had no heat or A/C

I lived there if my siblings did not want to stand or if they need a foot rest if they need someone to hit anything they wanted it was me...I was a chair I was a potty.. That sounds gross but that i had to eat/drink it or my mom would shove it down! I was everything to them!

I was nothing,I did not know my dad...but once i turned 8 i ran away the cops found me passed out and took me to my moms...and the cops came back to my moms to see if i was ok, but they did not find me because i was in the basement, They took me away! They took me to the hospital and my weight for 8 year old, was 36 pounds!

I now live with my dad and his wife who i call my mom I refusse to have any contact with my mother she calls now and then but i wont talk to her! I am 14 and too this day im still very small.

its sad to read some of these storied it really is!
I'm so broken, to hear these!

but thanks for reading mine




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Meh

by Meh
(USA)


Meh and my dad got in a fight when he was drunk as i walked off in to my room he gave meh a knife and said do your best and kill yourself no one will care your just worthless. as i looked at the knike the door was slamed in my face. but its only 1 yr or 2 later and i proved to him that someone cares about meh. he seemed so surprised as i walked off with him the love of my life. no matter what someone douts you prove how wrong they are i did and i have never been happier




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Sidra

by Sidra
(Massachusetts, USA)

A Life Marked: 
I was young, but he told me that he'd always liked me, and that he touched me when i was a baby, and that i liked it. i was four the first time he raped me, i remember the felling of the dirt on my back, and him rearing over me, pushing and pushing, but i dont remember pain. Not long after the first time, he did it again, and that time it hurt. i remember walking into the mudroom of my house and telling my mom that "my pee pee got hurt". i dont remember what she said, but not long after that, he raped me again. now my father (who was not the one who was raping me) but he was doing the emotional abuse. he would say that i was slick or sly and that he was gonna "bust me in my head" and i remember him holding up his hand, which was bigger than my face, and showing me all the big rings he had on his fingers. i never complained, and i always smiled. i never knew that anything was wrong with the way my life was going. but i did knew that something was different with me, i was ALWAYS mean to my mom and i didnt know why, but i hated her. and when ever $%@^ (my sexual abuser) would come near my pet cat, i would SCREAM MY HEAD OFF! seriously you'd have thought that i was being gutted. but he did really hurt me once. we were home alone after school, we were in his room and he asked me to do something, and for the first time i said no. my head was then smashed against a windowsill and i was knocked unconcious. when i woke up, i was in my mothers bed, and my clothes were put on all wrong, and my panties were gone. im fairly sure that he gave me a concussion because i threw up later that night after getting very very dizzy. i then told my mother AGAIN about what was going on between me and $%@^. I was seven then, and she said that she would talk to his mother. it wasnt long before he laid me down again. the last time that he raped me, i was ten years old and he told my mom that he was going to take me to get some candy. we drove 100 yards to the bike path parking lot. we then crossed the street and went into the woods, my house was within easy walking distance. we had played with other children in those same woods. he said the same thing that he had said time and time again "hey i bet you cant pee standing up" i did. i dont remember any of the feelings other than the pine needles on my back, they were a little damp, and the sun over his sholder. when he was done, we crossed the road and went back to the car. i asked him about the candy, i still dont hasve any. though the sexual abuse was over, there was still more emotional abuse to come. my father was becoming more blatiantly violent, though he never did hit me. i remember standing at the top of the stairs listening to him ranting to my mom about all of the things that he hated about me; this would happen 1/2 a dozen more times. and my mother spanked me (which was the least of my worries) but she would also leave me for hours at a time when i "made her angry". but the worst thing that she did, was ignore me. i told her that i was afraid that my father would hurt me; he had threatened to throw me out the window (my mother was in the room) and once he called me, and i dont remember what happened but he started yelling at me and i started crying and that REALLY mad him angry. he then listed all of the things that he was going to do to me (break his foot off in my ass, slit my throat, beat the shit out of me, "i will go to jail for you") i was home alone at the time of the threat, i called my mom at work crying and she told me to get over it and she'd see me when she got home it wouldnt be for HOURS! She only believed that my fears were justified when she saw my father with his foot in my face. i had left the living room dirty and had not said hello to him when i came home from school. he yelled at me to pick up, so i got down to pick up, but i started crying; i knew better than to do it, but i couldnt stop the tears, he then lifted his foot to kick me, when my mother stepped in. my father and i are now very close. my mother made fun of me for having no friends (i was 14 then) and that was when i began self injuring. i have cut myself over 1,000 times. though out my freshmen year of highschool, i was told that i was retared and that i should go off and die. i am now 16 years old, i was sexually abused for almost 10 years and i still dont know how to live without the pain. my mother still has melt downs and leaves me, but i can cook now.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Celeste

by Celeste
(Louisiana, USA)


I've had alot of evil things happen to me as a child,mostly getting my mouth washed out with soap for talking,being kept from school to be assaulted by my mother,and also alot of hitting with stickes belts,literally walking on egg shells not to be cursed out and defiled with words.I was a "slut" and a "bitch" before I even reached puberty.I remember being very young and peeing on myself in the car because I was so scared that when I got home that i would "Get it".I'm surprised that I came this far on what I went through.I'm almost 26 now and I'm glad that I survived.Along with the abuse,I was deemed an unmanagible teen and placed in group homes,mental institutions and above all,I felt anger.Loaded with drugs all on account of my mother,and also anger toward my father for leaving me there with her,being an alchoholic and promising to come pick me up when he never would.There are alot of things that I can tell you about,but I'll leave it at this.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Catheline

by Catheline
(Rhode Island, USA)

Sexually Abused: 
It all started at the age of 10. when this all tock place, i was sexually abused by my older brother, for, 6 years and just recently told my story. june 16 2009, when he came to come see me, after he sexually molised me june 14 the week of my birthday something i thought was never going to happen because, i was now older enuff to understand this is not soupose to be happening. and when he started, touching me so many meroies, i remeberd it like it was yesterday before i told my story i started acting out being rude, bullying and sexual behaviors like desclosing myself to people, they dint find it normal that i was doing all that they new something was going on with me, instead of telling people what that monster did to me, i did it in actions, like taking my shirt off, in front of people, and just being highley inopporite, i was a mess before i told my story. i still am suffing from derpression and PTSD,because of all this, but i am getting help wl everthing thats going on in my life, im not saying i will forget what hes done to me but from healing and recovering from this experience.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Lakiyia

by Lakiyia
(New Jersey, USA)

When i was little i got raped. i got raped by my moms babyfather. it really hurts to see that somebody that you thought loved you would do such a thing. now i cant trust nobody now, nobody that my mom bring in the house. it dont matter if its girls or boys i still dont trust nobody. it hurts me so bad. i havent told nobody in my family yet because i know what they would do or what they wouls think. they would be upset at me because i didnt tell them the story when it happend. so thats why i been holding it in. until this day i cant believe how long ive been keeping this secret from my mom. this is the longest i have kept something from her. it hurts me cause deep down i want to tell her but im so scared. everyday i dream about it. how i messed up because im not telling my mom the situation about what happend. now im grown and until this day i still feel the pain. when i was younger i was crazy and now that im older i wish that i have told my family.




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Child Abuse Story From James

by James
(Location Undisclosed)

My story of abuse: 
We were on a family trip to the beach. I can't remember any other details from the trip except for what happened as we were packing up to head home. We were all walking back to the car through the parking lot. My dad was very angry about how much sand me and my brother were covered in. I remember him uncovering my bottom for all the world to see and him hitting me. I remember trying to cover myself up and protesting but he said it was part of my punishment. My mother started to object about that being unhealthy but it didn't stop him--she never did.

I remember standing in the kitchen with my mother listening to my brother screaming upstairs while my dad punished him. I knew what was happening was wrong and that somebody needed to stop him. I asked my mom if she was going to do anything but I knew she wasn't. What I remember feeling about the situation was that only I can stop him, I have to stop him. I felt worthless for not being able to protect my brother. I think I've felt like that all my life. Like things around me were always wrong and terrible and no one was going to come and make it all right. So I take responsibility when I shouldn't and that drains me to the point where I can't take responsibility for the things I am legitimately responsible for. A feeling of failing across the board only magnifies my deep sense of shame and inadequacy. I feel afraid all the time. I want to hide all the time.

I believe that I deserve to be free. I believe that I deserve to be touched and loved. I believe that I need others support and I have reached out and asked for help. I see a councilor, I am attending a 12 step group, I take my meds and I read tons of recovery literature. Most days it's so easy to see all of those things--as my father does--worthless. Most days my progress feels so intangible. I try and remind myself that the patterns of behavior and wounds I carry have been lifelong parts of myself as real as my arm. And that it's going to take time for me to heal. But I believe that its possible to heal and I believe that the only thing necessary for recovery is the desire for change.

I've done a lot of things with great intensity to try and fix my life but now its time for me to do less and trust the process, trust my sponsor and trust that my higher power will catch me cause I feel like I'm falling. "We CAME TO BELIEVE that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." (emphasis added its a process.) thank you for listening.

a survivor




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Child Abuse Story From Crissy

by Crissy
(Location Undisclosed)

Don't really know how to begin but I feel I have to get this out. From the age of 5 or 6 until the age of 25 I was sexually abused by my grandfather and three of my uncles. I feel very ashamed because the abuse did continue into my adult life. I have always felt a tremendous amount of guilt for this, like it WAS my fault. In my family my grandfather was the KING, nobody spoke against him and everyone in the family bowed down to him. When the abuse first started it was just my grandfather and then eventually he would invite my uncles to watch. My uncles were only a few years older than myself cause my mom is from a family of 16. My grandfather would tell my uncles "this is what you have access to when you are the KING." Eventually I was being passed around amongst all 4. As a child I felt as if this was normal but as I became a teenager I felt very different from all of my friends. When I was 15 I finally came out with what was happening to me. I told my very best friend and asked her not to tell anyone cause I would be in a crap load of trouble from my family for letting out this secret. My best friend was truly a best friend cause she did tell her parents about what I had confided in her. Even though I was very angry that she had betrayed my trust, I know now that she was acting in what was in my best interest at the time. Her parents contacted child protection services and i was put into foster care. I was threatened by my family, my mom in particular to tell athorities that I was lying and withdraw all charges and move back home. I was terrified of the outcome if I didn't do what she told me to. This is were the extreme feelings of guilt come in cause I could have stopped it then but I didn't, I chose to do what my mom told me to do and continue living the abuse. From that moment on and to this day I believe truly in my heart that any abuse after that point IS truly my fault. The abuse finally stopped when I moved out of town and dropped all ties with any member of my family even my mom. I still havn't got a clue on how to deal with this. I want to feel numb all the time and unfortunatly I keep myself in that state with the help of alcohol. I wish I could cope sober but it just hurts too much.




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Child Abuse Story From Anon2

by Anon
(United Kingdom)

Guilty about my sister: 
All the kids in my family were abused in some form or another. We never escaped from it until he died. The person who abused us was our step father. I didn't know he was my step dad until i was a bit older. He married my mom when i was just 2 years of age. I think he abused me physically from the age of three or maybe a little earlier i don't know. There was a lot of kicking, punching and hair pulling. I remember him hurting my mom a lot too.

My mom had another baby, my brother a year after they married and the abuse continued. My baby brother got hurt more than i did even as a baby. I remember a time when my step dad would 'punish' me by making me watch as he pinched my baby brother hard and pulling his hair and biting him. As my brother got older from the age of 4 my step dad would belt him. I still get flashbacks from hearing the loud screams from my brother.

My mom kept having more babies, the last one being born when i was 9 years old, my little sister - altogether there was 5 of us kids in the family. My little sister got more abused than any of us from then on. See, my sister was born with a disability. She was sort of brain damaged. She grew up spending her life at home in a wheelchair and could barely speak for herself. My mom never took care of her so when she was born i pretty much took responsibilty for her.

My stepdad took advantage of her disability. I was 11 years old when i saw how much. She was 3 years old at that time. My mom wasn't in the house then it was just me and my other siblings. My other sister dropped her milk and broke a glass. We all looked in the direction of my step dad, in fear. He looked at my sister and we all thought he would strike her. Instead he took her hand and put her in front of my youngest sister. He went and stood by my youngest sister and then began to attack her in while in her wheelchair by punching her and pulling her hair and hurting her in other ways. We all cried. memories of him forcing me to watch as he picked on my baby brother when we were younger came rolling in. My sister had to experience the same thing.

A couple of years later i'd come home from school. I went to get a drink and went upstairs to my sister's room to say hi - she never went to school see - i walked in to her room and my step dad was on top of her and she was wearing no clothes. I was about to leave when suddenly he had seen me and told me not to move. i was forced to watch him hurting her. When he stopped he put his jeans on and forced me up by pulling my arm up and forcing me out the room. He pushed me to the floor outside my sister's bedroom and told me if i told anyone he would kill all my sisters and brothers if i told and he would hurt me too.

After he left me on the floor i went to my sister's room and hugged her. I saw her crying and she said 'Pa hurt' I cried too.

My stepdad continued sexually abusing her. I know this because he often wheeled her out of the room when we were all home alone with him and took her somewhere for ages. I was the only one who knew what he was doing to her, and i was too scared of him to stop it.

When i turned 16 i decided i was going to leave home. I couldn't take it anymore. I told my brother who was only 2 years younger than me. He got angry with me for deciding to leave and told me i was abandoning them. I promised him than in a years time he could join me. He didn't talk to me for a while after that. I did feel guilty about leaving them all but i knew that they would never be allowed to join me. My step dad told me if i left i wouldn't see them again. But like we ever let that stop us. I snuck around to their schools when they'd finished and spent as much as time with them as I could. But i never saw my youngest sister. She was kept at home, with him. I knew he was still hurting her. My brother had figured it out too. Whenever i asked about her i only had to look at my brother to figure out what was going on. It was then that i decided to try and get them all out of there asap. I mean like our mom was ever going to try to, right? so i called the police and told them what was going on. Social services were called and after them hearing my evidence they took my siblings out of the house. I hoped they would all be able to stay with me but they weren't but at least we were all away from him.

I heard my sister had gone to the hospital to be checked out. My mom didn't seem to care about what had happened. Apparently according to my brother she didnt seem to bat an eyelid when social services took them all away - surprise surprise (!)

While all this investigation was going on i heard there had been a car accident. My stepdad had been drinking and driving. He'd died in the accident. I didn't feel sad or happy about his death. All i felt was a sense of release. Like we'd escaped hell or something. He was gone and he couldn't hurt us anymore.

My siblings were still in care of Social Services. After my stepdad died my mom took off, not giving a thought to any of her 5 children. good riddance in my opinion. She never thought about any of us before hand so why should she now? I still saw my siblings. Thankfully they were all put in the same foster home so they weren't separated. My brother came to live with me when he was 16 but the rest stayed where they were. According to my brother they were happier left were they were. But i still saw them and they were a whole lot happier. When i look at my youngest sister now she does seem happy, although everytime i look at her i feel guilty for not protecting her sooner. I hope no one ever hurts any of them ever again.



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Child Abuse Story From Bubbles

by Bubbles
(Tennessee, USA)

Before I begin, I have to say to every abused girl or boy adult or child, find your silver lining and cling on to it. My story is rather tame compared to the horror alot of you have gone through. My Mother and Father divorced when I was three and we moved from the state I was born in. im not exactly sure when the emotional abuse started due to the fact i dont rember much from eleven and younger. My mother suffered anorexia and depression and I was far from the skinny perfect child. I was moe the chunky kid who looked like her father. But that didnt really affect me till I was older. the part that rwaly wiped out my memory was of the SCUM she married when I was in third grade. A coke addict with a temper. I had two little brothers by the time, and I alwys felt like I needed to be the adult. Now, I need to give my mother credit, its hard raising three children on your own, and being to proud to ecept help from family members. but to this day i always think my mother should have never had children and just eloped her whole life. Anyway SCUM came into our lifes and our world fell apart. Hed beat my mother, and the three of us. By the end of third grade we had moved back to the state I was born and i was excited. My father adn his family lived there. but that was when the real horror started. Now my mother use to belittle me but never smacked my face. That changed. I was not aloud to eat anythin but breakfest lunch and dinner and it was what he wanted. I use to sneak down to get a snack when thwy went to bed. I was forrbiden to see my father and his family. now yes i was knocked around, but this SCUM broke my brothers nose and beat them so bad that my mother couldnt send them to school. And all the while she was to busy taking uppers in the morniing adn downers at night to do anything about it. In fifth grade a boy in my class started touching me. it felt so good to have physical attention that didn't hurt I welcomed it. But inside I felt so dirty and disgusted with myself. Luckly though my mother woke up and smelled the coffee and left the SCUM, but her emotional abuse kept up with me. She did marry agin, but he was the best guy I could have asked for in her life. Even though she continued to mentally abuse me. When I fourteen I descided to become anorec hoping she would notice me but I couldn't even make it a day and then I wqas so disgusted with myself. When I was fourteen I started using drugs and when I was sixteen I started cutting myself. It felt so good. I was molseted by a friends boyfriend when I was 19 and she didnt belive me accusing me of asking for it. I belived it. When i was 20 I tried to kill myself by taking sleeping pills witch didnt work. At 22 I was a coke addict who was willing to sleep with anyone for soem sort of physical love. Though I can honestly say I didnt sleep with a ton of men diffrent men, Ive had way more touch me and I touch them. I was sleeping with my roomates boyfriend a friends father anything for love. And then when i was twenty four I woke up and smelled the coffee. it took me two years to stop using drugs and still to this day I have urges to do them or get a knife and slice my wrist or jump in a car with a man. But I Realize Im letting them win. Ive always know I was not my mothers favorie, but looking back on what I do remember I had two sets of wonderful granparents who made me who I am. I LOVE ME and I AM POWERFUL AGAINST ANYONE. Ive found faith in god and he is my rock. Ive learned to love my self and my mother and I have become close. She feels awful for what shes done and I refuse to dwell on the past when I have so much to look forward to. AND I DID IT ALL MYSELF. I never went to rehab or therepy though I do think I need some. Thank you for listing to my story. As I stated Ive only went through a tenth of what most of you have. But when that silver lining, that sliver of hope appears befor you, grab on to it. YOU CAN DO ANYTHING NO MATTER WHAT!




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Cheryl J

by Cheryl J
(Ontario, Canada)

Sexual, Physical and Emotional Abuse: 
I was sexually abused from the time I was five to three weeks before my sixteenth birthday by my father along with many of his friends. My first time that I was sexually abused was by my father and one of his friends. My mother wasn't home and my two older brothers and myself were in bed and I woke up to use the bathroom and to get a drink from the kitchen, the next thing I knew was that I was being thrown to the top of the kitchen table. My father held my legs down as his friend had his hand over my mouth and he held my arms down with his other hand. My father pulled off my panties and he sexually molested me then when he was finished with me he threatened my life and told me to get cleaned up and get back to bed. I was so sore and the blood was everywhere. I couldn't find a bandaid to cover up the bleeding and I couldn't tell anyone what had happened so I took a large amount of toilet paper and placed in my panties where the blood was and then still crying went to bed. I was so frightened and all alone that all I could do was hold my teddy bear and cry quietly to myself until after my mother came home from bingo. Then I cried myself to sleep knowing that my life depended on me keeping my mouth shut the rest of my life. This continued and the threats got worse the older I got.



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Child Abuse Story From Jen2

by Jen
(California, USA)

Incest - The aftermath of the what my cousin did to me: 
I was always the youngest cousin growing up. I was bullied mostly by the female cousins I had. It was pretty hard on me, but made me a tougher person. When I was 6 years old, I was at my cousins house. E (male) and D (female). E was around 14 years old and D was 7 1/2 years old. I don't remember any adult figure besides E being around. He was watching over us. He asked me to come with him into his room. I pretty much always obeyed my cousins because I just wanted them to be nice to me. So I followed him and he locked me in his room. What I remember is that he was being super nice to me. He took off my panties and top. He removed all of his clothes. I laid there on his bed naked not fully understanding what was going on. I was a little girl. I then saw my first penis. He started to rub himself up and down my privates. I don't remember saying anything, I was little and innocent but I knew it was wrong. I didn't feel comfortable. D started banging on the door saying, "Let Jenny out! What are you guys doing!" She was trying to get me to go play with her. I don't remember why or how. But he said something like, "Don't tell anyone Jenny it is our little secret." I didn't say anything.

I remember after sitting on E's lap during a car ride and he was humping me. After that I never wanted to be on his lap. I would avoid him. I saw him humping my other cousin but she didn't know what he was doing. Growing up I would block what happened out.

When I was 15 I confronted E and told him in front of my family that I remember what he did to me. OF course he denied it!

I am now 24 years old and have been struggling because not only does he deny what he did to me. It is hard becuase a lot of people say I need to get over it. That he was young too etc... He was double my age and in high school and HE KNEW what he was doing! It is ridiculous for people to say just because he was young too that it doesn't count. I was robbed of my innocence. I understand he didn't penetrate me. Thank God! But I don't think he would have been that stupid to do so because It wouldn't have been know if I was penetrated.

I have then become more or less of a sex addict, I have a strong, violent temper and I have no self- esteem. I struggle still with my issues. I have becomed involved in unhealthy relationships where I have been physically and emotionally abused. I am needy (co-dependent).

I wonder why it happened to me. That one incident has affected my life because I lost my innocence! I was used for E's sexual pleasure. Not mine! I know my situation is not as bad as others out there. My heart and prayers goes out to all the female and males who have been abused in any way. Under no circumstances is it right to be abuse or abuse. I hope that I heal myself and fully recover from the pain and guilt I feel inside. I feel as no one understands. At least, my family stays out of it. I know I am a wonderful woman inside. I am working on my issues and hope that I will be able to shine to the world with my true self that I am inside.




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Child Abuse Story From Shay W

by Shay W
(Shreveport, Louisiana, USA)


Wow, I'm Blessed 
When we are young, we dont think about the things we do and how others take them into their consideration. Most memories are too difficult to remember, not that they are too far in the past, it just the pain and the suffering is too unbearable to remember.

As being born into an abusive life, I think differently about things. I think the least painful things are much more than they seem, like a simple belt whooping. Also, the way parents or others care. Its not about love its about show some TLC and having a shoulder for a scared one to lay on. From the youngest to the young to the oldest to old we all need someone, but like me, we had no one only ourselves. We can only hope and think that there was a future for us to grasp on to.

I would wake up at the crack of dawn wondering if the pain, the beatings will stop soon or will there be any relief. Getting dress would be a struggle; I would be criticized and hit for wearing something I had chosen to wear or if I had put something on wrong. Eating was also a challenge. Although we had something to eat it wasnt enough for my young fragile body. I was lacking so much nutrition. We had a very good education, which was a surprise to me, because I would expect nothing much more than I already had. I dont remember practically much of my education, but I knew that I would go home knowing much more every day. Dinner was excellent to me, because mainly take a walk to McDonalds and get something to eat. That little burger was a feast to me. After eating, came another difficulty, I would get poked, stabbed with a fork over and over again. This wasnt my only worry, it was the lighter.

My hands were scorched with a cigarette lighter over and over times again for no reason or cause. The intense heat would leave painful blisters on my tiny hand. The baths were the worst of them all. I just wanted to stay dirty; it was better than a being clean and its safer to me. I would take baths with my little brother and when I did, he always made a mess in the tube; I was punished for his actions. My head would be forced under the soapy dirty water to drown me for the punishment. The only comfort I had was of one of my older sister. She always to care of me the most and made sure I had a reassuring bath. O, how I wish she was my mother back then.

Those where not the only times. Another one, which from time to time I wonder why it happen the way it did, was when my mother told me to watch after my brother. My brother is very sneaky when it comes to not being watched, had taken everything from the refrigerator. I watched and I tried to stop him with all my might, not for him to do what he was trying to accomplish. I stood thinking of what type of beating will happen this time. We where both whipped for hours leaving the most visible scars, but I never gave up hope, I knew God was with me. The day came, a miracle rose upon us on a bright sunny spring day. Our neighbor heard our screams and pleads and she called social services.

I think about how life it different from person to person. Life can be hard; it can be easily, but either way most people give up easily. But I didnt, I keep on moving even through the worst of worst. I got adopted and it stopped. I still think to this day, Wow, I'm blessed!




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Kimberley

by Kimberley (not real name)
(Melbourne, Australia)

Why Can't I Be A Child Like Everyone Else? 
There was much controversy surronding my mum when she was pregnant with me. My mum is from Malta and is Maltese-Sicilian. My dad's Australian. My dad according to my mum was very abusive towards her and still is today. He yelled at her and even I think hit her before I was born.

As I grew older my Dad started abusing me for no reason and still does. I suffer from physical, verbal and emotional abuse from Dad. When I was younger he hit me several times for no reason. He once slapped me across the face for no reason. Once last year he even tried to punch me in the face.

He gets angry with me all the time. Even if I've done nothing wrong he blames it on me. Nothing pleases him. He never smiles and never speaks to others, espically his own family. I'm frightened of him. He scares me. Sometimes I don't even want to consider him as my father. I think of him as a bastard.

He calls me a retard since he thinks that there is something wrong with me, when clearly there isn't anything wrong with me. He says that all the kids at school think I'm retarded. Well how come I speak to a lot of the kids and I have a great time with them?

When will he ever stop abusing me?

It's not only me that is abused by dad, my poor mum too. And my younger sister is the only one not abused by Dad.

Sometimes I wish my Mum could leave him. I plead with mum to leave him and all she says is "soon I might".

I suffer from insomnia and social phobia as a result of all of this.



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Child Abuse Story From Stephanie2

by Stephanie
(Location Undisclosed)

I have gone to therapy for over 20 years now. Still, I've never spoken or written specifically and directly. It's very difficult. I feel embarrassment and shame.

I survived sexual abuse by my father and emotional abuse by my narcissistic mother. Sometimes I think it would have been easier to deal with severely dramatic and violent abuse than what I actually experienced. The subtlety seems to add a crazy making, 'do I remember that right' quality.

My whole life, I've view my problems as 'almost but not quite" problems. The sexual abuse was discreet. It was more fondling, holding too close, too long. I remember once, my doorknob was removed in order to paint the hallway and doors. My father would look through the hole. It was more like what he was getting from me than what he was doing to me. He would come in at night and rub my back and sides. Again, never too blatant, never going so far as to roll me over and touch my breasts or genitals, But clearly he was getting off. I don't remember how and what preceded the event, but I can remember getting in the tub to take a bath and I had 'stuff' on my knee. I didn't know what it was, but I clearly remember not wanting to put my knee into the water. I also remember having both hands on his penis, just holding it. I remember thinking it was very stiff and very strong both of my hands could fit, like a bat. It's so obvious now, but I simply didn't understand what was going on. I absolutely did understand that all this behavior made me feel very weird and very, very uncomfortable. This passive form of abuse left with the conclusion that maybe I was sexually abused, but not quite. My aunt, my mother's sister was 2 years older than me and my 2 cousins were several years younger than me. I know he did this to them as well.

In the eighth grade, I met my first real boyfriend, (who six years later became my first husband). This new development really motivated me to look good. I remember learning about the rich people in the old roman days. How they would eat and purge in order to eat again. I didn't think that was gross, and I didn't think it was such a bad idea. Thus, my eating disorder began. From 14 to about 25 I went through periods of starving/binging/purging. I was bulimic and felt like I wasn't good enough or strong enough to be anorexic. Sick huh? But, because I had learned the idea of throwing up, and the eating disorder wasn't a subconscious overtaking, I decided that maybe I had an eating disorder, but not quite.

My mother, God, I'd have to write my own book to give a complete picture of her. She was and still is completely self-centered. Her life and the lives of those around her revolve completely around her. She wants constant attention, admiration and adoration. I was loved if I did what she wanted, not unconditionally. I was her servant. I cooked and cleaned and took care of my brother who was 2 years younger and had cerebral palsy. I'm talking from the age of 8 or 9, not 16 or 18! I can remember doing the dishes and because I didn't use hot water, they were very greasy. They (yes, my father lived in her world too) dumped all the dishes back in the sink and said "if you can't do them right, don't do them at all". Of course, not doing them was certainly not a real option. Every Saturday I had to clean the house, I mean clean, clean. Cushions off the couch, furniture moved, laundry etc. I had to do all the crappy jobs while my mother sat on the floor straightening out the shoes in her closet directing me to the next job. To this day, my mother bosses everyone and anyone around her. She delegates all the tasks and jobs, comes in at the very end boasting and so proud at how much she accomplishes. She actually is quite talented. On numerous occasions, she's decorated cakes for people for weddings, parties, etc. She has my father bake the cakes and get all the tools ready. She walks in, decorates the cake and has him clean up all the mess! She loves to say "walk a mile in my shoes" or "try following me for one day". Man, I'd accomplish so much more if I had a staff or crew too! In addition to being bossy and demanding, she is very jealous and can't stand to have any attention diverted from her.

Of course, my mother also did nice things. She sewed clothes and we did go places. I don't think she's a bad person. I think she's a good person with absolutely no self-esteem. So I guess maybe I was emotionally abused, but not quite.

When I was married and in my twenties, my cousins "outed" my father. I honestly don't know how it came to be, but I remember getting a call from my father at work. He was crying and could barely get out "I'm sorry". That was so horrible. It's one thing to have this happen to you, to know about it, but quite another to be confronted with this in the light of day. I was very angry with my cousins for doing this.

In the end, some 15 years later, my father is very remorseful. He behaves himself as though he's grateful that I'll even bother with him. When I show up at their house, or spend time with them, he clearly feels like it's a gift. He is happy to spend time with us, but doesn't push or get greedy. He seems genuinely grateful for whatever I'm able to offer. I believe my father is sorry. He's a Christian man and I know he counseled with church as well as a professional therapist. I believe he also took classes for reading/writing. I truly believe that he is repentant and no longer does this. Either way, he carefully respects my boundaries.

Having said that, I am now a mother and will never, ever put my daughter in harms way. I sat both my parents down when my daughter was 6 months old and told them that she will never, ever be allowed to stay with them. Of course, my father understood. He accepted this. He said I was doing things right and he was proud of me and he also said that he was sorry I was put in the position to have to do that. My mother on the other hand...nuts. She carried on, crying, saying she was a victim too, blah, blah, blah. "What about later on? What about with just me?"

My daughter (who is just about 4 now) has continued to be a huge goal for my mother. I think she feels that my daughter is her shot at a 2nd chance, a chance to prove her "innocence". She's clearly oblivious to the fact that her narcissism/neglect/manipulation was just as damaging as the abuse from my father.

Depending on the moment and what she can get away with, her behavior and attitude can range from the weepy "I know I wasn't always there, I made mistake, but all I ever wanted was a happy family" to pouting and trying to make me feel guilty. There are times when she'll actually reflect on some imaginary, happy family memory. She's constantly pushing for me to let them spend time with my daughter. Even suggesting that they take my daughter on vacation for Disney! She's insane. When she finally pushes too far and I react, she will quickly shift gears "oh, you know I'm only kidding around".

My now husband and I bought a house needing a complete rehab. My father (who is extremely talented craftsman/carpenter) would help us out every chance he got. Every single time my father would come to our house to help, she'd comment about all the stuff he's not doing for her at their house or she'd 'kiddingly' joke "yeah, sure, everyone comes first before me", just leaving you feeling like a fool. Of course, if/when I would confront her, she will again do that shift gears.

I'm 44 now. My eating disorder has settled into just plain food addiction. I go through period of compulsively eating followed by periods of dieting. Up down, up down. It's draining and frustrating, but I continue to try. I'm 100 lbs overweight and while I'm not real happy about how I look, my self-esteem isn't non-existent. I actually do think I'm smart and funny. I ended up being a thoughtful person. I think I am a very good mother. So, 20 years of therapy did some good. If I can get free of this food addiction and find some kind of permanent exercise routine, geez, things might be perfect. Maybe I'm okay, but not quite.

Now that I'm writing this, maybe that's what holds me back. If I'm not fighting, surviving and healing, what will I do? I don't really know how to be completely happy. I don't know how to finish my story.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Margarita

by Margarita
(Location Undisclosed)

The first time i was molested i was 6 years old but thankfully im ok but it didnt end there because when i turned 8 my mom had to come to the US to get a better job nd give me a better life so she left me in my home country for 9 months but during those months i was living with a friend of hers and her husbnd and kids nd evry night the husband use to come in to my bed when evryone was asleep nd started touching me evrywhere and telling me he wanted me nd did all sorts of things evrynight and i felt so nasty evry morning it didnt matter how much i scrubbed myself in the shower my whole body still felt dirty but then i came here and i grew up without a father but i found out she had a husband so he was stepfather so when i turned 10 he started molesting me 2 and going into my room when my mom wasent around but he was not the only one my step cousins father harrassed me as well but my stepdad continued to molest me evrytime and i was so scared no one would believe me i kept quiet so he continued when i was 11,12,13,14 until the age of 15 he stopped becaused i decided enough was enough so i told my mom and what i feared the most came true she didnt believe me she tought i was lying so no one in my family believed me and they just judged me real bad and becauses i self harm myself the school found out so they sent me to a mental hospital called forwinds and its the most horrible place in the world i was there for a month it felt like eternity 2 me whwn i came out i felt horrible and to this day i get this horrible flashbacks of my past nd nightmares everynight and still to this day that dyrty feeling in my body wont go away i dont have my familys support or my moms and thats what hurts the most but thats not all the first stepfather i had use to hit me and my mom alot 2 but with this 2 one my mom married him and living in the same roof as him is like a nightmare come true to me i feel really bad....




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Child Abuse Story From A B

by A.B.
(California, USA)

Emotional Abuse as a Child: 
I didn't realize I had been emotionally abused, neglected until maybe two years ago when I read that this type of abuse existed. I have always felt inadequate, shy, low self esteem, worthless that nobody cared about me that i didn't deserve to be loved or cared about. I never told as a child or teenager to my mother if I felt sick or how I felt as I didn't understand but I knew she did't care; I wasn't important. I would have to warm a tortilla and put butter or mayonnaise and I would get hot water from the sink and make myself instant coffee. I don't remember but maybe two times her sitting me and giving me something to eat. I once went to the doctor I believe it was for a vaccine I needed. And the doctor saw me and said I was very anemic. My mother never gave me any iron or vitamins. In school I was always tired and would get some sores on my eyes. I think now it had to do with being anemic. I would have to hold my head on the desk because of being so tired. I never told her this. I guess I knew she didn't care. As a teenager I suffered from insomnia. The day I did sleep was on Fridays. I was very exhasted. I would have terrible headache every single day. I don't know how I got thru school. I would take lots of aspirins; they did't help. I remember when I was about nine and my mother was holding a neighbors newborn. I remember thinking I wish my mom would hold me like that. All this has affected me because people take advantage. They ask for al sorts of favors and I don't know how to say no. I am not the only one in the family of five sisters and one brother affected by this. One is bitter, another one is very unhappy with her life. And the others are about the same. My mother always complains why she has to call us and we don't. We don't communicate with each other as siblings either. I have been with depression for about 12 years. And these holidays it has gotten bad for me. I thought I was doing pretty good. And now I feel I'm right at the biggening again. I feel like avoiding my mother these days. I am 45 she is 70. Recently she didn't want to give me my uncles telephone number. I think she believes I was gonna let him know that I knew he is gay. My sister told me a year ago that he had a boyfriend. And my sister, I believe, got this information from my mom because an aunt told her. This aunt is the last person you would tell a secret. She tells the world your business. Somehow my mom thinks that my aunt is going to find out that my mom spread this information. I feel again that she prefers others like her over me. I have never given her a reason for her not to trust with things she tells me. I'm the one she always can get a hold of and I always call her. I thought we had done some progress. But I feel i'm back in square one. abandoned. I am sorry I have taken all this space. The only thing that I can contribute is that school perhaps should have pamphlets telling parent what abuse is and for school to be on the look out for these children that have low selfesteem and withdrawal. And, also, look at their physical appearance. Teachers should be trained to see if a child is malnourished or anemic and observe if they are holding their head in the classroom or if their grades are not good maybe because they are unhealthy.




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Child Abuse Story From Amy2

by Amy
(Location Undisclosed)

My parents use to fight continuously. There was never a night when screams couldn't be heard from the household. The police were often called and I always had to be in the middle of it. This was probably since I was eight. My parents were also extremely dirty people, the house remained filthy and there was never even an attempt to clean it. I can remember the health department came and told them to remove the toys from the yard because of the buildup of dirt and the amount of mosquitoes. My father always walked around with his shoes falling apart, bleach-stained shirts and pants. He would chew tobacco that would always end up everywhere. Sometimes when he was angry he would spit it on me. My parents never paid attention to keeping me clean, and as every parent knows unless you set a bath time for your child... at eight they aren't bathing. I never brushed my teeth, combed my hair, or showered. My parent's never cared or said a word. I took comfort in eating, and they never even said anything when I was an eight-year-old girl grabbing her second plate of dinner or just completely picking out. I became almost 135 pounds at 8-years-old. Because I was never properly taught to clean, I often would leave messes around the house. If I left my toys out, my father would grab me by the hair and throw me on the floor and start kicking me. As I got older it elevated to him shoving my head in the toilet. He got very brave, he would even beat me in front of my brother's babysitters. He would often tell me how stupid I was, or compare me to other children I knew and tell me how much better they were than me. He was VERY controlling, I couldn't go anywhere or do anything unless I had permission. I remember being 12 and asking to go to a carnival with some girls from school. He told me no, not even giving a specific reason... as a joke he decided to tell me if I sucked off the dog he would let me go. I started crying, almost even tempted to do it because I was so lonely. He saw the desire in my eyes and then threw me on the floor and started beating me.

I went through a weight battle, and starved myself to 95 pounds. When I hit around 16, I had really blossomed into an attractive girl. I used my looks to gain male affection that my father never gave me. I slept with countless older men, my first being 28 and second being 36. I couldn't get enough sex. It got to the point where I couldn't even get past the first date without doing something sexual. I moved in with my grandmother who lived next door and was able to "sleep over my girlfriend's house" to get away when in reality I was going to a motel to have sex for the night. One time I slept with over six men in one week to stay out of the house for that long. By the time I reached eighteen I had slept with over 32 men. None of them really caring for me, and often they would stop talking to me by ignoring me within a month or even a few days. I got more depressed by the second.

It was hard to keep friends, because he was always suspicious of what I was doing. I made a friend who happened to be gay and I was not allowed to see him or drive him anywhere because he thought that this was a secret boyfriend and I was having sex with him. When I was eighteen he restricted me SO much. I needed permission for this, permission for that... I couldn't even go out without him questioning who what when where why. It got to the point where I would have to just leave or he would end up saying no and beating me. He tried to make this thing up where I was only allowed out on mondays for 3 hours and I needed to call him every hour. I couldn't keep friends because of him, and my life was just horrible. The people in the neighborhood weren't any better. They treated us like trailer trash and often said things to me. If I still had fight left in me id go back and beat the hell out of them if I could for talking that way to a child as an adult.

My mother was no better, she defended him and only told me not to provoke him. He really shattered the relationship I had with her. When I would try to go out with her, he'd call maybe fifteen or twenty minutes in telling her to get home RIGHT NOW. He gave no reason why, and she just silently obeyed telling me "He wants us home, we need to go, don't provoke him." She was the same when he beat me. He often left bruises, busted lips, etc. She would tell me it was my fault because I started with him. "Starting" with him involved defending myself when he was cursing at me and saying horrible things or even just simply asking to go out somewhere. She always gave excuses. Since my brother was mentally retarded, she said that she needed my father to help support him and would get angry with me with I said I wanted to call the police when he would beat me. She said to stop making things so difficult.

I'm older now, and i've lived with my boyfriend for the last six months. I constantly think about the abuse, and I can't hold a job because when customers get angry with me I start to cry. I have messed up views of sex and have a hard time getting aroused because I am use to sex with men in motels after knowing them for a few days. My life is just really hard to deal with. My father ruined my life forever and I will never forgive him. Even as an adult he still tries to abuse me. He use to call my cellphone saying my boyfriend is going to break up with me, tell me to go f**k myself, and that beauty school is for idiots like me. I am in cosmetology school trying to get my life together.




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Child Abuse Story From Gracie

by Gracie
(Location Undisclosed)

I want to start by saying that I love my dad I really do and he is by no means evil. Having said that there are some days that I hate him so much I can barely breathe.

I am 20 and still live at home, not entirely from choice (I moved out for a while), but I feel kind of bad for badmouthing him when I do owe him a lot. I mean he paid for me to get a damn good education and I am very lucky.

This does not mean he has an excuse to treat me the way he does. Whilst he hasn't hit me in a long time and I don't think he would I am still afraid of him sometimes.

The first time I remember him getting violent was at an extremely stressful time for our family as my sister had leukimia and the doctors told them she would probably not survive. My dad did not cope well with this and I can't remember exactly what I had done but he was spanking me and when he was done I laughed in his face and told him it didn't hurt and that I didn't care. I was still pretty young at time but I vividly remember thinking there was no way in hell I was going to let him see that he hurt me. His reaction however was not what I expected. In hindsight I realise he was having a terrible time and he was kind of falling apart but he just started to scream at me and hit me until I was crying in a terrified ball on the floor.

That is all I remember, I am not sure what happened after that. I never told anyone in family so unless my father did which I doubt no-one knows. I was the kind kid that was always getting bumps and scrapes so it is not that unlikely my mum (who I love more that anyone in the world) would not have noticed plus it was a terrible time for her too.

Another time I remember I was about 8 and I had done something naughty (I was quite a naughty child) although I don't remember exactly what I did but I was so scared that I ran to the bathroom and locked the door. He started to bang on the door so hard that I could see the door curving and bending under the force of it. I was sure that he was going to break the door down as he is a big man and I knew he could. For one crazy moment I actually thought he was going to kill me. Again I remember opening the door but I don't know what happened after but even now as I think about I can feel my pulse racing and I feel a little sick.

My memories of my childhood are filled with huge gaps anyway so I am not sure how often things like that went on. I do remember other times when things like that happened. I don't think it was too bad relatively though.

I think what I hate my about my relationship with my dad (which I still hope to mend) is the way he seems to hate me. He can just be really really nasty. He makes me feel totally worthless and then is like 'what's wrong with you?' and will laugh at me. If I ever smell alcohol on his breath I just go to my room because I just don't want to be in the same room as him if he is drunk.

I have two sisters, my younger one who he gets on with really very well and who I would never tell her about this because I don't want to ruin her relationship with him.

My older sister has quite a distant relationship with him, but when I brought up something he had once done to me she was totally shocked so I tried to down play it because I was embarrassed and again I didn't want to taint their relationship either. As I never talked about anything he did to anyone I was afraid he might have done something like that to my sister too but I don't think so.

I am not certain how to improve my relationship with him at the moment. I know that he can be really horrible and then turn around and do something nice like buy me a new bag when my old one got stolen so I end up being crushed by the guilt of thinking horrible things about him.

I know that he suffers from bad depression so there are reasons why he acts the way he does with his mood swings. Sometimes the ups are as worrying as the downs. He can act really manic and I know that my mum doesn't like it either. I have thought about talking to her about all this but I think that she would just up and leave him if she knew and if she is happy as things are then it would be my fault for ruining her life over something that might be okay when I leave home again for good.

I hate the fact that I can't bear people touching me (apart from my mum who always makes me feel better) My sister asked me why I hate being touched the other day and I honestly couldn't explain, mostly because I am not sure myself.

My dad works away from home but lives at home every other week (sometimes more sometimes less) and I feel terrible that I dread it when he coming home because he can be nice or at least neutral for days and then I wonder why I am still feeling the way I do about some stuff that he doesn't do anymore.

Sorry for babbling but as I have never talked about this really it feels good to especially anonymously. I am a very private person and I find it embarrassing. Anyway, Thanks




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Aaron1

by Aaron
(Indianapolis, Indiana, USA)

I am a 38 year old male.My story starts at age 5yrs old,i do not have any memory of my childhood before age 5.My mom and dad have been together over 45yrs,and my dad worked for the same company 32yrs,he retired feb 2009,a normall happy family it seemed like.My mom is the most jeoules women on earth,she controlled my dad,and me and my sister.From age 5yrs she kept me deadbotted in my room and had my windows nailed shut,so i could not get out,the only time i got out of my room was to use the bathroom,and go to school.I was not allowed no school books are anything else in my room,except for my clothes and bed was all i had in my room.I was not allowed no friends,could not go outside and play,it was a prison.I would pee in my pants,she would give me enniemas daily to teach me not to do that,i would have to bang on my door to go to the bathroom and she would not here me,are be gone,are just not care,thats why i would pee in my pants.Her and my dad would beat me for anything you could think of,my dad was always gone at work,he would beat me because she told him to,he just did as he was told.My stupid school was to blind to see what was going on,my mom never went to the school for anythink,she would not sizn my report cards and they had no contact number for her,and she would not give me the home phone number.So the school would blame me for not having my report card sizned.I was stealing at school and fighting all the time,so the school would give me the board on my rear at least twice a week.So between home and school i was getting it good.That part of my life went on until the 4th grade,i went to gym class and was changing and the teacher seen me naked and saw all the bruises on my body.I was taken out of my home that day,i lived with foster family of a kid that went to my school,they where very nice people,it was great,but then they said it was time to try going back home after 5mos away,i knew things would not be better,Well my first couple of days home,where ok,i could not stand my mom being nice to me eather,it made me sick,i knew she was not real,i am about 10yrs old now,when i was returned home.So after a few dats of her fake kindness,things went back to normall,she was hiting me again,calling me names and making me feel like i was nothing,and she made me believe i was retarted.Well i tried to run away,and she took all my clothes away,i was nude and i stayed in the closet in the dining room,she would not let me have my bedroom,she had turned it into her tv room when i was taken out of the home,so to keep me runing away they kept my clothes all locked up in her bedroom,and school was out for the summer,so it was easy for them to get away with this,so when my caseworker would come and check on me,i was to scared to say anything was going on,so finaly i took the curtains down from the dining room window,when the crazy lady left to go some where,i covered up my body,went outside,knocked out her bedroom window and got my clothes and shoes and i got out of there.So for the 2nd time i was taken out of the prison,went back with my foster parents,for about 3mos,they could not deal with me i am about 12yrs old now,they said that i was to much for them,so then i was put in a group home stayed there for 3yrs,then i went with the group home parents to missouri for about 3mos,we come back they could not find work,so i found a job when we come back from missouri,i run into my mom at the mall i am now almost 17yrs old,i returned home for 3mos,worked dropped out of school,and my mom made me give her rent money,they did not need it my dad made very good living at gm.I was working two jobs and giving 90% of my pay to her,so at this point i am not letting her hurt me in any way phsical,but she was taken my stuff out of my room and killing my fish,i was getting ready to kill her,when a friend i had met talked me out of it,i am so happy he did that,i moved in with my friends family,the kid that saved me from killing my mom,his family treated me good.I am almost 18yrs old two weeks away from my birthday,when i met my friends aunt,she is older then me,we fell in love and are married now,we have been together 18yrs now,lots of ups and downs i believe from my childhood,she is very understanding and loves me for who i am,i have had lots of trouble keeping jobs,i have had over 200 jobs,i am a great worker,i have been hired back three times at two of the jobs i had,because of my hard working believes,but i have a bad temper,and i will not let anyone are anybody treat me bad are talk down to me,are control me,so this is a problem in the job world and a problem in my marriage,because my wife has to take care of making the money.I have 2 stepdaughters,and 5 grandkids,we are all close,and the grandkids love me very much,i would not hurt a kid for all the money in the world,i am like a kid my self,i play with my grandkids,i am like one of them when we are playing thats why they are close to me,because i will play all the games and sports and things.So what i am saying is i have been able to do good with kids and older people,i do a lot for older couples i have met,i help them with there homes and anythink else they need help with,but from the abuse i have had,i have no friends my age,and i am not able to hold a job,i was not able to finish school,and i have depreesion all the time.I would like to here from other people how abuse has effeted there lives.I could go on and on about the abuse my mother did to me,but it does not matter anymore the damage has been done,and i am trying to deal with it.And also if any one knows where i could get free counceling in indianapolis that would be great.Thanks for reading my story,keep me in ypur prayers,and i will be praying for all of you.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From April1

by April
(Location Undisclosed)

Back in the 80's it was not uncommon for parents to spank or whip their kids. The types of whips that may be used was a belt with studs, tree branches, or even wooden spoons. I had a step dad who had a lot of demands made upon him by my mother. She would get irritated at her least favorite kids, generally the same two kids, and they would receive a big time whooping. Unfortunately I was one of them (being the oldest) and my little brother was the other child. My sisters and I did not like the meal at the table at times and because we were forced to eat every bite we threw the food under the table. My little brother got blamed often for this, probably because it landed under his chair or because he might have thrown some there himself. Anyhow, my step dad (who I did believe loved us) would get upset and start spanking my brother. The problem is on bad days these spankings went into big time whippings and my little brother would end up with a bruised bottom. Twice I remember my little brother having to go to the hospital because he needed stitches in his nose due to abuse. I mainly got thrown up against the wall by the neck or hit with an object because I was older. This is my story, what may have started off as simple punishment can turn into abuse, parents be careful of the type of punishment you use on your children.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Jessica Lynn

by Jessica Lynn
(Location Undisclosed)

My foster sister Katie was abused until she came to live with us when she was 16. Katie was adopted as a baby and when she turned 13 her adoptive mom started to abuse her. There were times where she was knocked out cold, and she would wake up bleeding. She has a scar on the top of her head where her mom hit her with a shovel. If Katie did something "wrong" her punishment would be to read the bible in 2 hours and if she didn't her mom beat her with random objects from around the house. My sister had been through so much torture that when she came to live with us she was scared to break any rules and tried to stay out of peoples way, but then she notice how me and my real sister weren't abused at all. I remember the night she broke down and cried because we had saved her from the nightmare she had been living. I love her and she now has 4 sons of her own, and would never even think to do anything to harm them.



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Child Abuse Story From Simone1

by Simone
(Adelaide, South Australia)

My earliest memory of my abuse was when I was approx. 4yrs old. We were living on an isolated farm. There was 6 of us kids (me being the youngest) & I shared a room with 2 of my older sisters who were 5 & 6yrs old. My step father would sneak into our room at night & one by one, make his way through the room, fondling each of us & getting us to touch his 'private area' until he was relieved. As far as I can remember, we never said a word about it to each other or anyone else-He threatened that we would be seperated & taken away if we did. A couple of years later, we moved to the suburbs where, thankfully, the abuse stopped. However, the relationship between my parents was getting more strained & so, by the time I was 7, my step dad moved out to the other side of the city into a flat by himself. Our relief was only short lived as my mothers mental health deteriorated rapidly to the point where she became so extreme & erratic in her behavior that, we felt constant fear 24hrs a day. She soon began to beat the last three of us on a regular basis. It started out with just her hand on our backsides but soon turned into using wooden spoons & then pieces of furniture etc. I have a few very vivid memories of being knocked out by her after she slammed a door shut in my face & pushed a wardrobe over onto me. She then became even more sadistic & held thick, solid books up against our faces & punching HARD until we could hear the crack of our bones. This went on for years. All the while, she would take us to numerous churches where she would beg for forgiveness (never actually admitting to anyone what she had done) & then take us home & continue the cycle of abuse. She was also hopeless with money & we would often be starved for days on end. When this happened, she would take off to my step fathers flat for a week or two, getting spoilt with chocolates & whatever foods she wanted until I would go & get her & bring her home. I would be catching public transport, sometimes late at night at the age of 10 for the 2hr journey through the city to get her. Thankfully, I was never harmed while doing this. However, sometimes when my sisters would come with me, we would be forced to sleep for a night or two at the flat with my sisters out on the couch together & myself, mum & my step dad on his smelly old bed. In the mornings, my mother would get up ultra early & push me into the centre of the bed, next to him as she went off into the kitchen. I now KNOW that she did this purposely so that my step father would do what he wanted to me as payment for him giving us some food to take home.

When I was 15yrs old, I got a job & while still going to school, moved out into a flat by myself. It was extremely lonely after living in such a large family but, I was away from the neglect & abuse finally so, I survived. Unfortunately, within 2 months of leaving home, I was raped & tortured by a man who came to do maintenance on my flat. In the process, he damaged my insides to the point that it was believed I could never have children. I told no one but, a year after it happened, I finally opened up to my sister who inturn, told my mother. Her response was to put it all on herself & make it about her & how HER childhood was so much worse than mine & just basically lost the plot! The next week I was told that she was caught shoplifting & her excuse had been that it was because of what I told her that she just couldnt cope. She was let off completely & the look on her face was indescribable as she explained it to me! It was like she'd hit the jackpot of all excuses for any personal gain she had!

It took me many years & 3 serious suicide attempts for me to finally build up the courage to cut off my mother from my life completely. My step father died when I was 23 of multiple heart attacks & at his funeral, I was such a mess of emotions that, I got uncontrollable giggles & was threatened to be hit if I didnt stop by one of my older brothers! As we got older none of us siblings were able to maintain a relationship without the past being brought up & so now, not one of us keeps in contact with each other.
Many, many years of therapy, beginning to write my own life story & meeting my beautiful husband, have brought me to this point where I am now. I am safe, for the most part happy & best of all, miracle of miracles, 2 & 1/2 yrs ago, I gave birth via emergency C-section due to my scarring, to my beautiful, perfect little boy! From the moment he was in my arms, all of my past seised to exist in my conscious mind! He has healed me in more ways than I can ever imagine! Yes, I still have moments where my stomach screws up with anxiety & I wake from the odd nightmare but, its all manageable. Im still here, alive, in an extremely loving, supportive relationship & having the opportunity to be a parent. We have also begun the process to become foster parents too for other children from similar backgrounds & so the cycle of healing continues!

I will never be who I could have been without all of the abuse but, the person I am today BECAUSE of it, is someone who is able to feel complete empathy for those who have also been dealt that hand & to try to help them heal too.

My biggest advice to anyone else would be...Baby steps. Just take tiny little steps forward to heal yourself. Its alot more dealable than trying to overcome it all as a whole which in my opinion, is an impossibility.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From AJ1

by AJ
(Location Undisclosed)

My mom always would hit me throw things at me i was like 5 or 6...and i never knew my dad. like one time i was doing homework and my mom just smashed my hand with something like a hammer i thought it was broken but wasnt it was just badly messed up i had my older brother take care of it though he asked me what happend but i was too afraid to tell him so i just told him i fell and landed on my hand i knew he wouldnt believe it but it was all i could tell him...but he was out of the house almost everyday all day but when he comes home sometimes i try to go in his room with him and try to tell him but he tells me to get out i never allowed in his room i never have the chance to tell him even i try to tell him but he dont listen or dont want to listen and then like the next day when he went to school my mom told my school i was sick with flu but i wasnt i was really scared with what she was gonna do i was sittin on the chair trying to avoid her but she pulls my by my hair and slams my head to the wall and says "WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM" over and over but i always say "nothing i swear i didnt tell him anything" i got my face smashed on the wall again she lets me go but i stay on the floor and cry wishing i was like never born...then my mom throws me in the basment and leaves me there till my brother comes home 20minutes before he comes home and tells me to go to my room and tell him nothing and sometimes i try to get my mom proud of me and get her to like me all i wanted was her to love me like me for who i am like when i get a B+ on my school paper she'd always say im stupid for not gettin an A+ or im worthless for not doing things right and she made me say that in fron of a mirror all the time it happens so i began to feel that way I I didnt wanna tell my brother cuz i didnt know what whould happen if i told him when he leaves the house sometimes i beg to go with him but hes always saying "no" becuase im always "embarrassing" him so then i really did feel worthless i wasnt worth anything to anyone and when i was doing dishes my mom hit me on the back of the head with a frying pan and i fell then she put it on the table got down to my face and says "your nothing but a cry baby thats all youll do is cry cry cry," and it was true i guess but i got lucky she was about to hit me on the head again but my brother walked in the door i saw him open it but when he looked he slamed the door behind him to get us to notice him when my mom saw she told him I fell and she was picking me back up but i knew my brother he didnt believe it he would "play" stupid to make people think he belived them when he went up stairs to his room my mom pushed me down the stairs in the basment there wasnt that many stairs but it hurt me really bad so i just laid their and hoped she didnt come down i just closed my eyes hard i just laid there i never wanted to get back up it was really cold in the basement i did find some blakents though i just went to sleep and i guess i woke up an hour or later becuase i had a really bad headace i check and made sure my mom was sleeping then i went up to my brothers room and kinda cried to him about my head he just gave me meds for it he didnt even ask what happen i went to sleep in my bedroom and slept till 9am it was the weekend somewhere round my brother tho hes always out of the house. Now one time when i was 8 my mom told me to do the dishes like always but i never saw a knife in her hands she told me to get the dishes done or "something" is going to happen that time i was really scared i guess my hands were shaking soo much i couldnt even hold it the plates right but i droped one and it fell apart my mom got up and yelled at me and said "you idiot look what you did" all i did was just let out a wimping cry... she slapped me and then next thing i know im on the floor bleeding from the knife she stabbed me with but it was on my ribs so i was okay but it hurt soo much as always i cried my mom left the house i dont know where but she was gone for hours i was still laying on the floor bleeding when my brother came home around 11:00pm i guess he came in the house he couldnt see me cuz his room is up stairs in the living room i was in the kitchen there is a wall between it so he couldnt see me...i tried to call out to him but my voice was so weak and i couldnt move so i dont think he heard me i had hope he come in the kitchen but he was in his room for like awhile and i didnt wait anymore i crawled up stairs in his room there was soo much blood i didnt want my mom in jail so i told him i stabbed myself by mistake but he called the cops anyway i was half conscious then srs came in and found my mom she went to jail and i didnt want her in jail because i knew something would happen now...and srs said i could go live with my brother in a diffrent place with other foster parents i happily agreed but he got into fights soo much and messed up most the neighborhood and some of the town they said it wasnt safe for me to be around him i told them he never hit me or never did anything like that so me and him got split up i was in a foster home he was in some place i didnt know where at the time i felt very lonely i just wanted someone who loved me with me i knew my brother protected me thats why i wanted to be with him but i wanst able to see him for along time we were spilt apart for almost a year after that came i never saw my mother again but sometimes when i was really sad and lonely i would beg them to let me see him again but they wouldnt let me i do get lucky sometimes and saw him but never got to like talk to him but after almost a year i got to see him again and live with him...i was crying but i was happy but i was gonna miss my foster mother and father and foster brothers and sisters but i was happy and sad both but when i got with my brother we both moved to california i still dont feel very safe sometimes i fear my mom will find me and take me back again and i still cant get it out of my head im safe but i dont feel safe and i still have nightmares about it it never ends to me...but i havent seen my mom sence i was in foster care...




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Shannon D

by Shannon D
(New Jersey, USA)

Why does nobody take me serious? 
It took me awhile to come out and say what has happend to me and what is happaning to me but when i came out and tols someone i was so scared and was thinking to myself maybe i shouldent tell anyone about it but it was to late and i already told.after i told and difece came and then left as soon as they came and hey left me with nothing. they did not hellp me at all and just left me there all alone with the abuser and as soon as i started to gain some hope it got killed becaouse nothing happened and they closed the case and i was alone again with no hope.After my first time dealling with difece there were other insidents whare i got abused by the same person and i got difece involved again and i had to explain my story on how it happend and i was saying to myself in my head this is it i can no longer take anymore of it and this time i no there going to hellp me.but like the first time when difice came into my life as soon as i gained hope they did nothing and closed the case and left me all alone again.After this another insident happened with me and the abuser and he left many markes on me and i took pictures of it but had no hope on telling someone but took the pictures just incase the abuser did abuse me again and i had hope to tell someone once again i will have evidence that i am not making it up and they do believe me. and short after he abused me and i took the picture he abused me again and i had the curage and told myself i can not take this no longer so difice came into my life once again. i told them about the pictures i took from getting abused by him and she told me that it is not evidence becouase they do not know it was him becouase i never made a report about it when it happened and it could have been someone eles who did it to me and she did not even ask to see them.when i had a meeting with my abuser,difice,mom.and me she told me "i think that everyone gets hit in there life by there parent" and so they left as soon as they came once again left me there with no hope,not beliving me, not taking it serouce, leaving me with the abuser and doing nothing to hellp. so my qestion is when will they take it serious? when it gets realy out of hand and i die or have no choice but to go to the hospital.this is not a easy process, and it was hard for me to come out and talk about it but its even harder for people to actually lisoun and belive you and take you serious.i do believe something has to be done with the law about this that when a child tells a story to take it much more serious and when a abuser is put to jail they should be put for life to save the childs life forever and not have to worry about when he comes out they might come back for them.



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Child Abuse Story From Mickey

by Mickey
( Location Undisclosed)

My story is messed up. It's not as tragic or heartrending as some of the other testimonies here, but it is without a doubt perverted and messed up.

I grew up in a large Christian family. Two parents and twelve kids.. and we were all homeschooled. My dad was in the Air Force until I was about 10, so we moved around a lot during my childhood. Finally he retired and we settled down, and found a church with which we were all very involved. When I say we are a Christian family, I really mean it. We attend church services twice on Sunday, are involved in co-ops and youth groups, and those of us who are old enough to understand are born-again Christians.

I have two older brothers, one who is 1 1/2 years older than me (J), and one who is 6 years older than me(A). J was my best friend growing up. We were in the same grade, so we did all our school together, and when you're homeschooled and you only have one classmate, you get to be pretty good friends. He was always very athletic and sports-y, while I was geeky and nerdy. He was a leader and I was a follower. We did absolutely everything together, although I suppose he always saw me as a tag-along. I was in awe of him.

Growing up, we were very sheltered. VERY sheltered. I distinctly remember one time, when I walked into the room that my older brothers shared, they asked me, "Do you know how to spell 'sex?'" I said that I didn't, and they asked, "Do you even know what that is?"

Anyways, to make a long story short, A started molesting me. He never raped me, and he was always very gentle, and I never resisted, because I didn't know what was going on. I was very young, probably 7 or 8 I think. He would promise me candy and toys if I did what he wanted.

The same thing started happening with J a few years later, after A had stopped. He was much more malicious. After the first time, he threatened to tell my parents if I ever said anything about it. He was known to be very physical and violent when he was angry, and me being a weak girl, I was afraid of him. He continued molesting me for years, until I was 15. Somehow he kept up a clean exterior though, and the church people all love him and think he's the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Now I'm almost 17 and I have very mixed feelings about all this. A has long since apologized to, deeply and heartfeltly I believe, and I hold no grudge against him. He lives on the other side of the country and I am not expecting to have any contact with him for many years to come. J has recently moved out of my parents' home and went to college with his girlfriend. He never apologized and has even tried to bribe me with money, an iTouch, and clothes. This was while he was with his girlfriend, even! I know he is depraved and perverted, but I love him. I don't know how messed up that is, but I love him. I have never told anyone about what he did to me, and I don't plan on it, since he's more or less out of my life now. I keep hoping that he's turned over a new leaf and I don't want to mess that up for him by bringing up the past, but at the same time I feel like I should not have to keep this to myself. I don't know who I can tell though. My parents... I just don't want to. I just know that every time they would look at me, I would feel dirty, and I would never be able to get past that. Just about all of my friends are his friends too, and are good people. I don't want to ruin him in their minds, since he's gone from their lives mostly too. And I'm afraid that if I ever told a boy, friend or boyfriend, I would ruin any thought of their having a relationship with me. Who would want to be with someone who was molested as a child? They have every right to assume I'm messed up, and yet I'm not. I don't know why I'm not messed up, but I have no psychological disorders. I never got into alcohol, smoking, or drugs. I never cut myself or attempted suicide. I HAVE felt a lot of emotion - shame and guilt for not telling someone when this all began. In some ways, I think maybe I'm to blame, since I could have at least tried stopped it. But I just don't know.

Maybe I am messed up.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

I hope you'll follow me on:


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Child Abuse Story From M Ann

by M. Ann
(Little Rock, Arizona, USA)

I'm 23 years old. I was sexually abused by 2 different people in my life. The 1st was a son of the preacher at my grandparents church. The abuse began when I was 3 and went on til I was 8. I attempted suicide when I was 8. The 2nd was one of my 1st cousins. It started when I was 12 and went on for about 7 or 8 months.

I told my family about my cousin last year. They support me and I'm getting therapy right now. I have PTSD. My therapist believes me about everything and is very supportive of me. She's given me all these facts that are helping me to make sense of everything. I wish I'd told about the abuse before now.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Aiden1

by Aiden
(Location Undisclosed)

Darlene: 
I have to confess to having originally come to your web site some time ago as a result of my kinky fetish. However I went away feeling sick to the stomach with the stories I read. Maybe too close to home. So much so that for a long time I did not come back. Somehow reality has a way of waking me up! Anyway I decided to write some of my story and here it is. Given what sort of person I am, I do not know if you will publish it.

There are two reasons I am writing. First is a sort of cathartic effort on my part and the second is an attempt for me to understand my wife and this will hopefully become clear later in the message.

As a child I was forbidden to masturbate. The puberty talk had begun long before I reached puberty about how I would develop urges and feelings. Not knowing the strength of the emotional drive that accompanies puberty, I promised my parents faithfully that I would never ever masturbate. As puberty hit, I was constantly emotionally torn between resisting the pressure and then giving in and masturbating and then confessing to my parents. Or being caught in the act. They used words like "supporting me" and "working with me" to control my self. From my early teens, I was constantly supervised. I was not allowed any privacy. I had to leave my bedroom door open and the night light on. At night, they would stand in the darkened hall way where they could see me but I could not see them. I never knew when they were watching. I was OK with this. They were helping me. Even when I went to the toilet, I had to leave the door partially open and likewise when showering, the door had to be left open. One of my parents would often come into the bath room and watch me shower. If I was weak and masturbated then I would confess or be caught. Either way I was paddled. I was paddled time and time again for being weak.

Because I did not get release through masturbation, I had wet dreams. They were incredibly strong vivid dreams of a very sexual nature and I would waken with my pjs wet and sticky right up my chest. I had to recount these dreams to my parents and we would pray for the strength to resist this temptation. I was not punished for these dreams although if my parents thought I was lying, then I would be punished for lying and lusting. Anyway I was a truthful child I do not recall lying. But they would question me in depth and detail. "Did I even once try and rub my self"? We tried lots things to help control this. As it normally happened in the early morning I would be woken and made to have a cold shower. I remember standing, shivering and sobbing in the cold water being watched by one parent or the other until my erection went down. Trying to manage this daemon became an almost all of life thing. We tried having me wear underwear at night and tucking my penis so that it was facing backwards. At other times we would then add a large number of pairs of underpants so that not only could I not get an erection because my penis was facing backward, I would not even be able to handle myself because of the layers of clothing. Mind you because of the difficulty of removing all of these layers, I ended up wetting the bed which further eroded my self esteem and my parents reacted by expressing their disappointment. Even going to the point of making me wear diapers which fulfilled the requirement to limit access to my penis and reinforcing my childish lack of self control and dependence on them. This was in the 1970s and there were no disposable diapers. I had to wear a cotton babies diaper folded and stuffed down the front of my underpants and pair of plastic pants over the top. A plastic sheet was used to protect the mattress and especially in summer it was hot, sticky and noisy and was a further reminder to lie still in bed as any rhythmic movement was like an alarm bell to my parents and a reminder to me to lie still.

So here I am in my forties with kinky interests and spending my time surfing the internet looking for soft porn and stories of abuse. That was how I came to your web site some time ago. Sorry.

By the time I was 16 this was a full on battle between me and the daemon. I both loved and hated my parents at the same time as they supported me. By this time I considered my self weak as I was unable to control the urges on my own and I was wetting the bed pretty much continuously. At some stage I had been either been caught masturbating or had simply confessed after the act of doing it while I was doing my home work. I don't remember actually. From then on though the diaper had to be on before I sat down to do my homework which had to be done sitting at a table in the corner of our lounge room where my parents could watch me. I had to ask if I could use the bath room and one of them would often accompany me and wait while I went to the toilet. Having someone watch you while you go to the toilet and just carrying on a conversation with you was just so embarrassing. Physical weakness had to be countered with physical punishment. Any lapse meant stripping naked in front of them and then bending over and being paddled. As well as the physical pain there was the utter and total humiliation of standing naked in front of two fully dressed adults. I was of course supposed to fear the punishment so much that I would overcome the physical desire to masturbate. And after every punishment I would vow never to succumb again but usually within a month I had had a lapse and been punished again. Sometimes I would lapse and not report it but then guilt would build inside and I would confess or I would lapse again and get caught. Mornings were the time of greatest temptation and there was always the fear that I would be weak when going to the bathroom when my parents were asleep so I was not allowed to relieve myself until they had arisen. This meant lying in bed absolutely desperate to pee and eventually just wetting myself. I do not know if there is anything more demoralizing than wetting yourself. It is even worse than waking up wet. In addition, the plastic pants would inevitably leak and so I would spend the last hours of many nights lieing in a cold clammy wet bed with wet night clothes.

So that is the story of my youth. I lived at home while I attended college and the struggle continued although sometime while I was at college, my parents eased off. I think though too that I had in a way learned to abstain. I do still have a calender from when I was 22, that has a green tick on each day of abstinence and a big black X for a lapse and it has a green tick on every day except one which as the black cross. Abstinence for almost a whole year!.

There is more to my story. I am now married with children and this is where the subject of the story changes somewhat. My eldest child, a boy, is now eleven and my wife suggested that I give him the talk. Now the physical aspect of puberty and respect for girls and all that I am OK with but I felt somewhat inadequate to discuss masturbation with him. So I thought I would discuss it with my wife to try to ensure that I took a more balanced approach with him than my parents did with me. Now she does not know the detail of my upbringing that I have given you above. She does know that I struggled with it and that my parents did not want me to engage in it but nothing of the detail. So one evening recently after the kids were in bed I said to her that I wanted to talk with her about what I would say to our son. I had bought a book to give him but upon reading it, to my surprise, it did not even mention it. Not that I could find anyway. Now my wife had a fairly conservative up bringing and to my knowledge does not have a kinky bone in her body. Sex between us is enjoyable but what I would describe as traditional. Usually I initiate it and that starts usually a day in advance with making sure the house is clean and tidy and so on. Kids are occupied or better at friends places and we are home alone or I book us a hotel and we go on a holiday without the kids for a day or two and go to a concert or the theater.

So you can see I am somewhat surprised when discussing the proposed talk with her, that when I get to the topic of masturbation, she tells me that she rubbed her self a few times but once she realized what it was she was doing, that she stopped. She said she knows that boys have much more pressure than girls in this area.

As you may imagine, I am now very interested. Here I am having the conversation with my wife on the very topic that I waste hours on the net in search of. So I have to confess that I did then lead her off a bit and say well we could forbid him from masturbating. She says that she thinks clear boundaries are what is best and then says that we would have to be vigilant and that punishment may be what it takes for him to control him self.

So hear I am confessing my secret failings. (BTW, I think I will just give him the book and say read it and let me know if you have any questions and hope he does not ask about masturbation)

Thanks for listening.
Aiden




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Melanie1

by Melanie
(USA)

I can't remember my childhood, well anything before 11. My grandfather died of cancer when I was 12, after that everything fell apart. My parents lost their house so we had to move into an apartment across town. Things were okay at first, I guess you could say. We were normal, and "happy". The abuse started when I was 13, I'd get yelled at for silly things, like forgetting to turn the light off when I left the bathroom or leaving my boots in the livingroom instead of on the shoe rack. I don't know why my dad was always so angry, he once told me how he was abused as a child...but all that made me think was "wouldn't he know what it's like? why would he want us to feel that way?". Maybe it's his way of revenge. He'd hit my brother and I, over anything that made him mad. If my brother mouthed off to him, he'd hit him in the face... more than once. He once left bad bruises. It's happened all too many times to recall every single time and why it happened. I can remember a couple... like when I went to the park and he told me not to, I came home that night and he took off his belt and hit me in the legs four or five times. I cried, not because it hurt physically, but because I was angry. I was angry at him for hurting me, I was angry at myself for making him mad, and most of all I was angry at my mother for letting him do it while she just sat and watched. I also remember when I was doing my hair for school and I didn't put the oil away that was left in the bathroom for some reason. My dad told me to put it away and I said I was busy and would do it in a second. I didn't notice it made him mad until he came into the bathroom and grabbed me by my hair, flung me around, stood me in front of him and screamed in my face. I don't remember what he was screaming, probably the same things he says every time it happens. "You think you're big? You think you're grown? I'll show you what it's like to be grown." Because being able to take hits from a 40 year old, 250 lb man was a way to become grown. My mother was afraid of him, I don't blame her for what happened to me but I also don't excuse her for not doing anything about it. I wanted her to help me, I'd ask for her to divorce him and we could just leave... she didn't have the money and she had no family to go to besides us. So I was stuck. I lived there up until I was 18. I graduated high school at 17, moved out a month after I turned 18. I haven't talked to my father or my mother since and I'm now 23 with my own little boy to raise. I look at him and all the silly little mistakes that he makes... and I could never imagine hurting him. I think about it sometimes, and what my life would be like if it had never happened. If we had been a "normal" family... I guess I'll never know what it's like to have parents that love you, but I know that my little boy will and that's what makes it better.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Caroline1

by Caroline
(USA)

I have been a grammar school teacher now for almost 11 years. Four times I have reported child abuse by being able to have the kids tell me about it. Three were girls and 1 was a boy. One case was physical abuse the other three sexual abuse. I get very upset and angry even when I just read or hear about it. For years I hid the fact that I was sexually abused but today openly admit it and feel I can sense if one of my students are being mistreated at home. Each month I devote some classroom time to tell the kids not to be afraid to tell a teacher or clergyman if they are being abused. I try to warn them about sexual abuse also, instructing them to tell a parent and never have fear to tell me or another teacher if it happens. Without scaring them I want them to know that they don't have to keep silent as I did for many years.

Through no fault of my own I was passed around to different family members up until I was about 6. My father died a few years earlier and my mother signed guardianship over to my godfather who was a family friend for years. The first year or so I don't remember too well but was treated nice by both he and his wife. By the time I was 8, they separated and divorced. It was just me and Kirk after that and he always treated me nice and was always good to me. I'm not quite sure when it began but it happened slowly. At first it was just nudity and he exposed himself to me frequently and would have me bathe with him. There was always some kind of bribe involved whether it be a simple treat or a promise to a movie or amusement park. It slowly escalated where we were naked for hours at a time. He made me swear a pact with him not to tell anyone about it. To be honest I don't remember ever being embarrassed around him at that time. I was probably around 10 when it got to be a sexual thing even though we were both naked often and showered together. He more than likely had it planned out the way he was going to manipulate me.

I was so accustom to seeing him naked and him seeing me that way. I had no inhibitions about it. I was not humiliated that he saw me naked so often but was too embarrassed about it to tell anyone. We showered together every evening and it just became natural to me. It started out where we just washed each other's backs but gradually began washing each other completely. He would often get erections but I didn't realize what that meant at the time. Eventually he started having me masturbate him. As I got older I knew what I was doing and knew it was wrong but still told no one. The older I got the more attention he paid to me and I told him I didn't want to do this any longer. That's when he began badgering me at times and had me so intimidated I became afraid to disobey him. He began spanking me, at times making me undress. By this time I was in puberty and more self conscious about my body. If I disobeyed him he would not only spank me but make me stay naked for hours at a time and on a few occasions an entire weekend.

He threatened me often stressing that my home life was private and I was not to tell anyone about it. When I think back about it now I was so intimidated by him I never had the thought of telling anyone what was going on. The less I complained the nicer he was to me and as long as I did what I was told life was much easier. He did still spank me at times but never really hurt me badly and I think it was done for his sexual satisfaction. As I developed I became more humiliated when he saw me naked especially in the shower. He always washed me first and then I would have to wash him. He would have me masturbate him 4 or 5 times a week and sometimes every evening. It started to become more intimate and he began giving me massages a few times a week. That's when he began masturbating me. This went on for months and he finally had intercourse with me. It was a Tuesday evening and I think the most devastating thing that I had ever been through. I don't think I slept more than a couple hours that night and cried most of the night. When I went to school the next day I would start crying right in class. By lunchtime my teacher took me into a classroom by myself and started to question me, knowing something was wrong. After about ten minutes or so I told her what happened the night before incredibly asking her not to tell anyone. In all of my 13 years it was the best thing I ever did. Kirk was arrested later that day and I was sent to a child welfare group home. My grandmother was contacted and within a few months I was taken in by my mother's cousin, Kate and her husband.

From that time on I have had a happy life. I'm married today and have two children and a wonderful husband. The teacher I told saved my life and I think that's one of the reasons I decided to become a teacher. I was foolish to keep quite all those years but do understand how I was programmed by Kirk. He did admit what he did and spent several years in prison, not only for abusing me but he was also in possession of child porn. I was extremely introverted for a few years but have learned to accept what happened and not blame myself. Each month when I do my little speech to my students I write on the blackboard, in huge letters, only three words....TELL, TELL, TELL... The fear or embarrassment of telling someone about abuse only prolongs it. Anyone who abuses a child should go to jail. As much as I kept silent those years, today I am not the least bit embarrassed or ashamed of it. I know it wasn't my fault and am just happy I finally told on him. I think your web site is very informative and am sure it has helped many people cope with the abuse they suffered.




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Child Abuse Story From Rachel C

by Rachel C
(Dayton, Texas, USA)

Sexual Abuse: 
It all started when i was 5.when my mom had to give me up to my dad. i thought it was all ok fun and stuff. i was spending time with my brothers and having lots of fun. but at night my dad would make me sleep in his bed and i did not no why. but after i had been there for about 6 months he started to put his hand down by my privet. then befor i new it he was hurting me by putting his fingers inside of my privet and i would tell him to stop and he would not. after i got used to him doing that it just got worse he would make me put his privet in my mouth and told me that it felt good and i did not no what to do.that went on for about 2 years and then one night he put his privet inside of mine and this went on for 3 more years till i told my aunt and we told the cops and all and he is still a free man and i even told the cops were he was at and they did not even look for him.
this is my story
rachel c.




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Child Abuse Story From Suz

by Suz
(USA)

I am a 36 year old female. My brother was 34. When we grew up my dad was very bad to us. He was a typical bully. We were called stupid and worthless and he threatened to kill us a lot. We tried to keep him in a good mood all the time. We had to do everything perfect and act busy our whole growing up lives. My mom my brother and I were always too scared to turn him in or leave because we thought he would kill us all. He wasn't always bad, but when he was bad it was bad.

I feel old, I can't believe I have to be on one of these sites now...I've had a lot of counseling. My dad never really hit me, he would just chase us and tell us he would kill us- you stupid sob...etc...but he hit my brother a lot. One time my mom and i came home and my brother was all bruised up on his face and neck like my dad had choked him. I originally got on here to try to find out if my brother could have passed out when my dad did that to him. He was only about 12 or 13 years old. My brother killed himself last month by hanging. He had anxiety forever and since this has happened I am always at 20 years ago, when we were about 14.

I thought this stuff was just old crap that we got over, but now everything is very raw and it's like it all does matter now. I don't want to be around my dad at all. I don't want to forgive him just because he is old. I'm innately still scared of him. I don't really care if he kills himself (albeit, he cries about this happening with my brother). But I don't want to comfort him at all. Even though he hasn't acted bad to us because we don't go around him and we have our own lives now, since we were about 20 and left the house. I'm still saying we (like my brother is still alive)...I still get counseling and am on suicide grief sites etc.

It also makes me kind of mad that it's like my counselor takes our past more serious now that my brother killed himself. I can't believe this is my life.

I miss my brother so much, he was an excellent, neat person. I would rather have my brother here than my dad, that is for sure. :(

thanks for listening




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Kelsea2

by Kelsea
(Location Undisclosed)

My life has never been picture perfect. When I was four, my mother and father always were fighting. I remember the "one" fight that changed everything. It was in the afternoon, my mother and father were in the kitchen, and I heard a slam. I went to the kitchen, only to find my mother slammed against the fridge and my father viciously slapping her. Quickly, I yelled stop, stop! My father just kept going. I ran to the phone, doing what my grandparents had told my brother and I to do, because they had suspected this type of abuse. I called 911, only a few words I said. "My daddy is beating up my mommy!" I heard the operator's voice, but I can never remember what they said. I hid under a lamp table, until I heard someone walking through the living room. I saw my father carrying my mother's things. I chased after him quickly as he proceeded to throw them in the yard. I picked as much as I could up, and walked into the kitchen to put it on the table, only to chase after it again. The process continued until the police came. My father was arrested and I don't remember much after that.

My parents got a divorce. Soon, my mother met a new man. He was a biker type guy. He had tattoos all over his body and was an alcoholic. He showered my brother and I in presents constantly. He even bought us a new house. He had already been through a couple of marriages and had about a dozen children. Most of them, he didn't really see, but the ones he did, were nuts. My mom and her boyfriend would party all the time, leaving me with my brother and my mom's boyfriend's kids. They would always throw me against something, a wall or a couch, or the floor. They were always violent. I remember specifically, one time. One of them pulled me into my closet, he pulled his pants down. Me, being only six, I said what is that. He asked if I wanted to touch it or soemthing. He made me touch him and he touched me, and he made me do other things.

The word got out about what he had done to the other brothers, so they took turns. My own brother even did it. It was scary.

I kept being abused by my mom and her boyfriend, and again by my mom's boyfriend's kids. My mom and her boyfriend told me all these awful things. They told me I was a mistake. They even cussed me out, a lot. It kept going on until I as six. (two years)

One night, all of us were put on a moving truck and we went to Missouri. I didn't know what was going on. (Later on, I found out we were running from the law)

One day, my grandparents came and got my brother and I. My brother went to his dad. And, I went to my grandparents.

Six years later, my mom and her boyfriend moved back to my brother and I. The two of them got married. (same boyfriend)

I'm 15 now, and my stepdad's son, still asks me to do this. I thought it was okay, I thought none of it was wrong because no one had ever told me what had happened to me was wrong. I stopped it though after four times. I wanted to stop after the first, but my step brother refused to listen to me. However, I let myself get out of control. My cousin and I, had a few little touchings. ..I thought it was right. I stopped that too!

I realized all of this is wrong, I asked God for forgiveness. I let my emotional wreck self, almost abuse someone else. I'm not an abuser, I'm stopping this cycle.

I still find it hard to cope everyday, I have never told anyone any of this.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Laura4

by Laura
(Location Undisclosed)

I am 42 was abused by my father physically emotionally and my father was sexually abusing my older sister whom I shared a bedroom with. I dont know if I was sexually abuse cant remember atleast not by him. but my older sister sexually abused me she was doing to me what my dad did to her. I only can remember bits and pieces. maybe i dont want to remember.

I just separted from my husband 2 days ago second marriage...I seem to pick men that are like my father mainly controlling men who are emotionally abuse not physical or sexual. but I would rather be beaten this emotional abuse is horrible.

I am reaching out trying to find help a support group. I have been in counseling in and out since in my 20's just when you think your better and you can move on with your life thats really not true.

My mother worked all the time to stay away from the abuse she left us with him. she tried to leave him a couple of times but he would just threaten to kill someone. i remember one time he beat my mom so bad we took pictures but never did anything about it. My dad was a police officer and my mom was too scared.

I am doing what my mom did leaving my kids with my husband now. they stay in their rooms all day never come out only to go to the bathoom. I realized this. I am so dysfunctional. poison to not only myself but to people I love.

I am having alot of difficulties trying to forget. I can still hear my sister crying on the top bunk bed and me laying on the bottom bunk scared to breathe or move so afraid he was going to get me next. I am confusing sex for love this is why my relationships fail.

please help me are there any groups that I can go to orlando tampa wherever I will go I need help.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Lyn-Dee

by Lyn-Dee
(Canada)

From as far back as I can remember, which is not that far at all, I have suffered severe verbal, emotional and some physical abuse by my mother. She used to belittle me constantly. Has made me hate myself by pointing out my physical features that she hates about me, and the fact that I have learning disabilities.

My father left us when I was 2 years old and my mother I feel had took it out on me. The loss of her freedom and the fact that I am a spitting image of my father.

I was constantly yelled at and picked on for any and everything you can imagine. I recall one incident when I was yelled at and interrogated for blinking my eyes too much. When I was a baby my mother said that I was not a happy baby and that I didn't like to be held. Well no wonder!

This is really awful and obscene to reveal but when I was about eight or nine I did something that displeased her and she told me, "When your father was getting me he slipped and got me in the ass so that's why we call you shit." She seemed so proud about that remark.

Once when my sixth grade teacher told my mother that she has to help me with my math homework, and she did try to help me, and here is where my learning disabilities come into play, she told my visibly stunned teacher that if he makes her try to teach me math ever again she would kill us both. Once I remember that I did something she didn't like and she pinned me up against the wall with my throat clutched in her hands and she squeezed hard enough to make me wheeze. I spent my whole childhood hiding in my bedroom with my radio playing C.K.L.W and my true crime books. I often question sexual abuse too because of my distaste at my grandfather grabbing my bottom as I went up the stairs before the age of 5. All I remember was that it was funny at first and I laughed but as time went on and he didn't stop I refused to climb stairs in front of him anymore. There is a lot of my childhood that is blank. I must have blocked out a good portion of my life. My grandmother used to take me in a baby stroller to the neighborhood bar and drink the afternoon away. She always went and bought me a few toys first to keep me amused. I was all of two or three and I knew all the bar flies there. Wonder if I was sexually abused there.

I would give anything to be able to remember my babyhood and childhood up to of eight.

I held my grandmother's gun to my head in front of her bedroom mirror at the age of twelve because I couldn't take it anymore. But I said eff this, I'm gonna live and make your life a living hell like you do me.

But of course I did no such thing.

When I was 15 I quit school and moved out. I never lived in my mother's house ever again except for one month at age nineteen when my apartment wasn't ready yet and I was a new mom myself. And can you guess what happened when I was there? She came at me one day after I had the audacity to drip water from the bottom of my glass on her precious rug. She came after me and I pushed her away, the first time I ever lifted a hand to her and I told her, "I am a mother now and I will not let you abuse me anymore." She seemed shocked but kept her distance.

At the age of 36 I moved to Canada and never seen or talked to her again. She passed on in 2005 and I read her obituary in the paper and I felt absolutely nothing.

This was an abridged version of my story. There is much more to tell. Among the funniest is when I was five and in kindergarten, all the kids had to tell about there pets. I told my stunned class my dogs name was Satan. Yes, my mother worshiped the devil and had an altar in one of our closets.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Aly

by Aly
(USA)


His name was Jeff. He wasn't an alcoholic, drug addict, maniac, or psychologically unstable. He was your average middle class man. The whole community respected him. He was a cop, known for giving the shirt off his back to complete strangers. Little did those strangers know what happened behind the closed doors of his house. Yes, it was his house. A house me and my brother were priveledged to live in. We had to work hard for our keep, nothing was ever just given, especially love. Jeremy was my brother, and it seemed he had to work the hardest of all. My father wanted us to understand that he was boss, tyrant, our last hope of ever becoming anything in this world. My brother accepted that, and so my father made him work harder, because his son was a "hillbilly" and needed to be taught everything the hard way. I never accepted. I had something my father called my "fire". It was his one goal to extinguish it. He used to love using the line "This is a dictatorship, not a democracy." to which I would reply, "All dictatorships end in rebellion." To my father, I was a "great waste of flesh and air." The bruises marked me for what I was, a failure. My father treated us like criminals he would arrest. We did what he said or we were punished. We no longer had rights. My mother was often gone. She would spend the night at hotels or with a friend. When she came home, the pain in her eyes was so terrible that we did not wish to look at her, anymore than she wished to look at us. We were a broken family. The only part that was a whole was me and my brother. I looked out for him, even though I was younger by 2 years. When he gave up, its as if he lost all will to live, all will to avoid the beatings. I always saw them coming, and often tried to say something to distract my father and get me in trouble instead, but it was never enough. My brother suffered the same as or worse than me, and it was my fault. I should have stopped it. I hadn't given up, I could have told someone. When the librarians would ask me where my bruises were from, I should have told them the truth, not that I was a clutz and fell from trees, ran into doors, tripped on stairs, etc. I would get punished for everything I did, he didn't like me singing, he didn't like me playing with toys, didn't like me doing anything but cleaning my room. He once made me and my brother an hour late for school because he refused to let us leave until we cleaned our rooms, which were already spotless. This lasted all my life, until I was 12, and we left, stayed in a shelter for abused women and children, then with my aunt, and then moved around for the next 3 years until we finally found a house. We can't afford much and don't have alot of space, but we are together and we are happy. I'm 15 now and would give anything to go back and change the suffering my brother went through, but in a way, my abuse made me who I am. It shouldn't have ever happened, but because of it, now I know how cruel life can be, but also how beautiful...




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: During the week of February 15 - 21, 2010, I will not be able to comment on story submissions, as I will be attending a conference in Atlanta with only limited online access time.
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Child Abuse Story From Zack For My Girlfriend

by Zack
(Location Unknown)

My GF told me that she has been abuse sexually when she was 10 and NEVER told anyone (but me). I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!!! I want her to tell her MOM & DAD but she is SOOO scared. AND I dont know who to tell, a therapist or her mom & dad. And I want to boost her confidence so she can tell her MOM & DAD.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Kiwi

by Kiwi (not real name)
(Indiana, USA)

My mother and me live in the same house as my aunt. she has pulled my hair once. she also once said very threating things to me, and i would lay there bleeding emotional inside. im still scared when my mom leaves the room (it has stopped: she was sick) she takes care of me...but i still m scared to death and all i want is to get out...but im afraid that if someone did find out then she would trick them and then do something horrible to me...even while im writing this at school im scared to death that some one will find out...ive thought about suicide but have stopped thinking it.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Elysee

by Elysee
(Location Undisclosed)

This happened when I was about 6 years old and my brother was 3. We were all alone since the morning and the babysitter never showed up. It was now late at night and I knew better than to go to the neighbors for help or call the police; this would embarrass my family and I was never to do that under any circumstances. Besides, if I had gone to the neighbors, they wouldn't have believed me. My mother had told the neighbors that my brother and I were problem children and we tend to lie to get attention and ignoring us would help us get better.

My brother had fell asleep in front of the TV and I covered him with a blanket. It was late at night, way past my bedtime, but I was too scared to go to sleep. I went through the house making sure that every door and window was locked and closed all the curtains. I kept hearing noises and was afraid that someone was trying to break in, but it was only my mind playing tricks on me. At some point I had fell asleep because my brother was shaking me awake. "I'm hungry" he said holding his stomach.

We had to get some food. I looked through all the drawers in the house for some money, but I could only find some loose change that would maybe buy us a few pieces of candy. Suddenly I had an idea. "I'm going to walk to the store and you need to stay here" I told my brother sternly. "Do not open the door for anyone but me okay" He nodded his head. "I'll get us some food and I will be back as fast as I can" I hugged him.

"What if you don't?" he whimpered.

I knew what he meant "I will come back; you know that I wouldn't leave you." He nodded again. I walked out of the house and locked the door behind me and hoped that my plan would work.

I didn't want anyone from the neighborhood to see me so I ran the whole way to the store which was about a mile away. The grocery store was in an upscale strip mall, there was a bank, liquor store, florist etc. It was around lunch time and the parking lot was full as I weaved in and out of the parked cars looking for what I needed.

Found one! I picked up a piece of paper lying on the ground; it was a grocery receipt. I looked on the list for some things that we could eat.

There were a couple of times that I had remembered that my mother had left a bag of groceries or a couple of items were not in the grocery bag when she got home, at the store. She would go back to the store, show them the receipt and they would give her the items. I knew if I could find some receipts lying around the parking lot I could do the same thing and just tell them my mother sent me.

My family lived in a very affluent area and the grocery store patrons were mainly wealthy people. Nobody took much notice of a six year old little girl wandering around the parking lot picking up bits of paper; it was as though I was almost invisible. A few snobby old biddies gave me a look of disgust as they got into their fancy Cadillacs or Mercedes. I am sure they were thinking that I was some impoverished child from the "wrong side of the tracks" invading their upper class sanctum.

After finding several more receipts I choose one that had milk, cereal, bread and some other stuff that we could eat and I walked into the store. I had been in there many times with my Nana and Mother, so quite a few of the clerks knew me. I saw a man that I knew and walked up to him.

"Excuse me" I said politely to him.

Turning around he looked down and immediately recognized me and gave me a big smile "Where's your mother or grandmother sweetie" Did you lose them?" he chuckled.

"No, my mom's waiting in the car" I lied "She was here earlier this morning and when she got home she was missing some things from the grocery bag" I tried to keep my voice steady "so she sent me in here to get them for her" I hoped he would believe me.

"What items is she missing"" he said and took the receipt from me. I kept the list small, just a few items to feed us until my mother came home tonight. Without question, he walked through the aisles and got me the food and put it into a bag. "Please tell your mother I am sorry for the inconvenience" he smiled and handed me the bag.

"Thank you, I will" I pasted on a fake smile and skipped out the door.

Keeping to the sidewalk I checked to make sure that no one was going to grab me for doing this and then started running. I was shaking so badly that I thought I was going to pass out as I waited for the light to change so to get across the busy avenue. I leaned against the light pole at the crosswalk trying to catch my breath. The light changed and I forced myself to move, as I stepped down from the curb I fell, and some of the groceries fell out of the bag. I looked up and saw that a couple of drivers saw me, but no one got out to help. I collected the groceries and stood up, I had skinned my knee and blood was dripping down my leg. I closed my eyes for a moment and wished that someone, anyone would rescue me.

Suddenly I heard a voice call out to me from a car! My wish was granted! Somebody was going to help me! "Hey girl!" a woman yelled out her window at me. I looked at her with gratefulness and before I could reply she spoke again. "Hey you! She snapped at me "move or you're going to block traffic!" The mean look on her face terrified me; ignoring the pain and blood I ran across the road as fast as I could to get away from her. I didn't stop running until I turned down my street that ended in a cul-de-sac. Finally I made it up to the front door and rang the door bell.

"Open the door. It's me!" I called out to my brother. The front door had a window that was covered by a curtain, I saw it move and my brother peeked out and quickly opened the door. He hugged me tight "I was scared you were gone" he said through tears.

"I told you I would come back. It's okay now, I got us some food" I said and opened the grocery bag to show him.
"I'm hungry" he whined

"I will make you something to eat" I said as I walked into the kitchen. I stopped as I saw that there was a mess in the middle of the floor. It looked like blood!

I started to panic, but then saw a ketchup bottle on the counter. "You were eating plain ketchup?" I questioned him.

"I was hungry" he said sheepishly.

"It's okay I'll clean it up after we eat."

"You're bleeding!" my brother yelled at me. I had forgotten about the pain and blood. It was just a scrape and the blood was already dried.

I told my brother I fell, but it didn't hurt and quickly took a towel and wet it to wipe away the blood. "See?" I said cheerfully "all better". I quickly made us big bowls of cereal with milk and some toast with some marmalade jam that was in the fridge.

My mother finally called and called me a liar that the sitter never came and came home later that day to beat me.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From PTSD Survivor

by PTSD Survivor
(Location Undisclosed)

Lost Childhood: 
I didn't remember much of my childhood for most of my life. Occasionally I did remember incidents that seemed to me strange. I would get a flash of sitting in a pick-up truck talking to my mom's boyfriend and he was telling me the strangest things. Something about mom being taken away if I told of something that we did in the truck. It was confusing to remember this, like, why would he be telling me such strange things? It didn't occur to me what he was talking about till I reached my 40's and started to remember more. I thought I was going crazy. I kept having horrific flashbacks and nightmares that I would awaken from soaked in a cold cold sweat. Some of my nightmares involved not being able to breathe and others, helplessly watching as a little blonde girl screamed in terror and pain. At first I didn't know who she was, that is till I dated a man with a young daughter. OMG! She was the exact duplicate of my best friend when I was 5-6 years old! It (my memories), came back in flashes, like watching a movie that you can't take your eyes from. The first was of the blonde girl on a man's lap, she was screaming even though a hand covered her mouth, and she was sideways. I could feel something on the side of my face that wasn't there. I came to understand that what I saw was my friend being abused. I was hiding under the covers with the pillow on my head. That's why to me, she was sideways. The flashes and nightmares became worse, so much so I eventually stopped dating the man. That didn't change anything though, I continued to remember things I didn't want to. Like the very first time he raped me. He was babysitting me while mom worked the nightshift. I was 3 or almost 3.(I was 5 when I saw him attack my friend, we were on a camping trip and the bunks were across from each other). When I was 4 he started beating my mother up regularly, he would often threaten to kill her and just before she finally left him, he almost did. Mom didn't leave him till then though, I was 6 and saw it all. I saw him rape my mother and put a knife to her ample belly and threaten to cut the baby out, but then he changed his mind when a scream came from somewhere (was it me?), and he put the knife to her throat. To this day mom still has the scar on her neck - he drew blood and I ran out the backdoor but my little legs weren't fast enough and he caught me in the driveway. I don't remember what happened next. There are so many fragmented memories like this that continue to haunt me. They're always with me lingering in the background taunting me that I'll never be normal, but I won't let him destroy me, what's left. I have a great therapist now that has helped me enormously to cope with the anxiety attacks that seem to come from nowhere, the flashbacks of horrible sights, nightmares of children screaming, insomnia bouts that last for days, and the days agoraphobia takes hold. I live with all these and then some but I'm getting stronger every day, I tell myself he can't hurt me now. That it wasn't my fault, or Mom's. The hardest of all was to understand the rage I had towards my mother. I learned how it was easier for the 6 year old child I was to be angry at her than the scary abuser...I want others to know they can heal too. That there is nothing wrong in surviving the nightmare. A nightmare that unfortunately is shared by so many....




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Brenda

by Brenda
(Location Undisclosed)

Everyday I live in pain. I distrust about everyone but my husband. It took me 10 years to trust my husband. You see I was terrorized by my dad and the support from my mom was her telling me, "He didn't mean it", and my sister was a bully to me. The only vivid things I remember of my childhood was being blamed for everything that went wrong. I would always say I just don't understand what I did wrong. The following is what I endured. My father would come home beat me with a belt buckle in a rage, his face beet red and yelling at me that he was going to kill me. I remember I stopped eating for a couple of weeks when I was about 7 years old because I thought he was going to poison me. I use to sneak out to the fridge in the middle of the night and only eat at school. Some days when I knew he was coming home I would hide under my bed or on top of my huge toy chest in my closet. The beatings happened several times a week between the ages of 4 - 11. The mental abuse that happened to me was when I would say a word wrong, read incorrectly or something that I thought of that he didn't agree with, he would hit me in the head and call me stupid and my sister would laugh at me. My sister had to take care of me at times and she would always threaten me by saying she would tell on me or leave me somewhere. I remember one time I was in 6th grade and my sister was in tenth. She wanted to buy a new dress because a boy asked her to the prom. She only had her chorus dress to wear. I made the fatal mistake asking my dad why can't you buy her a new dress. He picked me up and threw me across the room, up against the wall. I wasn't the only one verbally abused. I would have to hear him constantly tell my mom to shut up and then tell her she didn't know anything. My sister and my dad always had this odd bond. It always appeared that my dad treated my sister as his companion. Taking her out places leaving my mom and me home. Their relationship continued like that until my sister died last year only at the age of 54. She suffered from severe depression all her life. She told me she had regrets allowing my father to manipulate her into believing he could not live with out her. I must say though he didn't treat my sister with respect either. She had a different form of abuse. I tried killing myself when I was 16 years old. I moved out of the house when I was 18. My mom has since passed away. It is only my father and I left. We have an uncomfortable relationship. The one thing I am regretting now in my life at the age of 51 is that I still am looking for a father in him that is nurturing, loving, understanding, and willing to listen. But I know he will never be that. Throughout my life I have experienced negative thoughts of my past, like a movie running over and over again and again in my mind, causing me so much pain and anger. I want to be free, I want to forget, I want to be happy, I want to trust people, I want to enjoy life. I pray and hope that all these good things will happen for me. I must say that I am grateful that I have a good life with my husband and I have a good job and even some friends but I just don't feel joy inside. I remember crying myself to sleep every night as a child and saying to myself "Tomorrow will be a better day." I think that is what got me through those years. Now I'm saying to myself I deserve to be truly joyful. Right now I just don't feel it. I have tried forgiving my family and at times that brought me peace but to this day he seems to find a way to hurt me. Thank you for allowing me to write my thoughts down. I will continue to search for true joy.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Rynn

by Rynn
(USA)

My story starts when i was 4, i was left to raie my baby bother,my mom choose drugs over us,and my dad choose discpline and alcohol,he would hit me when i wasnt fast enough,he expected me to be perfect,i couldnt get a B on my report card,i couldnt come home late,or dirty,icouldnt have friends over,when i was 5 the lock ins started,my dad would lock me or my broher in this dark closet,and he;d lock the door,followed by a beating,he wouldnt feed us,or let us out to go to the bathroom,it was aweful,when i was 10,he kept my brother in the closet for weeks at a time,he told me i had more "special"things to do,he told me to do his laundry,the dishes,make dinner,and have the house spotless before he came home from work.he molested me everynight,saying he only beat me becuase he loved me,he'd rub my privetes and kiss me,then make me touch him,then he'd push himself into me,he said i wasnt aloud to cry,or else id get beaten,and i couldnt yell for help,he's sleep in my bed,i tried to give my brother food,like slipping crackers under the crack in the closet door,i never knew if he gotten them,becuase he was always in the closet,and he couldnt speak,not becuase he was afraid,but we nver taught him anywords,i had work to do and my father was home at 2,already drunk.when i was 13,i tried killing myself,i was about to hang myself,but i heard my brother crying,and i refused to leave him with my dad,i was the only one who cared about him,my dad cught me giving food to my brother,and beat me,and told me he'd kill me. a few months later ihe caught me again,he told me he wuld kill me,and i told him that nobody was stopping him,he grabbed a knife and stabbed me in my arm,and my stomach,i walked out ofthe house,to a neighbors,and she called the police,i was taken to the hospital,and told them everything,they got my brother,he was coverd in bruises,and culdnt talk,even though he was 9.we were put in foster care,thats where we are now,my brothr is talking pretty well,he doesnt like to be away from me,and our foster parens have talked about adopting us,i am amazed at how life can be full of miracles,and i thank my neighbor for saving mine and my brothers life.im 16 now,and ithank the website for letting me share my story




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From CathyAnn

by Cathy
(Washington, USA)

My life was never normal but whose life is? As a child my father abused me. Not only me but all of my sisters. there are 4 of us and we all got hit and two of them got molested. I remeber being lined up with my sisters and my father would blame us for something and beat us. Once he took a large piece of wood that had nails in it and smacked us all with it. I was 6 years old.

Then as i got to age 7 the worst kept happening.

My mothers gold necklace went missing and he again lined us up and my older sisters had an excuse that they were at school so it was left to me and my other sister. He knocked us to the ground yelled a whole bunch of stuff took a scooter folded it up and choked us with it. then took hedge clippers and tried to cut our toes off. we sceamed and I didnt even steal the necklace. My oldest sister did and because she got caught he threw her against the wall and she went unconcious.

When I turned 8 my sister finally spoke up about him molesting her and he went prison but he never got punished for the abuse done to the rest of us. He only served 7 years in prison.

I am now 16 and I suffer from anxiety and depression from all the things I've gone through at a young age. I spent 8 years of my life stuck in a house of hell and managed to get out and share my story about how daddy doesnt know best.

As a woman I want to help. No one no child should have to go through anything like that. children should have a happy life.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Can

by Can
(Location Undisclosed)

Male hiding the truth for years: 
When I was 6 years old, one of my aunt's son, who was 14 years old at that time, had sex with me. And that went on until I am 10 years old. I was really aggressive in those years, I was having fight with other boys. It is because I knew that I had to be more powerful. I was so afraid to tell somebody. Actually I did not realise what was his purpose, because I had not got a clue about sex.

When I came to the age of 10, he took me the room again but at that night I was able to protect my self against him. I pushed him hard so he gave up, and thanks god that never happened again. Afterwards my aunt moved to another city which was far away from us and my family.

I had graduated from primary school and continue to high school. I got good grades and I was a good student. Thanks to my mom she always support us to continue our education. I saw my aunt and him until 17 years old once in a year. After that I haven't heard from them.

And finally I had gone to university and I had graduated 2 years ago. I had some degrees after that as well. I am quite successful compare to my family members. None of them as well-educated as me. I am a respectful person now, people like me because of that. They want their children like me. Having a good education. And my parents proud of me.

So I was quite happy until I saw him yesterday. It was because my aunt wanted to saw me, after a long time.She come back after a long time to visit her relatives so he does as well. She heard some rumours, something like I have changed a lot, finished university,be an adult. So after ten years she is really curious about me. Last time she saw me I was seventeenth. Anyway they came to our home. Luckily I wasn't at home at that time, and my father call me to see my aunt. And I had told my father I had got business to do. After that day, when they were leaving the city, my aunt call my father again to meet with them to see me. So I hadn't got anyother choice. My father insists me to see my aunt. And so he was there as well. I was thinking about punching or beating him. However that wouldn't be right thing to do. Cos I don't want my big secret known by other people. So I just said "hi", that's it. I don't want to let down my family. I don't wanna make them unhappy. Probably that guy didn't want to see me as well because of what he did.

Well today, I told my father, I don't want to see them again. However couldn't tell the truth. I just want to get rid of the pain inside me which makes me weak. What should I do? Should I tell the truth? Honestly I believe that won't work. Hopefully I can live with that. I love my family.

Lastly, thanks a lot for the website you made, that's really help people like me. I really appreciate that. I believe that can happen in everywhere. No matter what we are.

I hope everything will be getting better for the people who has same sufferings like me.



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Child Abuse Story From Nicole D

by Nicole D
(Atlanta, Georgia, USA)

My mom is still with my sister's dad. he use to beat on me when my mom was not doing her girlfriend type stuff and he would tell her that he would either get it from me or her and most of the time i felt that it was me. but she thought he was playing and it never happen but it did almost everynight. she was the type of mom that choose her man over her kids. he still continues to do what he wants to me till this day. i am scared to tel my mom because he told me that if i did he would kill us both and when we are dead he will do with my sister that is only 10 what he has done to me. noone knew about it but me. now i'm pregnant with his child. i told my mom it was my boyfriend's baby but its really his. i never had a boyfriend. now my mom is on her way to kicking me out of the house. she told me that if i was grown enough to sleep with boys then i am old enough to start my own life. something inside of me keeps telling me to tell someone but i don't want my family to get hurt or anyone in my family to die because of my irresponsible actions. my mom told me that when i have my baby i will have to leave her house and she don't ever want to see me again in my lifetime. she also said she never wants to see the baby.she called my baby a bastard child and she told me that i was never gonna be anything but a bad mother. i don't want my mom to have hatred towards me like that. i sometimes wonder if she knew the real story would she take back what she said and would she be so hard on me like she is now. i want my family to be happy so i don't say anything about my problems. thank you for paying attention to my story.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Shelby's Mom

by Shelby's mom
(Location Undisclosed)

This story isn't about me its about my 14 year old daughter, recently we discovered that my ex-husband was molesting her when she was younger. We found out this when she started seeing a therapist because she was raped. She never told me because she didn't think i would believe her. I don't understand why the people who are supposed to love and cherish a child could do the things they do. Every night when i hear her crying in her sleep all i want to do is make it go away, no child should ever be treated that way and it makes me physically ill to think that it happens. It breaks my heart to hear her cry, to ask why when i don't have the answers. She has pulled so far away from our family and i don't know how to make her better. Our family is standing behind Shelby 100%.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Shay

by Shay (male)
( Location Undisclosed)

Seems like everyone hated me: 
Im 20. My mom was singel until I was 6 years old when he came along. I cant say that he was father, and that's not what I want to call him and that's not what he evver was. My bio dad left me when I was verry young, I dont remeber him. I called him by his 1st name, wich was Richard.

Richard was very mean too me. He called me names and said I was no good at anything. Sum tymes I evan thawt he didnt know my name. Whats even more bad is that I was bullyed at school all my lyfe because I was very over wayte. That doesnt matter thow becawse Im very shy and quiyet and was no good at spoorts.

What happened after that is that my grades in scool were no good and now Im unemplloyed and living in a wellfare apart ment. It isnt a very fun plasce to liv. The people there are very loud & rude and ther chilldren macke fun of me, which makes me feel bad and it brrings back memoris.

Richard not only was emotionley abusiv to me, but he was also fysically & sexshally abusiv. Its very embarasing and Ive never tolld any one. Espesshelly sinse I am a man, and my mom never beleeved me when I told her that Richard totched me. She wood tell me that boys dont get toutched only girls do. When I told her he beat me, she would laff and say that he was just playing arownd with me.

But he wasnt just playing with me, he was beeting me.

I remeber that 1 time he forcsed achohol down my mouff to make his buddys laff. This went on untill I was 17.

I reelly feel lyke I need sum help, but the probblem is I thinck peeple wont beleeve me if I tawlked to them abowt this in pursin with them becusz of my appearence and my mayle jender.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Hurt and Confused

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I honestly cannot believe I am doing this. No one will probably read this, but Im already wrting this here. I really still have a feeling underneath someone will find this and know I wrote it. This is very hard, and my writing may not show that, but its very hard. I am not trying to pull a "poor me" thing. I am just hoping this will help me move on in some way.

When I was a child, I did not categorize what was happening to me as "Child Abuse" at all. I looked at it as anything else, going to the store, being happy, being sad, eating a sandwich. It was just part of life, and I did not hate my parents. Right now, when I look back at certain things, I forget they werent nightmares, but were acutal incidents.

My mother and father had a very conflicted marriage. I think they were both very troubled people, and I ended up in the situation. There were many times I was hit. I will just include what I remember the most.

I must have been five or six years old. It was a wednesday, and that meant my mother woudl be coming home late. My father was drinking and sitting in his office desk. I started crying because I wanted to go pick her up (I had severe separation anxiety from my mother) He told me to shut up many times, and I would not. He got up, and he grabbed me from the floor, threw me over his shoulder and took me to the room. He threw me on the bed and started punching me, punching my stomach my legs, my arms. Punching was a spur of the moment punishment, I only got punched when he randomly got angry. I knew what to expect, I hated when he punched me on the bed, because I knew I would bounce back from the last impact and I would see his hand racing toward me again, and that time it would be harder. I would always cover my face, His punches were so hard, I felt like all the muscles in my body were slowly breaking with each time. He would keep yelling "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP" with each punch, until he would exhaust himself so much he couldnt talk anymore. After a while I would go numb, and I would be so releived because it wouldnt hurt anymore after that point, no matter how much he punched. Eventually he would stop, he would look down at me, take a deep breath, and go back to his desk. At that point I just stared at the sheets, and waited until my mother got home. She hated my separation anxiety. When she got home I would start crying and try to hug her, she would pull me away and say "what the heck is wrong with you? your so crazy, freaking wierdo, get off?!"

Unlike punching which was a spur of the moment punishment, My planned punishments were belt whippings. Those happened if my father had time to think about what I did before he got home from work, or if he was in a situation where he had to wait until he got home to hurt me. Once I embarassed my mother at work unintentionally by telling some stupid kid story (I was 7) You know, I was a kid, and I would say stupid things and not realize they were embarassing. One night my mother told my father about what happened on the phone, and he got home and looked down at me. My mother crossed her arms, and she said to him "I cant believe how she embarassed me in front of my collegues". He didnt say anything, he just put his keys down, put his coat on the chair and went to the room to open the door to look at which belt he would use. I was always rather stupid, and I would negotiate, and plead. "No no, Ill be good, Im sorry " et cetera. I knew it woudlnt work, I was so dumb to believe it would make a difference. There were different belts he could use, There was a black one I was especially worried about, because it was thin and hard. He woudld walk up to me, and I would never really run away (you would think I woudl be smart enough to run) But I didnt, I just kept walking backwards pleading with him as he stepped slowly closer and closer cornering me into the room. One we got there, I would start shuffling my hands because, He had large hands, and he would grab both of my hands, put them together and wrap his one had around my hands like a handcuff, raise me up and whip me. And thats exactly what happened. I would scream, figit, try to get out. And then finally eventually he would stop, pull up my pants again and lay me down to sleep. Then I went through a phase for a long time. Where I woudl wake up every morning without fail, with a stomach ache. My mother would tell him, and she would say "I dont believe her" even though I clearly was in the bathroom every morning. Well, they both didnt believe me, so he would do the whippings every morning before I went to school. He would always say "Why the hell do you have to make this so difficult, you are asking to be hit, if you would just go to school this wouldnt be a problem, you are making me do this".

Sometimes my mother would hit me when she got frustrated, though, not really like my dad would. She would feel bad afterwards, but if I asked her why she hit me. She would say "ME??? I NEVER HIT YOU, STOP LYING". I would feel like it never happened.

-I mentioned, I dont hate my parents, I was so afraid of getting taken away. The neighbors called the police and sometimes the social workers would come. I hated these people.

I would go through "cringing training". Where my mother would wave her hands in front of me and say, dont cringe!. I couldnt stop doing that. As soon as my father, or my mother or anyone raised their hand, or tried to put their arm around me or I saw them behind me I would immedietly cringe, or attempt to cover my face. Having social workers over was stressful for me,we would close the blinds, turn off lights to pretend we werent living there. and I hated them. I hated that they wanted to take me away. My mother showed me the muscular man that came to our house with the woman social worker. she always said "If you are bad, I will call them, and you will never ever see me again." And so, thats how I came to hate all social workers. Even today. I am not particularly fond of them.

Eventually my parents divorced. My mother started dating, this was a whole other scenario. She would leave all night and come home whenever. By this time I had a baby sister (still from my biological father). I still have separation anxiety from my mother and I used to chase her and hold her back when she went out, the neighbors would pull me back in and that started the pattern of staying with the neighbors. Eventually they got tired, so I went to another neighbor. He was nice, but only later did I realize what he was doing. He would have me sit on his lap, and he would caress me, (I was nine at this time) he would pretend to care and ask me why I missed my mother as he kept touching around. I believed he cared. I was such a moron. Well anyway, one day I called my mom so much she got tired and her boyfriend broke up with her. Long story short, that night (or morning I should say, it was like 4:00 in the morning) I was awake of course, I would refuse to sleep unless she was home, and the neighbors werent opening their doors to me anymore, they were tired as well. She got home and pushed me into the closet, and started punching and kicking me telling me I caused my dad to leave, I caused her boyfriend to break up with her and everything. I was used to it by now, but the nanny was in our house, and as I went to go to bed she started crying and pleaded with me to let her hold me. I didnt, I was scared of her reaction. I wasnt used to having people feel sorry for me like that.

I do not think I can go on with the story from here, lets just say, my father was not my last abuser and to this day, is not. I may write a part 2. If I feel this helped. Thank you all for listening to my story. I really hope I dont regret writing this.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Brenda1

by Brenda
(Location Undisclosed)

I was 8 years old when the sexual abuse from my Grandfather began. I am now 18 and a first year at university and I am only just realising the effects of what that evil person did to me had. My work and achievements are good, I have always been a good academic student, even if I never felt that I had done well. The thing I find most difficult to deal with is not being able to interact with people how I want to. It is always a struggle for me to talk to people and I don't let anyone get close. It also doesn't help that I have self esteem issues and not much confidence. I didn't realise until recently that most of these things is due to the abuse I received. So I would like to thank you for the information on this website.

The abuse went on for about two years and although actual sex never happened, I was fingered and touched almost every weekend and humped and was once given oral. I know this has scarred me because I was almost unable to do these things with my ex-boyfriend of 3 years. I told him about the sexual abuse and so he didn't push me into anything. But I recently just found out that he only stayed with me for so long because I had 'problems' and he wanted to help me, as opposed to what he told me, that he loved me. None of my family know and it will stay that way because it would destroy what little is left of them. My parents divorced when I was 14 and hate each other now so my immediate consists of my mum and brother. I also have no friends who I feel I can talk to, but I have just started having counselling sessions and I'm pinning all my hopes on that they will work. I would just like to be normal and not run away from social and intimate situation any more. I think talking about it, or writing about it really helps, as I feel a bit better now.




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Child Abuse Story From Haley C

by Haley C
(Maine, USA)

This may not be considered abuse, but I think about it a lot and it upsets me. My grandmother basically brought me and my sister up. We have spent most of our childhood with her. (Especially my sister.)

Our purpose for staying there was because my mom worked nearly all day. She got home in the evening, and at the time me, my sister, and my mother were living at my grandmothers, so there was nowhere to escape.

There was not much abuse for me, if any, but I remember when I was probably 6 or 7 years old my grandmother chased me around the house yelling at me, calling me names, and then forced me down into the cellar until she said I could come out. Even though it was not a really long punishment, I remember feeling very afraid because my grandmother would not let me put the lights on in the cellar so I sat there on the cellar steps in the complete darkness. I never came to the top of the stairs, or tried opening the door to ask to come out. I just sat there scared, and sometimes crying. The only kind of physical abuse I could remember was she slapped me across the face a couple times when I was younger.

My little sister I feel she hated more. She locked her in the cellar a couple more times than me too. She slapped her more often than she did me, and yelled at her more because she was the complete opposite of me. She was a loud child and some ways and liked to talk to people. I always played by myself when I was little and liked it. I was happy alone. I still am now, 8 years later at 15 years old.
As I got older, I never got in trouble with her barely at all. It was all my little sister. She never locked her in the cellar anymore, just slapped and hit her mostly. And a lot of verbal abuse and screaming in her face. When my sister would cry she would mock her pain. I hate her so much. Extreme hatred no one can describe.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Diana

by Diana
(Australia)

I am 37. I have gone to counsellors on and off for various reasons but the abuse always seems to come into it. When I was 12 I had a choice (self imposed) to live or to die. I chose to live. I stayed with my family as best as I could. I lived the way my father wanted me to - a wannabe golden girl who was never quite good enough.

The abuse was always there - my father was an angry man who abused us and our mum. He was never drunk (he liked to point out); he never did it just for fun; he was simply an angry man. If we did something wrong, he would discipline us.

I hated him but the hate I HAD for my mother was worse. Now I am a mum of 3, I am so angry with her for putting her own insecurities before our safety. I lost so much respect for her. There is something special in this world about being a mum and the connection from a mum to her children should never be broken.

My Dad hit us hard and threatened to kill us and my mother. I spent many years trying to work out how to get "over" this and have thought that forgiving him is the way to do it.

Years ago I forgave him by telling him I love him. It seemed to be good enough for me and I truly believed I was fine. I am but just recently he and I had a confronting conversation about the abuse. I was not argumentative but considerate of him and he was trying to explain where he was coming from. Normally I would get angry and we would argue and I would hang up but this time I just listened and then spoke clearly and definitively.

I think he listened.

He rang my brother a few days afterwards to talk about the abuse - my brother wouldn't talk about it, BUT my father acknowledging it (in his own way) is a huge step.

It seems that I cannot remember specific incidences and there is large parts of my childhood that I cant remember. I feel embarrassed that I cant remember this time. The good and the ugly. Why can't I remember my childhood? It worries me that there are only specific stories I can remember and the years in between have simply vanished!

I am an angry person - I do not smack my children because I am scared that I would go too far because I am so angry.

I love my parents and I have truly forgiven them, but the issue I have in my life now is my memory issues and I wonder if I should just let all of it go or try and pursue it.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Lyric

by Lyric
(USA)

I guess people have to look really closly to what's behind a smile,the earliest thing remember is when i was 5 yrs old,my mom left me and my and took my big sister with her. i wanted to go with her,but she just pushed me away,told me i had to stay with my daddy.she never came back,my daddy always said idrove her away. the first time daddy hit me was when i was 6,i was crying becuase saw runover kitten,he toldd me to stop,but i couldn't,so he slap me across the face,hard enough to mae me fll into the table and leave a bruise on my face.i also remember he wold scra in my face,and beat me with belts,a piec of wood,or he'd just plain punch and kick me.when i started school,he woul make me tell people lies,like i ran into a door,whenever they asked about bruises on my face.my daddy wouldn't let me eat,he'd make me food,then snatch it away,suddenly decidng i didn't deserve it,or i was too fat to eat anymore,of course,i never was fat,the school's nurse told me i was underweight,my daddy wuld call me things like ugly and stupid,then laughed when i cried becuase of it.my daddy woldn't let me have friends,he said anyone who would want to hag around me had to be out of their mind.when i was 9,my daddy started coming into my room,he'd touch me in my privates and took his clothes off,i didn't like it,bu he said if i was quiet and didn't try to stop him,i could eat.it git worse,hed force himself into me,and put his hands over my mouth,and beat me if tried to says no.when i got into middle school,my poetry teacher was the one who gave me a little bit of self esteem,he said i had a natural gift for wrting.i wanted to tell him about my dad,but i never could. when i was 13 my dad molested me and got me pregnant,he beat me for getting pegnant and called me a whore. he bea me all thru out my pregnancy,unill i had the baby,i had a little girl i named annabel lee,after the poem,she was 4 months premature,when she ws born my dad took her away,to his room,and said i couldn't see her untill i did wht he said. he'd yell at her untill i came and begged him to stop.he still beat me,like when anna cried,or he tripped over my things.a few times i had to bring anna to school cuz it wasnt safe with my daddy.my teachers grew suspicious,but i didn't tell,untill the poetry teacher made me tell him what was going on,i showed him mybruises and scars,and he got me help.anna's fine now,we live in a foster home,with my teacher as a foster dad,it's great,they give anna things i never dreamed she'd have,like her own room with a crib,and the poem on her wall.and they gave me my own room,and are thinking about making me their child.it's been 5 months since i told my teacher,and it couldn't have been a better choice for me,i'm so thankful to my teacher and his wife,and i thank this website for letting me share my story,and i want people to know that it's never a bad idea to speak out against abuse,and if they're getting abused,to pleas get help.thank you




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Autumn

by Autumn
(Location Undisclosed)

I feel the need to share my story because reading other people's stories have helped me heal. Other people have felt my pain, shame, guilt, fear, anger- from one degree to another. And in telling our stories we break the silence that our perpetrators have counted on.

My family was a typical alcoholic family. My grandmother and grandfather we're highly dysfunctional. My grandfather was often violent to the point you were never sure if yourself or someone else would live through this episode. He was mentally, sexually and psychologically abusive- yelling at us children in a rage while they stood at attention hoping it would not get worse. My Grandmother was severely emotionally, sexually and physically abusive. The day in and day out of living in this environment was very traumatic for thier 7 children. These children have many problems, some are again violent, all mistrustful, some so hurt by the pain caused by these people they have serious mental and emotional problems that disrupt there ability to live normal, happy lives.

As you see I've been speaking of grandparents and aunts, uncle...One of these children was my mother. She had 4 children. None of which she had the capacity to care for. I was taken from her at birth to keep her from harming me. Then through the next few years repeatedly taken away to foster care and given back into her neglectful hands. I was molested by at least 2 people during this time. At age 4 she was signing over my custody to the state. Then Grandma comes to save the day.

So then I became part of this family. This became my life. Isolated. No friends, no community. We moved at least every year. My Grandfather passed away when I was 14 and the next few years were still awful. I was molested by a brother while growing up and a boss at my work when I was 16. I was too screwed up at the time to say anything at all.

When I was 18, I moved out immediately and unfortunately into my first marriage. I thought I was doing the good girl thing. Luckily I saw what that was before I got to deep and left. He had already cheated on me at least twice and was becoming violent. In less then a year that marriage was annulled.

Since then its been a process of recovery. I have certainly had many downs and ups. Currently I'm on a bit of a down but I'm fighting my way back up and I believe I will be better, stronger again soon.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Amanda10

by Amanda
(California, USA)

I dont remember when it began, or how. my parents always yelled how great a child i was, until i was 6 then something changed. because they started hitting me. and they yelled. they stopped going to church. they said i deserved it, that i was bad. i wrote in my journal at school in first grade "i wish my parents would learn how to teach me without hurting me, like my teacher does" they were inventive, in there opinion im sure. they used belts and spoons, iron bars, forks...i could see it in there eyes as they hit me. just the rage, i knew they were taking there stress and anger out on me. they blamed me for everything. they constantly threatend to get divorce, and they said they only stayed together because of me. they hurt each other, my mom hurt my dad with the bars of his excercise equiptment, and my dad pounded my moms head into walls and tiles. at 6'9 and 350 pound no one in the house had a chnce against him. when they yelled i always grabbed my baby sister and hid in the only room in the house with a lock, the bathroom. and they would pound on the doors and scream and i would tell my baby sister not to say a word. we slept in there some nights. as we got up it only got worse, i prayed every night that they would learn to be parents. i had a dream growing up that my dad would go to jail and my mom a mental institution, and me and my sister could live with my grandmother. one time, i was getting ready for a cheer competition and my mom didnt like my hair and i told her i didnt want to do anything to it. but she took the straightener, and pressed it to my thigh and told me to shut up. and if i cried she hit me and said if i didnt stop shed do it again. the worst was when they teamed up against me. i was 8 when i had my first panic attack, they nearly killed me. they had been attacking me for hours, truely it was just because they were angry. i was bleeding and bruised. i fainted when my dad found my head into my door ledge. i never fully knew what happend after, but i assume they didnt stop, or he didnt, because i ended up with such a serious concuzion they had to call the police. possibly the only thing they ever did for me. the doctors said i would have died, if the ambulance was even a little slower. they told everyone it was a bike accident, no one bothered to ask me anyhting. when i was ten i was doing homework, but apparfently not satisfactory enough. because my dad felt the need to jam a pencil into my throat. the lead is still visible on my neck. ive broken ribs, theyve broken my hands and even my ankle once. i suppose if you look back on my medical records i look very clumsy. im 14 now, and i almost made it stop. almost. not much. because last year, after they had broken my ankle (a soccer accident im sure, because i obviously play soccer in my backyeard at 2 am) my mom didnt have a care in the world about attacking a cripple because the dishes had not been completed. i broke right there, i wouldnt take it anymore. i suprisingly easily over powered her, but i couldnt stop there, i was so angry from all the years of torture i used my crutch and hit her once after the other...she did something i never had and called the police. i was pretty bad beaten up, but she had it worse. the one time i finally stand up, i got arrested and taken to juvy. my dad picked me up the next day. my mom thought she had one, i still wouldnt tell them about what had happend. but ever since when she tried to hit me i was able to stop her, just defensively now. but she always threatend to send me back there, something i would not allow. but the physical abuse was far too extreme to really explain, the verball abuse was awful. i was fat, ugly, stupid, incompetent, not what was hoped for, never good enough, a mistake, worthless, an embarrassment. at the age of nine, because of this, i attempted suicide 4 times. sexually, the cps has records, only from when i was under five being a abused by my father, charges were dropped from lack of evidence. i really cant remember any of those events. under neglect, there are cps cases too, because of course being worhtless my parents felt little need to remain at home with us, keeping us from school and alone days at a time. my mom a pill popper, and drug addict, i never know where she goes, and my dad gets prostitutes and bloiws the little money we really have. and stays with him mom. both my parents were abused growing up. i must break this pattern. on the outside, we live in a gated community me and my sister both go to the most prestigious catholic schools in the country, im a shoe in for iv league.im possibly one of the happiest people you will ever meet, and the last person youd guess. writing this feels like writing about some other persn, someone ive tried very hard to detach myself from, but i dont know who i am anymore, a lie?




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Jean

by Jean
(Tennessee, USA)

I was sexually abused by my brother.he was 10 years older thsn me. he abused me for a long time. he acted like he owned me when i got old enough to date i would go out with someone,and after i got home he would yell at me and kick me.he died not long after i married my first husband ,and i wasn't sad that he was gone.my first husband was unfaithful to me.we divorced and then i got married again he was unfaithful too.i have a problem with gettin along with men.really i have got to where i don't like men at all. i can't hold down a job.i can't socialize with people. i live with my ex right now till i can get a place to go.he wants me to stay,but i don't trust him anymore.i don't think i want to get married again.this abuse has affected my whole life.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Cat1

by Cat
(London, England)

I am 47 and for some reason over the last two years i have been thinking of my abuse almost daily. My first memory is after aged 10 (that was when we moved into our new house) - i cant remember anything prior to that. I loved, adored and looked up to my father. He was quite strict and the disciplinarian in the family. My mum was soft, adorable, loving and caring. We were a largish family so time with mum alone was precious and appreciated. I was my dad's little helper, went everywhere with him, was proud to do so. I remember him coming into my room (which i shared with 3 siblings) and touching me. it felt odd and i didnt like it but i was scared to say anything, confused and not even sure what to really think. I can recall my older half sister screaming out one night and accusing him of doing stuff. she was rebellious and left home at 16. I remember him coming in most nights. i would try and jam the door as there was no lock but somehow, my eyes would open to find him kneeling besides my bed and touching me. i dont know when the actual intercourse first took place so i have no virginity to be proud of. when friends spoke in later years about their 'special time', i found myself making up my special time because i was ashamed i hate my dad for taking that away from me. He would rub himself against me. i remember the smell, the touch and my stomach would turn. the next thing i remember is the intercourse. he would sometimes take me his bedroom while mum was at work. he would always withdraw before ejaculation. i cannot describe my fear of him yet loving him at the same time. during a normal day he was loving and kind, just my normal dad! at aged 14 a relative came to stay (ended up being two years). he told me one day, i know your dad comes in your room, you must stop it from happening. i was so very ashamed that someone else now knew this. my fear mum would find out, anyone. so i jammed my door even more, would cough loudly if i heard him coming and he would scuttle off. i was in my parents bedroom once chatting with mum and i saw her touch the bed. i knew that she knew something had happened, she knew the smell and the feeling of wetness but nothing was said. one day whilst eating dinner i felt sick. this continued daily. i couldnt eat anything and got thinner. mum asked what was wrong but, naively, i didnt know. she called me in her room one day and asked when was my last monthly, only then the penny dropped. they took me to the doctor who confirmed my pregnancy. i was constantly asked who was the father and i kept the secret. when i was accused of sleeping around i cried and admitted, in front of my parents, that it was my father. Oh God he cried, why would you say a thing like that, you are bad. my mum shouted, everyone screamed and my dad picked up a bottle and said he would hit me if i continued to lie. i said hit me then, you know you did it. i would hear my mother and older sister talk about me and how bad i was to keep this secret, they said my dad was bad also but the fact they put me in that category crucified me. i was taken by my parents for a termination and they both showed me love, attention and kindness. it happened again only twice. the first time at age 16 in my confused state i found myself enjoying the feeling and almost willingly participating. i can only explain this by being a teenager going through normal hormones and being sexually confused. i had never had a boyfriend and wanted one. i blackmailed him once and got a jumper for keeping quiet but after that i felt bad and it never happened again. as an adult i slept with a lot of men, enjoying the rough sex but so very much wanting love. i wish i had the guts to report my father as i since found out he did this with my younger sister way after me. i cannot even talk to her about it but i do want to. i hate and love my mum for staying with my father and not protecting me, believing me and understanding me. the 'episodes' seem to have been erased from everyone's memory, except mine. i want to talk to tell people but the shame would kill me. i want to punish my Dad and i hate the fact i love him too. i know im a sufferer even now. i know the way i conduct and think about relationships is muddled. i have two beautiful grown children who are safe, cared for loved and adore their grandfather though i never left them in his care. how can i shatter their illusion. who can i talk to so i can finally get over this and move on and be happy




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Nena

by Nena
(USA)

I was born as a crack baby to a mother and father who was both users.Even with all this info I was still sent home with them after some time.I have an older brother and an older sister.which my sister who cared for both us. She was only 10 years older than I but would keep, feed and bathe us when our parents where gone for days and weeks at a time.Child and family sevices took us away from my parents when I was 2 years old for good. My sister and I went to live in the same foster home and my brother with an aunt.My sister left the foster home when I was about 4 years old.My foster mother was in her 60's so I called her grandmom.At age six things began to change.Her grandsons would come over every weekend and stay summers.The house that she lived in was an old house.There was rooms that was called "anteroom"...which means in order to get to the guest room you had to go through my room.One night in 1990 took everyhing I had left including my innocents.I was playing Super Mario Bros on first nintendo ever.I was sitting there unaware that my world in mintues would crash.Foster cousin (P) is what going to call him started to tickle me and I laugh and laugh.He stop but then started to caress me in on my chest and private area.i did not say anything.It felt good but I was a little confused then he perseeded to put his hand in my underware I felt a chill come over me. He inserted one of his fingers in me and ask me do it feel good?I shook my head no, then he said I will make it feel better ok?He got up and took off his pants. and I sat there trying to look away it was to much me to see I have never saw a male gentitials before but I looked.I was trying to understand this whole thing.P rubbed vaseline on his penis.J foster cousin came over and lay me down and P stood over me.I ask to go to my room and P said not yet 'don't you want to feel better? I got on top of me and I could not breathe because he was so heavy he inserted his fingers once more and then took them out.Then I felt a pain that I have never felt before. Ripping,burning I tried to push but J was holding me down but it did not matter because I it hurt so much my screams were faint.I had no streght to fight any longer. this is so hard to write. i am trying to type fast as i could because i am soding so excuse my spelling.I pass out a couple of times J and P taking turns.i woke in the morning and they were gone and the room smell like pee.i had pee on myself and there was blood on my night glown and on the inside of my legs. my foster came in and took me to the bathroom were she give me a bath. it burned i could not sit in the water then she put me to bed. she try to make me eat i did a little.i must have done something to deserved that i throught.i heard them come back in that night so i pretend i was sleep i body was so sore i throught that it was over but i was wrong. he got into my bed and i told him that i do not like it and he paid me no mind it happen again i did black out most of that night.this lasted for 4 years within that time i would just lay down and let them have their way with me because i could not win. when i did fight them they still got and always won.it was enough to get beat for bed wetting and throwing up so fighting them was nothing anyway. it was just letting yourself drift away from there picturing me and mom,dad,brother,and sister all happy together.i learn to give oral sex and they perform anal sex on me regually.vaginial was only a couple of times throught the years.around 7 1/2 to years old I found out that my foster grandmother knew and she did from day one. as a child even through she give me a bath the morning after i still didnt know she knew. but now i knew she knew( J )was on top of me and inside of me and my foster grandmom walk in (J) did not stop to even look at her. i reach my hand out to her and she just looked at me for awhile and walked out and i broke into a millon pieces. i wanted to die even more. they got a another foster child girl a year younger then me and a week went pass before it happen to her. we were playing with barbies in my room when (P) ask her to come here because he has to show her something. she went in and he close the door. i sat there i knew but i said nothing and this haunts me to this day because i know its not my fault she got raped but its hard for me to believe that mentally and her screams I hears in my dreams and flashbacks. i sat and listen for a awhile and then i heard her scream.i lay down on the floor and just cried myself to sleep. i went up and my foster grandmom was giving her medication of some sort that she did not take after she left i went over to her and looked at her and give her a hug but her body began to shake all over but i understand that i just sat beside her bed. we started sleeep to together because i guess it made us feel safer.they would beat us when the other one would hide and make us give the other one up.i did not have a childhood it was tooken from me by a monster of a foster family who care nothing of me but just the check.1995 late summer i went to live with my aunt who wanted me because her son died two years earier and i tried to forget for a month and half but a flashback sent me back there i tried to kill myself with a kitchen knife my auntie took the knife as i trided to cut my throat. from there i went to childrens hospital were a doctor asked me lots of questions and they got to one question - has any one ever...it was so hard to speak but i could not keep it any longer the sercret was out. i was admitted and they did rape exam.it was so hard to go through i had to be sedated.my body was shaking for hours afterward. I live in different hospitals for six years through the usa and then home at 16 1/2 to my sister who was able to care for me and brother legally she adopted us. thank you for reading.




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Child Abuse Story From Ignored Girl

by Faith
(USA)

I don't remember much but I think I remember enough to tell my story. When I was 6 my parents separated. My father kinda-of let me and my 3 year-old brother do what we wanted. The earlest memory I have is telling my brother not to go on to the street and pulling him away. I always felt like if I didn't watch over him while we were at my father's house, no one would.

For a while we were fine but then my father decided to teach me and my brother karate. I was always better but as my brother got older, my brother and father taught me that they were in charge even while I "mothered" my brother. My father never hit me (that I know of) but my brother would and my father didn't care. One vivid memory I have scares me to this day.

I was fighting with my brother(verbally). We were in my dad's room. I pushed him away and he fell into a desk and ended with a long scratch in his back. I picked him up and took him to his bed. I pleaded him not to tell my father and in return, he could hit me. He took the offer.

After that I never hit him or pushed him or even touched him. I contuined to act like the parent as my father would sit outside and smoke. My father started to become a therapist while he battled his depression. When he got his "degree" from a video course he decided to open a place.

Since I was a parent to both (I would cook, clean, tell my father what to do with money and tell my brother what to do) I knew what was going on at all times. My father opened his place and all the money went to waste. He began to get loan after loan. Eventally, we were kicked out of our 2 bedroom apartment. That's when it got bad.

We moved into my father's friend's house. There was always 9-10 people living there. The friend went to my parent's wedding with a 12 year old. I was 12. He never touched me but I was all distant and scared of him. He dated an alcoholic and sometimes got very physical with her.

One memory I have is of my father, my brother, and I were in our bedroom and his friend went to see his girlfriend. Her room was right up against mine. He started to beat her and my brother and I could hear it though the walls. My father then decided to go by cigarettes in the middle of the fight and leave my brother and I in the room, listening to the women being beaten next to us. That is causing me to shake as I think of it.

Then my father started to act weird towards me. When I made him mad me would make me feel small (Not hard concidering he was 6'5") Before he kinda just left me alone and ignored me. Now he stopped hugging me at all or looking at me when I made him mad. He would threaten to kick me or punch me and since he was a black belt, that would most likely result in ingery or death. I knew this very well. (To this day I wonder if my father abused me before because when I was little, there was 3 times that I remeber when I had deep cuts in my feet from when he "opened to door and I was standing there." I was told it was my fault and to stand somewhere else.)

As this was going on my brother got worse. He started to push me agaist walls and yell at me. Nothing terrible but it scared me still. I thought this was normal.

I was always taught that my brother was better than me. If I turned off his TV show he would punch me in the back(I would turn away and expect him to punch me repetly) and when I tried to tell on him, he didn't care. When we had breakfest we would have Circle K. Somtimes there was only $5 left, enough for my father to buy his cigarettes and enough for 1 of us to eat. It would always be my brother. If it was between me and my brother eating and my father smoking, my father got his way. I was always the last to get anything.

Then my father really went insane. I think there were 3 main times that I broke down. I remember the 1st and 3rd but not the 2nd. The first time we were in the truck and he told me that him and my mom were in a fight. He told me and my brother that god said that of my mom didn't repent that she would die of cancer in 2 weeks. I let out a few tears but only enough to make him stop talking. (In 4th and 5th grade I would cry all the time in class and I started to get picked on it so I stopped crying I'm front of people because crying is a weakness in the eyes) I called my mom in full tears and told her. She drove down and picked me up.

As I said before I forgot the second time I was rescued because my father said somthing. The last time was the worse. He said my brother was going to kill himself before the age of 16 if he didn't live with my dad. My 11 year old brother was right there looking dead. I broke down. He started telling me other things which I don't remeber.

I called my mom and she said my grandma and aunt were coming. I told my dad and he flipped out and treaten to kill them if they came. My mom gave me 2 options. Call the police or stay. I was always strong and didn't think I needed help so I said stay. Luckly, my cousin came up with a "babysitting" job and my father let me go. I can't get over the fact that for some reason, I think I escaped death that day. Even with that thought I still think I should of held strong and not put my mom, brother, step-sister, step-father and father though that pain.

Now my brother is getting better. The worst he did to me after was punch me in the nose and chase me with a knife. He no longer does anything like that to me anymore though.

I wonder now why no one cared enough for me. I would cry in school but no one asked. I wore the exact same outfit to my dads house and wore it back. It was fithly but I didn't want my school clothes to get dirty. I almost never bathed because my soap needs weren't as important as any one elses. (The cat got food before me) But at the same time I think I should have just pushed it off and kept living there. My mom is a good person and only didn't want us to be away from our father but all the people who lived in my dads house or ever saw me didn't say anything. I am to scared to tell my friends what happend and to this day, my "happy face" is the only reason they don't know.




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Child Abuse Story From Christy

by Christy
(Location Undisclosed)

At the age of 12, i started to be sexually abused by my stepdad. he would call me into his room every night. He had a back problem and and it became an excuse for me to be in there. I remember him touching me in places he shouldnt have. But at that time i didnt think anything of it. When i turned 13 it started again. He began taking my pants off and when i tried to stop him, he pulled me closer to him and wrapped himself around me to hold me down. I never knew my father amd my stepdad was like a dad to me. I didnt think he would ever hurt me. I remember when i was 15 he began having sex with me. He raped me repeatedly. My mom would be asleep and i never said a word. I have always been the kind of girl to hide my feelings. Fake a smile and a laugh. I never wanted to go to school. I faked sick alot. he told me i was his wife, he got me a ring and told me he wanted to have a baby with me. I was so scared. I didnt know what to do then one day, i spoke out. Got him indicted, and then he was found dead in a motel. He killed himself. He knew he was guilty and he didnt want to face the consequences. I am now 17 years old, It didnt kill me, but it has made me a stronger woman. I am now engaged and am looking forward to a brighter future. Knowing that there are innocent children out there who need help and me going through what i did, i want to be an abuse counselor. Be involved in these childrens lives and let them know that they are loved and deserve the best. I would do anything in this world to help these innocent children. No child deserves to be in these situations.



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Child Abuse Story From Anonymous For Jada

by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)

I have not been abused in anyway or form. But, I know what it's like. I lost a friend in early childhood because her father simply didn't care.

It was over 5 years ago now... so mostly a blur. I remember tears from me and my sister. Jada... her name their but faint. Her father was mean and horrible, most likely drunk. Jada pushed his nerves too far, but this isn't what she deserved! Dad got mad, picked her up. Head meets wall, picked up again, body smashes against wall. Done. Over. Jada is in the hospital as we watch the news on tv. Waiting for her fate. She is on some kind of machine, and her mom is crying. The reporter says the mom gets to pick. Jada can stay alive, but must stay on the machine for ever... or... well. Death. Who would want this fate? Who could make their daughter live a life like that? Of course, she let her daughter go to heaven. A friend lost because of a stupid neglection that lasted only seconds. RIP Jada. We still care.

P.S Her dad did go to jail, I just cant remember how long.

thank you.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Zoe

by Zoe
(South East London, United Kingdom)

I was 12 years old when the abuse started i met him as a stranger on the street. saw him a few times used his toilet once when i was drunk. them i started seeing him a lot he would buy me things. then me and a few friends would go up to his flat and get drunk typical teenagers is started to become a regular thing and before i knew it he was sort of like a dad that i never had. after a period of time he started paying me for kisses and then he offered what seemed alot of money for small sexual favours. my family didnt have that much money so it seemed like a small price to pay for money. soon the idea of him taking pics of me for money came about then it went into nude pics then things incerted into my private area he kept them for his personal use. a woman across the road from him was suspicious as we was there quite alot then my family started to worry as i was coming home with new things and they knew i had no money. i realised what was happening was wrong but thought id be in loads of trouble if i told any one so i just started to self harm drink and smoke more than usual. as my mum an sister were both sexually abused they could read the signs but didnt confront me head on as they knew i wouldnt open up. so when i went away for a few days to my aunties she kept and eye on me and when she realised i was taking an lot of private call she asked my best friend to talk to me. i have known stef for most of my life. she came round to my aunts one day and i opened up to her in confidence. writing it all down as i let the details flow from my lips stef then took the details to my aunt then confronted me that night and it all came flowing out the police were called evidence was taken and he was arrested. mum and dad came straight round and just held me while i cried and again told them what had happened. a few weeks later i had to give evidence via video camera at court as i was to young to actually stand in the court room. later i was contacted by my social worker who told me he had been convicted of 15 accounts of abuse and was sentaced to 5 years in belmarsh prison in south east london. i didnt attened any coucilling as i didnt wanna face up to what happened. now at 19 im suicidal i self harm and i block people out i was refered to a mental health hospital an was put on suicide watch. the abuse be came to much for me to deal with that i ended my four year relationshp with my fiance i couldnt bare a man touching me or coming close to me. thats when i got with another friend who then threw me away because she couldnt handle my issues and didnt wanna have t deal with the fact that i was in a mental health hospital. going into oxleas was a good thing as it helped me now im still finding it hard to cope and have my low days i have the support of my family and my girlfriends are by my side to this day. im hoping i have the strength to get over this and be normal again. being sexually abused is a sick and violating abuse hopefully we can all pull through together.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Becki

by Becki
(England)

I was only 2 when i had to look after myself my mum and dad drank and my dad used to push me down the stairs and attacked me by the time i was 4 i had 1 year old sis and 1 month old brother me and my sis had to look after them my dad even went for them but me and my sis stood in front of them to protect them i was never at school i was more or less in hospital and then my mum and dad split up when i went to stay at my dads for the weekend i was sexually abused and my dad took pics of me when i was asleep i wasnt rescued till i 6 when all the damaged had been done we were always left in the house alone and when social services came i answered the door me dad lunged a knife through my leg thats when people realised my family was abused i always thought it was my fault but now i realise its not and i am now in a safe environment i still have nightmares now and i am 15 i miss my mum she didnt hurt me.




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Child Abuse Story From Anomonous

by Anomonous
(Location Undisclosed)

I was smacked around since the age of 2 to the age of 10 i dealt with it for quite awhile and every time i took a step i seemed to be on the floor crying and i didnt know what to do! i tried to speak but i never could cause i was afraid to get hit again and again. But after me and my sisters talked we were moved. i ended up in two foster homes at the age of 13 and they didnt work out cause my second foster home i ended up in the hopital for taking to many maedication that almost killed me. I just moved back with my uncle and so far he hasnt hit me yet but i am not waiting this time. its my time to speak and im ready!




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Mike K

by Mike K
(USA)

Mirrored Sexual Abuse: 
I'm a 24 yr old male from US. When I was about 7 I was repeatedly molested by a boy a few years older than me. I remember he would take me down to the basement and do oral on me and force me to do oral on him and he would also have sex with me and it hurt but he said that 'this is how it works' and made me think it was normal, but that just like you dont talk about going to the bathroom its a private thing that i shouldnt have talked about and so i thought it was normal.

This happened for a couple of years and it was confusing because on one hand i liked it because of some of the pleasuring sensations but it was very strange to me and i had the feeling like something wasnt right.

I passed the abuse onto a couple other kids because I didn't know any better, a 3 yr old girl and a boy my age - i still remember it all very clearly how I did the same thing that the other boy did to me and said the same things, that it was what was done and it was just how things work and it was ok but dont talk about it.

I've only told my mom about it but that's not what's the most bothersome thing for me these days, to say the least.

It seems that for whatever reason because of being sexualized so early or maybe remembering the experiences of passing it on, i dont know, but since I was 19 or so I discovered that i have a strong sexual attraction for small girls, like between 3-9. It's a horrifying feeling because I hate the idea of abuse and I would never want anyone to go through what i did, but still I can't help but feel very aroused whenever I see a little girl. this is veyr hard to talk about and I want to say that i would never actually act on any of these feelings, they go against everything that i think is important about the innocence of childhood.

I really love children and their innocence and joy and beauty and how alive they are -- It makes me remember of when I was a kid before any of this happened -- I havent experienced much joy of any kind in almost twenty years... my childhood suffered a lot of verbal and physical and emotional abuse from my parents.

So it is really important to me to be a nurturer and really protect that childhood innocence whenever I see it.
I want children of my own one day, I think I'd be a really great daddy because of how I relate to kids and the experiences that I've had that cause me to realize how you should never treat kids.

The problem is that normally I'm fine but whenever I get aroused or I see a little girl it's like this horrible monster completely overwhelms me and I start to think of all these horrible things that I'd like to do. A long time ago I was curious and I saw some stuff on the internet that I shouldnt have and it really horrified me to see the kind of reaction that my sexuality had to it, even though emotional and intellectually I don't agree with it at all.

I really hate myself so much these days and a lot of times I just want to kill myself. I feel like I am a monster and a horrible person for having these attractions and feelings and I dont understand them and I know that it has to do with what happened to me but I cant talk to anyone about it because i am afraid they will think I am a sexual predator and call the police or something.

In the past I have told people I really trusted and they have vilified me and berated me and called me a pervert and a pedophile and I cant talk to anyone about it now. I'm constantly afraid that someone will find out. One friend who I've told and who is not judging me for it recommended I take counseling but I am afraid I'll be persecuted for it if i tell a 'professional'.

I mean, pedophiles are the most universally despised people on the planet! absolutely anyone i know wouldnt hesitate to beat the shit out of them if given the chance. I've had close friends describe what they'd do to these people and that they are sick f**** and deserve to be cut open alive, etc. I just had to sort of nod and agree, but I feel that I must be one of those sick f**** and I don't deserve anything better than to be murdered and wiped off the face of the earth and gotten rid of. I feel as if the entire world hates me and they just don't know it yet. I feel like just killing myself to put myself and anyone else out of risk but I'm too cowardly to.

I dont feel like these desires are a part of who I really am and I dont agree with them but this sexuality has latched onto me and I can't get rid of it or deny it and I feel like a piece of shit like the most horrible person to ever have lived. I never want any child to experience what I did but these desires seem like a different person from me that I have two people inside myself - the me who is full of love and would never hurt anyone, and the me who wants to be no better than any other pervert and wants me to just face the fact that I am a monster and a disgusting wretched beast. I wonder how my life will end, if I will get the white picket fence and the wife and kids and good job and joy and love with children who really admire me as being a huge inspiration to them and a great daddy. Then I wonder if one day my desires will overwhelm me and I'll destroy some poor child's life and end up being killed in prison or shooting myself in the head in some hotel somewhere. The sad thing is I can see it as more of a probability that the second option would happen than the first. I've never seen any examples of good family life and I've been depressed and anxious for years and I can't see myself ever getting what I want, only misery and decay.

I would never ever willingly hurt a child but it is so frightening and tiring trying to battle this monsterous alter ego of mine I wonder if I'll lose the battle and become everything that I hate and become the very image of the thing that has destroyed mine and so many other peoples life. I have so little hope.

this is really hard to write on this site about and maybe i just wonder if anyone else who has been abused has had this same sort of mirrored reaction. that's all I want, to see if anyone else has had similar experiences. i feel really alone and hideous, like the Me I could have been has been compromised and all that is left is this f***** up shell who is good for nothing but to ruin other peoples lives. I want to just give up. I am so alone.

From Darlene to my visitors: As difficult as it will be to refrain from disparaging Mike, please keep your comments civil (and please read what I've written as a comment below). Address your concerns if you feel the need (as have I) but stay respectful for the sake of the integrity of my site. I thank you for your understanding.




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Child Abuse Story From Jason1

by Jason
(USA)

I wrote this in gradeschool: 
i wake in the morning and try to keep hushed
i put my shoes on and run for the bus
i sit in my seat just trying to learn
all the kids laugh and make my heart burn
when recess comes i sit all alone
but i dont mind, its still better than home
when the bell rings i dont want to leave
the panic comes and makes my chest heave
i open the door and shudder with fear
i wonder how long until he will be here
his truck in the driveway and theres no escape
i know that tonight my forecast is rape
i try to be good but its just no use
there is no crime theres only abuse
with screaming and hate my punishments dealt
again and again my skin meets with belt
i dont try to fight, theres nothing to gain
one way or another his pleasures my pain
all i can think is please let me die
so i fade away and dream i can fly
at last i am still, cant quite comprehend
but i wake in the morning to start over again




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Nicola1

by Nicola
(England)

Teenager being abused by two boys younger than me: 
It hasnt stopped. Its still happening. I am currently, and have been for the past year or so, molested by my brother and his friend. I have never been raped. But i have nightmares about it, in which i wake up in the middle of the night. My brother takes the thing as almost a joke, i however, cannot.

Their hands grope my breasts and stroke my legs, lying on top of me and pinning me down so i cannot get away. I cannot scream, fear forces the sound down my throat again and i try to fight them- it has no effect. I've been told by them that my only use is my body, my chest being the favourite area.

They attempted to 'finger me' and ask me for sex. The friend stripped naked infront of me and told me to touch him, i refused. They watch me while i sleep, i sleep naked. They hide beneath my bed or in my wardbrobe, i have to check those places every night before i sleep.

This molestation happens repeatedly. My brother kissing me, with tougues. Its disgusting really.. He is my flesh and blood and yet he and his friend touch me against my will, watch me in the bathroom- showering and going to th toilet. I dont understand it.. i am so confused.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: During the week of February 15 - 21, 2010, I will not be able to comment on story submissions, as I will be attending a conference in Atlanta with only limited online access time.
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Child Abuse Story From Maria3

by Maria
(Location Undisclosed)

This site is inspiring to tell my story, but I've never told a soul what happened to me, not one. Ive never even told anyone i was hiding something or that was something to tell. But this is a step, just simply saying there's something to tell. Even to complete strangers might help me some day tell someone what happened to me, at least i know i'm not alone.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: During the week of February 15 - 21, 2010, I will not be able to comment on story submissions, as I will be attending a conference in Atlanta with only limited online access time.
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Child Abuse Story From Jessica11

by Jessica
(Ottawa, Ontario, Canada)

To this day I have not told my parents. It happened when I was three, a neighbour boy was babysitting me, and on the floor beside my bed in my room, he got ontop of me and rubbed himself inbetween my legs. My memory goes blank after that...I have no recoliction of what happened after it was over, I just knew I never wanted to be around him again...Not because I remembered at the time, just a feeling inside. For years I thought it was just a nasty dream I had, that I kept having again and again...but now I know I wouldn't of had a dream like that at the age of three or four, it wouldn't have been natural. I kept it to myself, and I didn't know why. I still don't know why it scares me to say anything...I've only told my fiance, he doesn't have much to say about it. Now that I look back it explains a lot of behaviours I had, I was an extremely sexual little girl. Got in trouble all the time for indecent exposure, touched myself A LOT, and thought it was normal and everyone did it....or that it was normal for guys to want sexual gratification all the time. I actually have a lot of screwed up views and could write a book about it. I had a constant need to do well as a student and as a person to look good in my parents eyes. I guess it was a way to get attention. I hit a rough patch at the end of high school when I had a scholarship to any because I got accepted to all of them. I thought I was the s**t, and didn't need to try anymore. I started experimenting with drugs and anorexia around the same time, and to this day I still have these addiction issues, even though I have graduated University now with no real job prospects, I guess my prescription forging and a run in with the law didn't help much. So now I just think how I got here, and I do a lot of reading on the internet, and now I can see its not normal, but wasn't just me either. The side effects of what I've gone through is fairly normal from the research I've done. Its hard to believe a single event mixed with many other small things over the years can screw your life up so much...its not a cop out, after the age of 18 or even before, I knew right from wrong, but theres a demon inside me that I worry about everysingle day, constantly keeping her in check, and I wonder if I would have this demon if that creep never touched me when I was three.
-JEssica




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Child Abuse Story From Genna

by Genna
(Houston, Texas, USA)


One of my earliest, happy, childhood memories was being with friends at a tea party, without a care in the world. I can remember happy times up until I reach first grade. When I began to comprehend what was happening around me. I grew up with my grandmother, grandfather, mother, and my older sister in a house in Texas. Both of my grandparents were teachers, my grandfather retired and my grandmother still working. My mother worked for a marketing company. Every little thing my sister and I did was analyzed and held up to a light by my grandparents. Everything had to be perfect, even the smallest mistakes were criticized. And when one thing was wrong, our life would take a turn for the worst. There wasn't really any physical abuse, but there was plenty verbal and emotional.

It started out with grades on report cards, which every child fears giving to their parents, if only because they were going to be chastised. But for us it was a different sort of apprehension. Our grandmother wouldn't accept anything that wasn't an A, or at the least a high B. In the beginning, she just told us we could do better, like any parent, and we would get a spanking with the wood and metal paddle that still hangs in the kitchen today. And then in second grade, it started getting worse because of my growing individuality. I was a stubborn and obstinate kid, unlike my sister who was quiet and cooperative. Next came the name-calling. But that wasn't so bad.

Third grade was when it all went downhill. I was put into the class of a woman who was, now that we look back on it, an obvious racist. My grades dropped, my conduct began to get worse. And that was when the yelling started. "Worthless." That was the most used word referred to me. "You aren't going to go anywhere in life." "You're pitiful, I don't see why I support you." "I will throw you out of this house if you don't get your act together." "Piece of s**t won't be worth anything in the long run." "Useless." "Can't do anything right." "You're a mistake, just like your sister." "Stupid little idiot." Usually, she would slap me, or pinch me, or use the paddle. I would usually be bruised for a few days, but it never really bothered me. But I was always afraid of what she would say, and if I slipped up again, it would be the last time I ever lived in that house again.

I actually ran away from home once, when I was in elementary school. I didn't get very far, I just slept at the park that was a block or two from my house. After third grade I was kicked out of my first elementary school because my behavior had gotten so out of hand. I went to the school where my grandmother worked after that and it was probably the worst thing that could have happened to me, and the best. I made the honor role in fourth grade, because I was so afraid of my grandmother being there; a constant presence hovering over me. It was around this time my Uncle M died and my father, who'd moved around a lot(though I did see him on occasion) ceased almost all contact from me. I would see him maybe three or four times a year. I had loved my father a lot, and rejoiced whenever we spent time together. When he left, I felt as if a chunk had been ripped from me.

Fifth grade was when it escalated, right before my transition to middle school. My teacher, Ms K, was roomed right next to my grandmother, and I wonder now if she just didn't like me. If I did just one thing wrong, she would go next door and get my grandmother who would drag me into the hallways, sometimes by my hair, and yell at me, reduce me to tears and then send me back to class after a little slap. This went through middle school, where I experienced the most traumatic event that has happened in my seventeen years of life. I was raped in my school locker room in sixth grade. I walked away alive, with bruises on my stomach, hips, thighs, arms, and neck. I never told anyone and allowed myself to be yelled at and beaten for the drop my grades had suffered.

In eighth grade, after being threatened to be kicked out of the house at least three times a month, locked out of the house a handful of times until my mother came home, and left to fend for myself, I was finally hospitalized. It was then that I was diagnosed as schizoaffective, as I had been suffering auditory, visual, and sensitory hallucination for the past few years. I had withdrawn. I can't write anymore because the last four years are worse, in my eyes and memories. And my mother always worked late so usually by the time she returned home, it would almost be time for bed, and the abuse had already ended. She wasn't there to hold me through the beatings, or when I cried. But every night she would come home and tell me she loved me, and that was what carried me through.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Shannen

by Shannen R
(England)

I was 11, why me? Like many other stories i dont know where to start or how to start some im just gonna babal on and hope it comes out rite! i was 11 just finshed primary school it was the summer holidays and the sun was out every day and the nights lasted forever but my childhood and the life i new was gonna come to an abrut end!

My stepcousin and life long friend stayed over at my step dads flat for the night and we stayed up till like 4 in the morning laughing and joking but when J (male) finally went to sleep me and my friend T put our bras on his head and toke a picture the next day we showed him but he didnt find it funny and was embarrsed (now looking back from a grown up prospective i see why!) so that following day when T had returned home i sent him a text saying hi J, sorry if the joke upset you didnt mean to.

The next weekend i stayed at my aunties house this was nothing unusual as i stayed there LOADS. but this time would be differnt!

That night J's dad (i cant even say his name without feeling sick! so im not going to) asked me what happend and i pretend and said o nothing and blamed it on T. so then me and J's sister S went up to bed and watched Miss Conjeniality she fell asleep before it had finished she never could stay up late!

I heard footsteps up the stairs i pretended to be asleep because it was late! the door opended, light footsteps come towards the bed S was fast asleep i still kept my eyes shut. the smell of beer filled the room as J's dad come close to my face to see if i was awake. i heard rustling i opened my eyes slightly but not anuff for him to know. i heard russtling the sound of his shorts opening i herd fast movements the rest is blury then i felt a warm sensation run down my leg at the time i thought it was wee because of how young i was now i no what very well it was! then the russtling happend again but this time it was him pulling his shorts back up he left room and returned to his marital bed with his wife.

i couldnt think straight my heart pounded my head spinning i wiped my leg it was sticky slimy but no smell to back up my thoughts of wee! I opended my eyes praying for this to be a dream Miss Conjenialty still playing S still sleeping i held her so close i needed a wee i couldnt move with shock my body trempled i was sweating because of how tight i was holding her i finally slept.

A couple of days or so later i seen him in our local social club i was there with my step dad he knew nothing about it J's dad walked in put his head down brought hiself a drink sat down and ignored me i walked quickly to the toliets my eyes where stinging with tears my hands trembling. i knew i couldnt act like this so i didn’t

Some time after that the second time happend they had moved house i stayed in J's dad's daughter E's room while she was away. im not going to go into detail about that because i was awake when it happend and he was speaking to me while doing that to himself over me again and this is the one that makes me feel the worst.

The next time was at S's 17th birthday party again i wont go into any details but he never done anything but god forbid that time i think it would of been worse because i was abit drunk and he knew that but J pushed him out of the room and stayed with me that night J didnt know what happend miss conjenilaty night but it was because i was begging him to not leave me and stay with me.

I become increasinly unwell and developed anorixia and bulmia and was admited to a mental health unit for support and thats when it come out. it went to the police but because i didnt tell them until like 2 years on and becuase there was never any internal things happen there would be no evidence to back the case but the police believed me and when J's dad was being questioned he simply replied 'i cant remember' or 'i dont no'! then the police man said you know what you done we know what you done and he just looked at him with no expression. but quess what he said to his wife! he was arrested for trying to have sex with me! the police told his wife what he was arressted for but still stayed with him! al i can say about that is good luck to her and she musnt care about her f***ing kids cuz S was in the bed the first time!

my step dads family no longer speak to me because they believe him and not me they still think he was arrested for trying to have sex with me because his wife never told them.

I am no longer anorexic but i met a boy when we first done sexual things my mental health declined and i was put on anti depressents and i started self harming becasuse i just had flashbacks of what happend. I was told i have P.T.S.D due to it and have been on anti-depresents for 2 years and the doctors say im stil not ready to be taken of off them.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Jason2

by Jason
(Ottawa, Canada)

My story starts when I was 12. My parent's split up suddenly, specifically because my mom came out as a lesbian. I supported her for who she was. However, my dad didn't and there were many battles between us, beginning with him referring to my mother in derogatory, homophobic language, which was very painful for me to hear. When I challenged him on this it led to physical confrontations, where he would chase me around the house, pin me against a wall and twist my arm behind my back to the point that I thought it would break. All of this would take place in front of my younger siblings which was very humiliating. Anyways it got to the point where I needed to get out so I left home at the age of 16. I landed on the streets of a big city and was quickly engulfed in a world of sexual exploitation by other much older men. They used alcohol as a tool to subdue me, which to this day is unsettling, since what I remember about what happened was bad enough that I don't wish to consider what was done to me after I passed out. Anyways in some ways all of this feels like a lifetime ago but in others it feels like it is happening right now. I am in therapy and I'm finding that the more I delve into it the more vivid the memories become. Needless to say this is quite uncomfortable but it is better than walking around feeling numb.




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Child Abuse Story From Max C

by Max C
(USA)

A family destroyed: 
I had any other ordinary life. My parents were kind and nice. I was in a family of six. I had a younger sister and a older brother and an older sister. Things were great in my life untill I found out my older brother had been molesting my little sister. My brother was 14 years old and my little sister was eight years old. Apparently, the abuse went longer though and started when she was seven. She eventually told my mother who broke down crying. My mother remarried to a differnt man than my older brother and older sister's father. Her first husband was very abusive and would hit her and then rape her in front of my siblings. She eventually left him and met my dad but I never really understood the details of the traumatic event. Well, I guess when my mother found out she took my little sister and brother to differnt therapists and counseleors. My family was going through a hard time. It seemed everybody had to choose a side. My older sister and my mother with my older brother because they knew what he had been through. While my father and I were on my little sister's side. Everyday my parents would fight. Eventually my brother was "straightened" out and my little sister was "okay". This was not as it seemed. My mother would never admit to this but my brother kept molesting my sister. My older sister was in college and I just knew it was happening. I told him to stop and I felt like i had to protect her. I made sure she slept in my room and about that time she was nine. She told me some of the stuff he made her do and it was horrible (I won't go into to details but he did rape her)She had awful nightmares and was afraid of people. My household was still like a warzone. They stilled argued about the incident. At one point my mother made my brother apologize when she was eleven but the damage was done. She started to runaway from home. She started to cut herself and when I was fourteen she tried to kill herself. She just had endless cycles of self destructive behavior. My mother tried to help but all my sister would do was yell and scream at her. She refused to see my older brother and my sister since she was on my brother's side. I remeber when she turned seventeen she ranaway from home and never came back. I saw her once on the streets and asked her to stay at my house. She said she never wanted to be part of the family again. I listened to her talk and when she left, she gave her phone adress. When i tried to call it turned out to be fake. I feel as if I can't forgive my family. I wish my mom did something better because clearly just therapy and apologies didn't heal my sister.




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Child Abuse Story From Jayme For My Friend

by Jayme
(Quebec, Canada)

My bestie is being abused and I begged her to get help and she finally did. BUT! She had the police go to her house and she got a social worker she hated and right when things were going to get better, her brother got hit again. I first found this out when she came to school with a huge bruise on her knee and I asked what happened and she said that she fell on a baseball bat and that's when the story came out. Now, she still thinks she is worthless and thinks it is all her fault she said, "I just hope we don't do anything else wrong." and also, "if I was never here your lives would be the same." It is painful to see her like this. I can't stand to see someone I care about hate themselves like that.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Melia

by Melia
(Kansas, USA)

My mother would tell my little sister and I that she was giving us away. We lived on an island in the Pacific Northwest. The ferries stopped running for hours at night and my mother did this during that time. She would call out of bed and tell us to pack up. She would say it was because we didn't love her enough. she would say that my sister and I would never see each other again. She did this to us many times when we were between five and ten. By the later years we hoped to get away from her, but in the begining it was awful. She even made fake phone calls to "the people who would come get us when the ferry started running". We begged her to believe we loved her all through the night and in the morning when she was exausted, she would let "us stay for now". I can't forgive her for doing this to me.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Kristen4

by Kristen
(USA)

Scared, lonely, and wondering if I can go on: 
I am 39 years old. I am in so much pain right now, I wonder if I can make it through this. My mother was very emotionally abusive when I was a child. She would go into rages, scream, and yell. There was some physical abuse as well, but I don't feel like it effected me 1/2 as much as the emotional abuse. We were compared with others. She would do our homework, because we were not doing it well enough. She would get really mad, tell us she was going to kill herself, and then go hide on our ranch for hours. We would sit at home sobbing, wondering if our mom was going to kill herself, and we blamed ourselves. As an adult, her abuse of me has never stopped. My whole adult life, she has continued to do this. I have been put down, called names, and endured her rages. She stopped doing it completely to my brother and only does it very slightly to my sister. About a month and a half ago, my mom went into one of her rages. She called me a prostitute (in front of my 1 and 3 year old) because I had dated a man 20 years older than me about 5 years ago. She told me I had sex with him so he would fly me to his Condo in Florida. I did not talk to her after that. Then one day she came to my house and asked me why I had not called her. I said "You called me a prostitute, why would I want to have a relationship with you"? She then proceeded to list a bunch of men she THOUGHT I had slept with before I met my husband. I have not talked to her since. She never takes accountability for her words or actions. I am so damaged, I have had to walk away from her completely. It is so hard because it is your mother and you want her to love you. It didn't matter how hard I tried though or what I did, it was never good enough. I feel so depressed and scared that death sounds good. I absolutely HATE myself even though I am very smart and talented. I think I am a piece of crap. I have been to counselors. I have checked myself into a hospital for inpatient treatment for depression. I have been depressed since I was about age 16. I don't know what to do. I do not want to feel this way the rest of my life...it's not worth it. I have done really well with my children who are 1 and 3. I cannot understand how a mother could say or do those things to her child. I will never do that to my children. How could you? The other thing she did was pit all of us siblings against each other in competition, so we don't really even have each other now.




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Child Abuse Story From Kayleigh

by Kayleigh
(USA)

My grampa started abusing me about the age of 10. I came to live with my grandparents about a year earlier, before that I lived with my mom, but she was heavily into drugs and alcohol & one day I came home from school & she wasnt there. I spent the whole night alone, scared and hungry. The next day I called my grandma and she came and got me. My mom told her she couldnt take care of me any more. At first everything was great living with my grand parents. My grampa drove big trucks for a living and sometimes he would take me on the road with him, I think the most time we were gone at any one time was just a couple days. We would sleep in the sleeper together, I loved sleeping with Grampa, I felt safe, he would cuddle me & hold me tight, tell me stories until I fell asleep. Then things changed, my grandma got sick. My grampa couldnt stay home to take care of her because he had to make a living, so he put her in a nursing home and took me with him all the time. He would go to my school and get my homework for the week and I would do it on the road. When summer came around grampa was on the road for a week at a time, every night we would sleep in the sleeper together. One night as he was telling me a story his hands started to roam over my body. He had insisted earlier that I change into pajamas, that were just a thin pair of short bottoms & a thin little sleeveless top, something that he ahd never asked me to do before. It scared me when he started touching me but grampa had never hurt me before so I didnt tell him to stop. As time went on he touched me more and more, under my pajamas. All the time this was going on he would tell me things like if anything happened to him I would be left alone, my mom didnt want me and my grandma was too sick to take care of me. I guess he was planting ideas into my head to excuse his abuse of me, I realize this now, but at the time, all I knew was grampa was all I had so I continued to let him abuse me. He had me doing things to him that I have never been able to do to another man since. this went on for about 2 years until I was 13. My grampa suddenly died from a heart attack. After that I was in about 4 or 5 foster homes until finally I was adopted by a wonderful family at the age of 15. Ive never told anyone what my grampa did to me. I always felt they would blame me for letting him do that and not telling someone. Im trying to put it in my past and thought actually writing out what happened on paper would help me to better cope with it. Im 22 now, still dont date as I dont trust men very much, but Im working on it.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Liz1

by Liz
(USA)

I dont remember when it started but I remember every hit I got from my mom. My aunt told me a story when I was about 4 years old, she said that whenever my mom would start yelling at me for every little thing that I did, I would always cover my mouth. The reason for me covering my mouth was because even as a little kid I knew that when she was mad she would always slap my mouth. And whenever I didn't want to eat my soup, she threw it at me just because I didn't like it. I remember this one time, I had to do a Spanish project and I wanted to do it by myself and after I told my mom that i didnt need any help, she didnt listen. She started helping me ignoring what i was saying. Then I started crying because she wouldnt listen and thats when she got really mad. She started yelling at me and chased me around the house screaming and threatening me. I can remember what I was feeling, the paper that I had on my hand shook roughly because I was shaking in fear. I was terrified. She would tell me how im such a disgrace, tell me that i wasnt her daughter, or that she wished that someone would take me away. I got kicked out of the house twice when i was thirteen. I got hit by a belt for accidentally losing some money. There was this one time, I was in the 8th grade and we got into a huge fight because my dad called a child abuse company to come to talk to me at school. She punched me on my arm, hard enough that my chest started hurting the next day, and slapped me across the face, hard enough to make blood come out of my mouth. And then the next day, she grabbed me and pushed me down on the floor and then told me to kneel down and she would get in my face and scream at me implying how this was all my fault and then she kicked me out.

I was hanging out with some friends outside on my street and i asked my mom if they can come to our house to hang out and she said no and asked me where i was and i told her i was at the corner of our street with some guys. Then I saw her coming down the road in her car and she told me to get in, after I said my good byes. I got in the car and thats when the yelling started. Why? For not telling her where I was or why I didnt tell her that I was with guys and screamed at me telling me how Im doing horrible in math when she knows im trying my best but doesnt seem to notice that. I yelled back at her, standing up for myself and I told her how rude she was and how annoying it was when she screams at me for every little thing that I did, as if I wasn't good enough. She got more mad and slapped my arm and then grabbed a snow brush and hit my arm and my wrist twice with it, leaving a huge red mark. Again, wishing that someone would take me away. And she wonders why I never communicate with her or be nice to her or tell her how much I care about her or respect her. How can I respect someone if they havent shown any respect to me?

I've always wondered if I was ever going to be good enough for anybody. It almost seems like every little thing that I did was always the wrong thing to do. And she's always claiming that she loves me and is only 'disciplining' me so I can learn. But so far... I haven't learned anything.




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Child Abuse Story From Kerri

by Kerri
(USA)

I'm not sure how old I was when it happened, I just know by the time I was 7 or 8, he wasn't around anymore. It could have been years before or maybe just months. I don't have any memories except for two incidents of the abuse. One physical and one sexual. (Side note: I'm very scatter brained- sorry if I'm all over the place and if it doesn't make sense) It was from my step-father at the time, which screwed me up. I've been told it was more than just those two things, but that's all I remember. I suppose that was my way of trying to protect myself, trying to forget. But if that's true, that's what kids do to protect themselves, then why would the two memories that I'm sure are just as bad as whatever else happened to me, be so vivid, drilled into my brain like it happened yesterday?

I have never spoke about this or wrote about this except for when, I guess my mom found out it was happening to me. That's another memory I blocked out, being asked what he did to me. I don't understand how any of this works, some memories you keep and some get tossed out of your mind. I'm sure I would have forgotten all of them, if I wasn't constantly reminded that I'm screwed up because I was molested. Any emotions I have or show to my family (sad or anger), they say it's cuz I'm screwed up from what happened to me and I should get help.

One of the two memories that I remember is of him picking me up with one hand by my throat, choking and yelling at me for what seemed like forever. We were in the kitchen – me, my brother (2 yrs older than me), my mom and step-father. I threw one of my brothers GI-Joe guys because he wanted it back. My step-father got pissed at me for doing that and choked me. My mom was screaming and yelling at him to put me down. She comforted me while I caught my breath, and then that's it for that memory. But I remember exactly where I was when I threw the toy and where me and my step-father were standing when he choked me.

As for my other memory, it is of me and him in my room. My bed was next to the window in my room. I'm laying down looking out the window, its dusk, summer time, the street lights just turned on. I can see my best friend's older brother playing with a remote control car right outside my window. My step-father used to sing me Irish lullaby's or read me stories when he put me to bed. I'm assuming that's when he always did this to me. He gave me oral as I just laid there looking out my window, watching my friends brother. That's all I remember of what he did to me. I don't know if I said no or stop or anything.

I've been told a couple other things that have happened, but they are not my memories. I've been to a few therapists as a kid. I don't even remember talking about anything with them, I just remember being there. I think the only reason I remember any of this, is because whenever I'm sad, mad or upset; I over react to some things. Well after I freak out about whatever, I'm told that I'm so screwed up because of so and so and what he did to me. I wish they'd stop reminding me. I believe for awhile maybe I had no memories of it at all, just somewhere along the line those two worked their way into my head from being reminded of what happened to me, so much. And they constantly tell me I need help and need to talk to someone. Yeah maybe now I do, but before I didn't think I needed to. What would I talk about if I can't remember? Well now, I probably do need help, but I think it's too late. I don't know how to talk about anything, what I feel or want with anyone. I was put in the hospital a couple of years ago for a few weeks for almost killing myself. Wow I could make this story so long, I didn't realize how much I do have to say when I have never talked about it once before in my life. I'm going to try to keep this as short as I can, even though it's already long.

Well anyway I'm 26 yrs old now and I feel I can't or shouldn't have any kids because the world is so screwed up, especially me. I don't want my kids to be screwed up because I can't control my temper (I'm a pretty angry person) or what a stranger or even a family member could do to a poor helpless child. I would lose my mind if I had a child and something bad happened to him/her. I know that I don't know how to have a normal relationship because I don't trust anyone; every guy cheats no matter what, whether it's now or later. I don't ever want to get married because all marriages end in divorce, so why waste your time and money on a piece of paper?

I wrote this awhile ago, and still haven't posted it. I'm scared because that means I actually talked about it and someone other than me knows what I'm feeling and how disgusting I am for feeling that way. I recently found my ex-step-fathers phone number and address. I haven't reacted on any of it, but I REALLY want to. I'm just going to post this before I change my mind again even though I'm already getting anxiety from thinking about posting it.
Thanks for this website
Kerri




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Jo3

by Jo
(Scotland)

Ten years of age: 
I was only ten i thought i knew every thing i s'pose i didn't or i would have known what was going on. He was my sisters boyfriend and at first he was nice then one time my older sister and him were baby sitting me, my sister went to the shop so he tucked me into bed. i always wented 'huggies' from him but this 'huggie' was diffrent he at first just put his hands round my waist then moved further down my body down to my 'private' and went to put his hands inside me. i was in pain but kept silent. i was scared. then he kept doing it for ages and asked me if i liked it i said yes afraid. My sister came back and she was down stairs so he left my bedroom with a kiss. I was so scared. The next i didnt know wether to tell anyone i didn't. the same thing continued for about a year when he and my sister finaly spilt up. i've only ever told my best friend that promised she wouldn't tell anyone. But resently i just keep thinking about it, the pain on everytime he did it. i know there are much worse but this is mine and its the only one i've ever lived through.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Kimberly S

by Kimberly S
(California, USA)

This is where it all started May 17,1998: 
My birthday i came on earth,my mom was 16 and wanted to give me away dad was not at the hospital at the time he was in jail. My mom and dad were teen druggies. As i grew to about 2 years old, they talked to me, laughed with me, but it wasnt all that great. At 3 years old i remember the fights. My mom screaming, my dad yelling even louder pushing,shuving,hair pulling. I remember it all. They tried so hard to do what was right for me. As months pased, i was 4 i remember my uncle, richy, spent the night, ther the comotion went,it became normal to me. Richy and i were lying on the couch, me silently praying for it ALL to stop. Him holding me tightly against him, making sure not to let go. My grandma and cousins would come by to take me swimming. It was so much fun. To get away.Then it was time to go home. Then the smile on my face slowly went away.

I went in the doorway, afraid. Dad hit me alot most of the time left bruises. Thats one of the reasons mom and dad would fight.One time i remember sittings in my room,watery eyes,lips trembling telling my stuff animal to make it all stop. It wasnt going to help anything. I heard my mom scream and hurried over and was banging my dad with my stuff animal as hard as i could. A coupkle months later i was sitting in my room listening to my mom scream of hurt. Then a moment later i heard sirens. I was so afraid of police,they were so tall,and those black suits. Well i was afraid of any funtcional person. A while later, i started first grade. On Dec.13th my teacher spotted my bruises and called C.P.S. in no time at all i was taken away to a foster home.

I remember my very first fist fight, it all happened there with my foster moms grandaughter. She ran to the living room and told. Then my foster mom said, "Go to your room, you bad white girl!" abought two weeks later, my grandma called and announced she won custody over me in court. I was so happy. There was finally no more yelling, or hitting. I got good grades, but then a year and a half later it was time to go home with mommy. Mommy looked nicer now, she really cleaned herself up in this tharepy rehab place. But soon after mommy relapsed alot then got emotionally abusive, then one thing led to another,and dad moved in and so its all here again....

kimberly s

I'd like to dedicate this to CAT and MC (initials replaced full names in order to protect privacy) thanx for always being there and if this is going on in your life you need to stop it by talking to an adult/friend/teacher or 1 800 96ABUSE (1 800 96 22873) 24/7




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Ann O For My Son

by Ann O
(Hobart, Australia)

This story is not about my own personal abuse as I was brought up by very loving parents who respected me and made me feel like a very special person. The story is about my son and daughter. Up until the point of my having 'our first baby' my ex husband was a very kind, considerate, gentlemanly sort of person. Following the birth of our first born and my becoming a stay at home mum there was a total personality change ... he became a control freak, wanting to know where I was going, how I spent money from our bank account, having arguments when I decided to do things like joining a Squash Club etc., locking me out of the house if I was later than I said I would be. My son still remembers me throwing stones at his bedroom window so he could let me into the house (no, I didn't carry the house keys, he also had control of them), what a sad pathetic person I was back then to let him have this control over me. He also believed I was having an affair. When my son turned 7 years old his father started to 'discipline' him. My son would be sitting on the sofa, bathed, wearing his pyjamas, watching a television program before going to bed. His father would poke him on the arm, my son would say "daddy, please stop", his father would continue this irritation until my son's bottom lip started to quiver (near the point of tears), his father would then say to him "you are expressing annoyance, you need some punishment, go to your room". As I sat there, holding my daughter, who was 3 and who knew what was going to happen, I remember feeling sick and powerless and close to tears ... his father would leave this little 7 year old boy waiting in his bedroom for him for anything up to 30 minutes, his father would then go into the room and hit our son. I can hear my son's words clearly "don't hit me daddy", I sat there (powerless, knowing that if I had intervened the 'punishment' on my son would worsen, so my 3 year old daughter and I sat there, waiting for it to be over. This became a repeated 'exercise' and as my son grew older the punishment became harder.

On one occasion his father was giving him 'discipline' and a friend came to collect him for a Masonic meeting, I was in the kitchen crying into a tea towel, the friend heard "daddy don't hit me" come from Alan's bedroom, he looked at me in shock and said "what is going on?" I said "that is .... disciplining our son", the friend's mouth dropped open in disbelief, finally someone had been the 'real behaviour' of my husband, and not the side that he wanted everyone else to see. So far as friends were concerned we had a very happy family life. My neighbour once said to me "I wish ... was like ... he always brings you flowers". How could I say to her that's because he called me a s**t in front of my children and he is now saying sorry". To this day, I have told my current husband "never bring me flowers after an argument" and explained what flowers meant to me.

Today, my son who is now 35 is still suffering from this abuse by his father. In the end I divorced this very cruel man and my son has also 'divorced' his father, in no uncertain words!!!! He still remembers his childhood as though it was yesterday, he is aware of why he feels the way he does, and his father? well he 'can't remember' any of this and believes himself to have been a good father and of course his new wife believes my son to be a 'violent, bad tempered man', my son, who was the most beautiful happy child until the age of 7. Both my children were bed wetters and nail biters.

The abuse didn't end with my son, then my daughter was the next to suffer. She was not hit, but was 'emotionally battered' by her father constantly referring to the fact that she was 'fat'. He once caught her about to eat one biscuit and have a glass of milk one day after school (she was with her brother, as I was working full time at that stage). He said to her "don't you think you are fat enough, put that back". He made her pour the milk back into the bottle (she knowing that if she spilt a drop he would hit her) and put the biscuit back into the biscuit tin. After years of covering her body up with larger clothes, going through years of lack of self esteem, believing herself to be so big (when she wasn't) my daughter is now a happily married 33 year old with a beautiful husband who has the most gentle, caring nature. She is proud of how she looks (and she looks beautiful). She is still friends with her father, she 'does not remember' the way he made her feel, I imagine this is her way of coping. She and her brother do not get along, as he frequently loses his temper when he is with her and this must surely remind her of her father? without her actually perhaps realising this.

I finally left this man after years of mental abuse, yes, I too was the victim of his cruelty. Feeling unattractive and stupid. I will forever reproach myself for not protecting my children from him and for not leaving sooner. When I did leave his son decided to stay with him (he was 17 at this stage), my daughter was 14 and came to live with me... (I found out later so he could be closer to his friends where he lived) and that he didn't like to leave his father on his own (I will never work this out)... my son actually hates his father, the same way as I do, and I will never forgive him for what he did to our children. What he did to me doesn't matter ... I was able to move on, (following two years of psychotherapy) but my son is stuck in this place of the past in his emotions and will not go and discuss this with anyone. He realises he is suffering from PTSD and why. I believe his father was treated this way his father and that both my ex husband and son now suffer from PTSD (which has never been addressed by either of them). My son has told me he will never have children while he thinks there is any chance he would treat them as he was treated. I have told him that the fact that he is aware of this is what will change the dynamics of this.

I love my children dearly, but there is no worse place on earth than to be a mother and to witness your children being emotionally and physically battered by their father who is actually 'jealous' of them, and of being afraid to step in and protect them knowing that it would have made things worse for the children and the punishment harsher. As it was one of the ongoing expressions the father used was "you three against me". To this day I feel I did not do a good job as a mother, although my children tell me I did.

I thank God that things have changed these days and that there are laws to prevent this sort of treatment of children, there are places for women to go, to go with their children to keep each other safe, there is counselling to help to get over these traumas. I can only say to anyone who is reading this story if you, or your children are being abused in any way, don't excuse it, as I did, don't put up with it, fight back, get out, there is help out there for you. Talk to people, those people who think you have a wonderful relationship and are shocked when you leave, tell them HOW IT REALLY IS, don't pretend, yes, life is a stage and we are the players, but how much acting do we have to do!!!!!!!!!!

To my children, they will never know how badly I feel because of what happened. Every time I speak with my son and hear his anger, frustration, unhappiness, depression, who do I blame, not his father, I blame myself for not protecting him, because I was afraid of how badly he would be treated if I did step in. How I wish I had picked up my children when they were 7 and 4 and walked away, but I had nowhere to go, my family was in the UK, I had no cash to leave, but these days, do the right thing both for yourself and your children. I hope this story helps someone who reads it and who is in the same position.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Mark2

by Mark
(Arizona, USA)

I've been responding to other survivors' truly tragic abuse stories on this website for two months, but I lacked the courage to tell my own story until now. I'd like to first thank Darlene and everyone who has shared his/her story. You've all given me the courage to tell mine. Please be kind... My story is slightly different from others, and not nearly as tragic, but I'm making a pioneering effort in telling it. Because it's different, I realize now that this is EXACTLY the reason why it must be told.

I was an average boy growing up, except for feeling different from other boys because I was uncircumsized (this is relevant later). I was also very innocent about sex. My parents are both very conservative and had never discussed sex with me.

I had a group of neighborhood friends I liked very much. One of them, however - we'll call him Todd - was manipulative and used to get me in trouble. He would say something like, "Go tell that girl she has big jugs," and I, being clueless, would do it. I didn't know I was helping to hurt people's feelings. He made it seem like a game.

And then...the night that changed my whole life...

I was around eleven years old. I was sleeping over at Todd's house. He started goofing around, giggling and taking off his clothes, saying he would show me his if I showed him mine, etc. I just thought it was a game, so I went along. Then he wanted to try out some other stuff.

This is the difficult part for me. I knew to beware of child molesters, adults wearing dark trenchcoats and holding out candy, but I never knew why. I thought the worst they would do to you was spank you. I NEVER thought a child molester could be a child himself. How can you accuse a KID of molesting you when he's the SAME AGE as you? At the time (and even now) this was largely unheard of. Plus, it seemed at the time that girls were the ones society focused on protecting from child molesters; therefore, I didn't really think a boy would be targeted.

My sexual immaturity, innocence, and Todd's influence over me, explain, I hope, why I didn't defend myself when he raped me. He wasn't spanking me, and I had no concept of sex. In fact, I was intrigued by his circumsized erection, because I had never seen one, not even my own. I knew what we were doing was secret, but I thought it was no more secret than skinny-dipping or going to the bathroom. He seemed to know what he was doing so much, I just assumed this was something boys did.

Afterward, however, I felt that something was wrong, and I felt guilty about not having stopped it. Todd must have felt something was wrong, too, because he turned my life into a living hell (probably to discredit me should I tell anyone what he did). First, he formed an "I hate Mark" club with my neighborhood friends. They all turned on me. He must have told them lies, because I had been a good friend to them. Then he discredited me at school by lying to all of my classmates. In one week or so, I was living with the shame of being raped, I had lost all of my friends, and everyone at my school hated me. My grades fell drastically, and I didn't feel I could tell my family about my shame (let alone my confusion about my sexuality that comes with this type of abuse). I was extremely depressed and suicidal. To make matters worse, because guys at school hated me and knew I was timid, I was bullied something awful. I recently wrote down over fifty instances of being bullied in junior high and high school.

I somehow completed high school and went to college to become a teacher. A few months of teaching, however, convinced me I couldn't do it. Every time a child said something derogatory to me, it would catapult me back to high school. I quit teaching and don't even consider it as a career anymore.

I haven't worked in a few years. I'm afraid to be around people other than my family. I moved back in with my parents, because I can't support myself. I have few friends, and even those are fair-weather friends. I'm very distrustful of others. I am a virgin, I have never been in love with a woman (or a man), and I doubt that I ever will. My love life was murdered on that night, when I was eleven years old.

I have been in and out of counseling for years, but the therapist I'm seeing now is good; she helped me to see that my experience really was ABUSE, and that it WASN'T my fault at all. A child CAN be abused by someone close to his/her own age. THAT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THIS STORY.

If ANYONE else out there has had similar experiences by someone close to your age or even younger, it IS abuse. Don't think it's just acceptable "playing" between kids. If a teenage boy has sex with a teenage girl, it's technically considered statutory rape, isn't it? Why then is it not considered statutory rape between two boys (or girls), or any children of similar ages?! I haven't yet heard of a law that confirms this, but laws are getting changed all the time, and society is, I think, slowly accepting this. So, to anyone else out there with a similar experience, DON'T GIVE UP. YOU'RE NOT ALONE. It happened to me, too. Society will eventually recognize our traumas, so hang in there.

I'll admit that I'm scared to see what comments (if any) my story will receive. Remember that this is a pioneering work, and may challenge your views. I'm sorry if it does. I just wrote it because I hope it'll help someone else.

I'm afraid of people, but I really do love them. I love all of you on this website - I truly do. I'm sorry for all of your pain, and I pray that you all get better. You can't know how much love, tears, and gratitude I have for all of you. More than you know.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.
Mark




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Emily5

by Emily
(Location Undisclosed)

I am only 13. My father has abused me my entire life. Nobody knew until I told my friend. She was also abused so i thought she might understand. My dad yelled and hit me nightly. Screaming and punching. When i was only three he locked me in a celler for 2 days. He threw an entire closet of shoes at me. Then the rack they were on. He burned my back with a cigaritte. He whipped my stomach. He told me i wasnt good enough. He didnt give me food. There are 2 other kids in my family but he never hits them only me. Sometimes he will disappear for months at a time. I tell my friends he is on a buisness trip. I just want to be perfect. Be honors and straight As. Its hard keeping up on your homework when your hungry and hurt lying in a corner. I cant tell on him. He is my father, by that i mean biological father because he is not a dad.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From TAB

by TAB
(Connecticut, USA)

I am truly shocked I am still living, either by choice or just in general. Both of my parents were horrifically abusive to me. They took out every possible BIT of anger, hatred, frustration and rage on me physically, emotionally and verbally. My older brother didn't receive 1% of the abuse I endured; perhaps because he is male, larger. I am petite and female. Every possible put down, degrading comment, ridiculing laughter, coupled with bone crushing physical abuse; you name it, I withstood it. Hair pulling, jaw crushing, hand crushing, sexual innuendo and ridicule. I will turn 43 in March and have thought of suicide every day of my life since I even knew what suicide was. I am so damaged, although I work every single day at a regular job and perform animal rescue work daily, because I truly understand how animals are abused as cruelly as children. I specialize in rehabilitating abused animals and only adopt terminally ill and abused animals because, otherwise, they would have nobody else and would perish as a result.

Some 30 years ago, there were no social service organizations in place to remove me from my horrible environment and I went to the police a couple of times, but the police laughed at me and didn't even question my mom. I was hurt and bewildered that reports were barely written down. When my mom found out I had reported her to the police, the physical violence was so painful and frightening I knew nothing would happen to her FOR reporting her, so I never went to the police again. If THEY didn't care, THIS is why my parents, as well as parents EVERYWHERE are consistently getting away with abusing their children under the guidelines of corporal punishment. My entire life, at that point, I'd been suspiciously questioned as to what III could have been doing to "provoke" my parents into chronically screaming at me and smashing me every day. Nobody believed I wasn't doing anything but EXISTING. To this day, I just cannot fathom why they'd loathed and despised me so much. They never hid their disgust and hatred for me and sneered and jeered at me constantly. I had no encouragement for any activities I liked to participate in and my parents refused to watch me at my school band concerts or any outside activities. I don't know HOW I graduated high school.

I could not even confide in my friends, because I was being crushed and hit and my hair was being pulled and I was being slammed against walls and the floor every single day. If I confided in anybody and then my parents were questioned, I would have been killed for sure. To this day, Mom refuses to accept what she did to me under the loose guidelines of "discipline" and to read the basic needs which should have been met (under child neglect on this informative website), I am just shocked how I literally made it out alive. My dad died in 1988. My mother repeatedly threatened to kill me and the physical trauma I've withstood is staggering. I can only imagine how many other children/now adults still suffer the absolute bewilderment, shame, trauma and sadness of their upbringing all because nobody asks them what is wrong and if they need help.

I cried literally nonstop and positively NOBODY asked me why. Nobody ever even asked me how I was. My parents were clever enough to make me out to be the bad child and why I was being "disciplined" when all I did was quietly sit and draw, but even my own quiet pursuits enraged my parents and were met with physical violence and that nonstop hateful commentary. If I laughed or demonstrated any form of personality other than the subdued/repressed one which they forced me to act like by hitting me until I was silent, I was severely reprimanded until I was mute. I was never allowed to play music that was remotely audible or have any fun. I was a slave around the house; from childhood onward, being forced to cook and clean every single day and positively no praise or thanks was issued; I received nothing but disgust, criticisms, enraged screaming and put-downs and the always present physical "punishment" when I didn't perform a task perfectly. I could not complain or defend myself or I would be hit harder and more frequently. I ran away twice to the same neighbors' home and they didn't even ask me why. They cheerfully handed me over to Mom when she came looking for me like she was some sort of concerned parent. If I had friends over to the house, Mom would fly into a rage and embarrass me by screaming at me and physically attacking me until I had no friends left which was her precise modus operandi * to keep me isolated with her with no witnesses to view her horrific treatment of me. The kids all made fun of me in school and NOBODY reported the abuse they'd all witnessed. To this day, I cannot fathom why nobody questioned my mother. I always had matted hair and unkempt clothing. I was always sick and missed a lot of school, not that I cared because I hated going and being abused there, too. NONE of my pediatricians EVER questioned my CHRONIC illnesses and depression and I had an ulcer by the time I was 12 and instead of being treated kindly, I was laughed at and praised by those doctors for adding to their retirement funds by my chronic visits to their offices. I was constantly bruised and I had virtually nothing to eat. To this day, I rifle through garbage containers and find food the commuters have discarded so I have extra food; I was THAT starving for THAT long. EVERYBODY saw I brought virtually no food to eat for lunch at school and only once did a curious teacher ask me why, but she did not follow through nor did she offer me any food. Buying lunch at school was a complete luxury that didn't occur more than a few times and only by begging for weeks on end until I received the reluctantly given-out 50c to buy lunch. I received only 25c per week allowance for years; precisely what could I buy with that and when I complained, I was jeered at and questioned as to why I deserved more than 25c per week when my brother who did positively NOTHING around the house, earned a higher allowance which they refused to disclose to me. How do you see a girl crying every day, starving, doing poorly in school because she is so clearly traumatized by her upbringing and do NOTHING? It is very interesting that now the LAW states that child abuse must be reported but so few people get involved. What an ugly family secret and such a tragic way of life for children. I swear I don't know why I have remained living. I stay alive for the animals, otherwise, I could care less whether I live or die.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

I hope you'll follow me on:


Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.

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Child Abuse Story From Shanice

by Shanice
(North England and the midlands)

I'm 13 and think I may have been abused by my dad from a very young age but especially as from the ages of 8-13 coz that's when he got with my mum.

He may have emotionally abused me. He called me names like 'chubby', denying me of having the ocassional chocolate bar. He'd make me feel guilty of being nasty to him, saying that I made him feel like s**t, and I was a horrible, disrespecful little girl etc. He'd yell at me and yell at me for something like asking him to turn the tv daan a bit coz I'm doing my homework. It would make me cry and then when I'd try run upstairs, he'd block me. Finally I'd manage to and he'd try throw something at me as I was running upstairs. God, it was scary. I wouldn't feel able to go daan until he'd gone pub. And then couldn't do my homework.

Once, he chased me with a knife, I dunno how long for but it felt like time. I was only 2. I tried to close the door, pushing against it but he'd force it open and I was trapped. Such a vivid memory of it.

He'd chase me upstairs, swaring at me and obviously he could run way faster than I could but i'd run up and hide under the covers cos there'd be nowhere else to run ta. Then when he'd catch me it would be horrible but I can't actually remember what ud happen.

I also think he may've sexually abuse me. But I only have vague memories and they seem kinda cut off like there's more to them but I just cant remember it. He's licked me face whilst climbing on top of me before. He touched me when I was really little but it was after a bath so it was probably nothing. Then I had a dream (probably not true though), that he asked me to have sex with him and I half wanted to but half didn't. But then it was like he'd already made me mind up baat it. I felt ashamed at times, and like I wanted to turn back. Then sometimes I felt really turned on to the point when I asked him to do oral sex on me. He just laughed and mocked me. But I thought it would impress him and make im feel even more turned on. I dunno if we ever did have sex cos then the dream kinda fast forwudded to the day after and I felt really dirty and ashamed, as if I was naked infront of theh whole world and they wanted to perv on me. I remember almost kinda thinking of im as me boyfriend, like I was is special girl. I remember him walking across the landing to be naked. It was in the middle of the day but I felt I was doing summfen wrong by looking at him and I think summet else musta happened cos the memory just went off. I remember being very sexually aware at a young age too. I hated people touching me (in a completely innocent and responsible way), I felt very uncomfortable with it.

I also remember im biting me at the same time as he licked me face. He'd do it repeatedly. When he'd climb on top of me, lick me face, bite me arms etc. I felt like I deserved it coz the very first time he did it was when I was 8 and we were arguin over the tv controll and then it was like he was holding it up in the air so I could catch it or summet so I hit him on the arm but he's muscley so I thought it wunt hurt him. Then he'd lick my face, bite my arms, climb on toppa me. I think I bit him many a times too, mebbe even first. But how wud a know to unless he'd done it to me? I'd get very embarassed and uncomfortable and then be like, 'getoff, you idiot!'. Then he'd get really mad at me and look completely repulsed at me like I was some worthless mardy git. So I thought, 'omdays, I was so rude, I deserved what I got. I wont tell me mum cos I'm too embarassed of talking about him being dirty and too embarassed of me being rude, and too embarassed of sounding stupid so he'd say it wasn't like that at all'.

Sorry if I rambled, I hope you understood wha a said (besides me accent) and all the ramblin :)

Thank you for listening to me
<3




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Child Abuse Story From Anonymous38

by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)

I am 13 years old. I am confused with life right now. I know my story isn't as bad as other stories on here, but pain is the only emotion i feel. My parents aren't people that beat me,chain me , and all that stuff. But when it comes to displining it gets kind of out of hand. My dad is a loving person...most of the time. But when we don't follow his rules or hes not happy with us, he shows his form of disipline. There was this one time when i was in 2nd grade and i wouldn;t focus on my piano and I was talking back. He hit me to the floor and started kicking me...then my nose started to bleed and he still wouldn't stop...until my mom backed him away. My mom was basically a person who tried to pull him back every single time he would show his form of "disipline". Me and my father have had a good relationship together. But as i get older the relationship is falling apart. This week i've experienced his form of disipline twice. When my mom was not home my dad barged into my room telling me to clean my room. I said it i would as soon as i finished my homework. Then i told himm not to barge in my room again. He steppe towards me grabbing my hair and pulling it back...then punching me repeatdly on the back of my head. My mom doesnt know about this...because I dont share Stuff like this she doesnt know about. He did this for approximetly 20 seconds...but it felt like an hour...and i didnt think it would stop. After I experiece these things all i feel is Deep pain. HAtred. Betrayal. I wonder how could a father who actually loved their own daughter do that to her...how could you live with yourself knowing you hit and hurt your own child...someone thats part of you. Then I fell into a state of deep depression...I put on a fake smile at school seeming like i'm this happy girl with a normal life...but really I'm dying on the inside. When hes not happy sometime and shows his displine he grabs me by the ear and just twists...and twists... He has a loud voice tooo...and when he screams its like the sky is going to fall down. My Dad doesnt beat me on a regular basisc...its just that if i screw up or dont follow his rules....He'll either yelll...or if hes not in a good moood...displine. i'm not sure if this is considered child abuse. But i wanted to share my story out with everyone. I know every other story on this websoite is way more gruesome than mine. But i jsut wanted to get my feeelings out. Thank you.




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Child Abuse Story From Michelle F

by Michelle F
(Missouri, USA)

Don't know when it started: 
I am 38,I lived with my mom my sister my dad's two sons, between the age of birth and 7,I remember some things like I was scared of my dad and he would beat my mom. But I always took up for him with my siblings. Now they tell me I just block all of that part of my life out. They won't tell me what happened. I told them he never did anything to me, they say I just blocked it out.

Then my mom met another guy and got married and she worked all the time, he would always slap me and whip me, and my older sister, then he started touching me and would hit me if I pulled away, or he would find some reason to whip me. So I would just lay there and go somewhere in my mind, sometimes I do remember some things, he wanted oral sex I was not doing it right so he just started beating me. He would make threats of beating me up and whipping me till blood came out of my legs if I told. I was scared my mom wouldn't believe me or she would confront him and he would lie then she'd leave me with him again.

His son also would come in my room all I could do was cry and not be there in my mind. I had a little girl and was too protective of her, I told watch out men can hurt you, you let me know if they do, that was an every minute of the day reaction with me till she got tired of it. She is 21 now. I still can't get passed what I don't even remember. All I know is shame and hurt and misplaced trust.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Emily4

by Emily
(USA)

Emotionally abused and sometimes physically: 
I'm now 21 years old but I'd like to talk about what happend to me when I was younger and some of what happens now. I dont really remember when it all started happening. I was always the "problem child" I guess. I had always had an issue with being bullied at school and I spent most of my life being called ugly by several people. I had very low self-esteem and it seemed like my parents could not understand why I cried all the time.

Then my parents started fighting and things seemed to get worse and worse. My dad would scream at me and tell me that i was stupid and I would never amount to anything and mom would just stand back and let him say those things. Sometime he would grab me by the hair and throw me to the ground when I'd try to get away from him. or he'd block me from being able to get away from him. After a while, I started to believe them because they're your parents and what they say has to be right, yeah? So I started to not do my work at school and all I wanted to do at home was sleep or read. I mean, if I was stupid why should i put any effort into anything? My grades dropped and they started to put me on all these medications for ADHD (which I don't have) and sending me to a psychiatrist. He never helped either. He was always on my parents side and I never really felt like I could discuss my problems with him.

By age 12 I was overly obsessed with porn and masturbation because my parents never talked to me about it, or if they did it was to say anything sexual before marriage was a sin. So I did what felt good to me. But I didnt have sex until I was 18. And when my mom found out that i had, she said in the most hateful voice possible, "Well, you cant wear white on your wedding day now." and then walked out of the room. She never apologized either.

My dad has threatend to punch me, kill me, hurt me so bad I'll never be able to walk again, etc. etc. He's called me a whore, and made sure that each of my boyfriends know that each guy i meet I have to spread my legs for. Which is not true in the least. I have slept with several guys but it isnt every guy i meet. Dad even told my husband that I've got the mentallity of a 12 year old! He's always putting me down and telling me that I'm immature and have no idea what i'm doing, and that I need to grow up when he and mom never would let me grow up. I was never aloud to go out with friends, join clubs at school, I wasnt aloud to recieve presents from friends, and the only thing that I could really call my own was my drawing. My diaries were read, my room gone through, my parents would take stuff and sell it without telling me, I had to password protect my laptop so they wouldnt read all of my stuff. I was told that if I wanted to live in their house, I'd have to follow their rules so even when I was 18, scratch that, even at 21 they would make it so I felt trapped in the house- no going out with friends or if I did I had to be home by a certain time. I can understand wanting to protect your child, but dont you think that's a little overboard?

I wasnt allowed to handle my own money. My parents were the only ones with acces to my money, (money I earned at work!) And if I spent it on anything they didnt like- clothes, movies, ect. I was severely punished. Mind you this is after I turned 18. I got a tattoo and my mom ordered me to go get removed. When I said no, she slapped me across the face and told me I was a worthless child and then demanded that I pay her the $85 it cost me to get the tattoo like it was her money I used!

Anyway, I now have a wonderful husband and a baby on the way and I'm just hoping that I can raise this baby better than my parents did me.

(I hope this didnt come out as a jumbled mess. I had a lot of conflicting thoughts that wanted to get out at the same time, so it may be kinda confusing. Sorry bout that.)




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Elle1

by Elle
(Ohio, USA)

im 12 years old im from ohio i dont know if this is abuse or not my parents fite all the time when i was 4 i remember every sunday night they faut i remember siting behind the couch with my sister ems 6 praying and wishing they would stop my dad has a very bad temper my mom to now here ar the things they do to me mostly my dad he put a bar of sop in my moth he gives me the belt he hit me and punched me a couple of times my mom pulls my hair he told me he was going to send me away two times hes almost always yeling at me teling me hes taking my dog away so is this normal he realy scars me im nervis arond him i realy love my mom and dad but most the time i dont think they love me he hits me with the belt so hard i have bruses every ware wene hes mad he thros books ate my mom like a 10 or 12 pond book she hade a a big bruse one time from the book i think my dad smoks im not sher they always get mad wen im in my room but they wonder why im in my room all the time we also live with my grandma she gets mad easy one time she cald me an ass I dont know if this is normel




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Erie

by Erica
(Iowa, USA)

I am 14 and i've been emotionally abuse ever since i could remember. I live most of my life out of spite. Sometimes i would consider suiside, but then i realized that would be letting them win. So, i decided to live just out of spite. When i was little i was phisically abused too, but that stopped. At one point i got picked up by my hair for letting the daycare kid;s boots get dirty. By the way no worries about them they love her she loves tham... no harm at all. I am not exactly posittive why, but my parent's have mostly switched rolls. When i was little If u got in trouble u went to dad and we were terrified, but if i think of it now mom was a whole lot worse. Dad would yell and he is really loud, but mom would go off on me about how im always doing thing wrong and i am worth nothing. She can be great, but u have 2 watch what u say around her because if u say 2 much she will use it againt you later. My little brother hates it because she hates me and even my friends are starting to notice. She loves my brother. He is her angel. Whenever something goes wrong... well its no fun. There was this one night when we were gonna have tacos and my brother accidently dropped all of the taco shells and she went off on how he did it on purpose and crap. And i am known for not being very emotional, and being mean to my brother, but i love him to death amd cant stand to see him hurt. Everything she says effects him and he just weeps. It breaks my heart. So when she went off on him i screamed back in her face and then my dad started going off on me and chased me to my room, but i have this alcove to hide in that he cant get into. So i ran nto their because i was terrified cuz he would have like seriouly hurt me my mom was downstaris alreading getting over it/ not wanting a hospital bill and started screaming leave her alone, and then he started saying the only things that could hurt me anymore, that it was all my fault that my dwarf bunny got out and my kitten killed him. My mom finally got him out, but she had to drag me out of the alcove because i live in the attic kind of, so it was really hot because it was summer and i would get heat stroke and then she let me eat upstairs. I think my parents are bipolar or something... one minute the say they love me and the next they want to hurt me. See i slowly sealed off my heart from her words and have become quite an actress. My pets are the only place i show any love, but i dont show that 2 most of the world. My brother thinks i hate him and so does everyone else, but i cant show him how i love him. I give him candy and little presnts all the time and this year he wanted rabbits, so i am spend 1/4 of my savings on getting him a purebred pair of havavnas. My mother used to always say she want us to have a better childhood then her because she was abused. He dad was a vietnam veteran and i believe he had just came back from the war when thay got married and had my mom. They had 5 kids and the oldest is my mom and the younges is a year older than me. It was the worst for my mom. She was phisically and emotionally abused. She always says we have it a million times better than her, but i dont believe it. The difference is only a few bruises on the outside. On the inside i know how she felt. I cant believe that im really worth anything to anyone in this world. My frieds always eventually back-stab me, or we move. The only ones i can realy on are my babies, my animals. The worst part about my life is that i dont have to do anything. My mom cleans, washes and does all that, but then she uses it against me. When i was little everytime we went somewhere i got a new toy. I have way to much stuff, but it all reminds me of being hapy, so i cant bare to get rid of it. Also i was never taugt to clean my room. Up until a few years ago mom did it, now i cant ever get it to her standards. The saddest thing is. I can do anything with my emotions. I have mastered the art of controling them exept sometimes when i cry. If i am really depresses i can put on a happy face and i can make my smile reach my eyes and add the bounce to my step. I fooled my cheer coach into believing i was fine after fell wrong on baskets and both hit me in the face with their full wieght before i caught them like i was supposed to. Anyway dont say counseling because we cant afford that and my parents can track every call i make. The only place i can even remotley have pravacy is on my 9yr old laptop.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From J2

by J
(Location Undisclosed)

My untold story: 
It all started with my parents divorce when I was 8. My mom left with the 4 younger kids (me included) but left the 3 oldest with my dad. This broke my family up and set a barrier between all of us and my brother took it especially hard. After my dad got custody of all 7 kids, shortly after, my older brother began physically and emotionally abusing my sisters and I and since I was the youngest he tended to attack me the most. My dad was emotionally unavaible and would stay up in his office doing work if he was even home. We would cry out to him but he ignored us. If we told him what was going on he would tell us it was a two-way situation or it was just a phase. This seemed to give my brother more approval for what he was doing and it increasingly got worse over the next couple years. I learned to avoid him and would lock myself up in my room if i knew he was in the house, or if i needed to use the bathroom I would wait until he was in the kitchen so he wouldn't see me. If he saw me he would intimidate me and then charge at me and beat me up until he heard some one coming. The only person who could control him was my oldest brother, but he wasn't home often.

During Junior High this pattern peaked. He would lock me out of the house almost everyday, so I ended up going over to my neighbors house who liked to boss me around then kick me out of her house when she decided I was boring. He would hide my personal belongings and school supplies for months at a time and interfere with my personal space. I spent so much time in my room, my unsupportive father decide to punish me for that by removing the door to my room. I had no privacy and my brother would stand outside my room and be as loud as possible, especially if he saw that I had fallen asleep.

At one point I was scheduled the same PE class as him since he was only a grade above me. We had to line up alphabetically for role call. Everyday during that time he would whisper in my ear and call me every degrading name he could think of. I don't know how, but despite all this I was still a very optimistic and hopeful girl. That same year one of my friends was so fed up with my coming to school with bruises and black eyes that she made me see the school counselor. However, she only made me go to a support group during classes once a week which didn't help and made me feel awkward and weird.

The day the physical abuse stopped is a day i'll never forget. I had accidently walked into the same room he was at and he charged at me. I collapsed on the floor (I had learned long before the being instantly submissive seemed to help). He began kicking and punching me for what seemed like forever. I cried out to anyone and soon my oldest brother came running in the room and pulled my other brother off me. They ended getting in a fight, when my oldest brother was able to restrain him. I ran into the next room where my sister and her boyfriend were. When my oldest brother though my other brother had cooled down he let him go, but he only ran at me again. This time my sisters boyfriend stopped him from getting me and at the end of the fight there were bloody noses and black eyes. My oldest brother was eventually able to get him restrained again and forced him into his car then drove him away. I will never know where they went or what was said, all I know is he never attacked me like that again.

By High School the abuse slowed for me, possibly because i was involved in a lot more extracurricular activities and because we had a very strict new step-mom. However, he still used other methods. Most days I didn't get to bring a lunch to school because he would steal it from me right after I made it. It got to the point I would make two lunches in hopes he would steal only one, if any, but he would take both of them. Most days I would only have a couple caprisuns and cheese sticks because of this.

My Junior year of High School My family moved to a different state. I became aquaintences with my neighbor, but his cousin would come over and force his hands up my shirt when no one was looking. One time everyone went to see a movie and the mom said I could watch TV at their house, but I didn't realized the cousin hadn't gone. He got on top of me and tried to take off my clothes but I forced him off and left. After that I never went into my neighbors house again.

Later that year I began dating a controlling and lying boy. He would sleep with other girls and then give me jewlery as a make up gifts. He would make me feel like the reason why he was so needy is because I wouldn't sleep with him. He became so controlling he didn't allow me to wear my hair a certain way or dye my hair. After a few months of this he dropped out of school and just left the state. Once he left I didn't get one phone call from him again. He made me feel so useless. I felt like all guys wanted from me was sex because they knew I didn't give it out.

That summer I went back to my moms. I got in touch with a close friend of mine and made plans to spend a week with him. I lied about where I was staying because I knew I shouldn't stay with a guy. However, I trusted my friend and opened up to him about all the stuff that really hurt me. He knew I was in a vulnerable state and used it as a way to get me drunk even though I told him I didn't drink. That night he raped me. I was in such denial about it I didn't know what to do. Although I never spoke to him about it again, the next day he was acting like it had be consentual even though I know I said "No" and "stop" numerous times. I was so ashamed and felt so trapped I stayed with him for two more days! He never did it again because I purposely annoying him enough to leave the room we had agreed I would sleep in by loudly playing some music he told me he hated while he was trying to sleep. It was a risk, but it worked.

After the rape I went through a low time in my life. I began drinking, smoking, having sex. all of my values and beliefs went out the door. Today I am 22 years old and happily marriend to the most wonderful, caring, and understanding man. I occasionally still suffer from nightmares and flashbacks, and suffer from panic disorder & anxiety, and some depression. I have a very short temper and verbally hurt my husband when I am frustrated about little things. I feel so bad, but its like I can't stop myself as its happening. I hate how I hurt the one thing that means the most to me and really hate myself for it. I have a low self-esteem and know I have a long way to go before I'm healed. I hypersensitive when people raise their voice toward me, and although its gotten a lot better I still get fearful and sometimes coward when some one moves their arms quickly toward me, even if its just to tickle me or grab me quickly into a playful hug. Although I haven't done this in years, I used to collapse into the fetal position on the floor at boyfriend's houses when I felt threatened. Its really sad, but it had become a instinct. Thankfully it never happened in public. I'm taking it one day at a time and slowly healing.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Sam2

by Sam
(Location Undisclosed)

My dad has ALWAYS been nice to me. he has always been there for me and supported me. i felt like a normal person just living my life, until i got to middle school. one night i was doing my homework and i needed help so i asked my mom for help me and my mom dont get along very well, we fight a lot so we started yelling at eachother. my dad called me downstairs to "have a talk" with me. he said that if i ever raised my voice to my mother again, he would "beat the sh*t out of me" but i knew he wouldnt because i loved him and he would never do that. one night i came home & me and my mom were fighting aaain. my dad called me into the kitchen and slaped me in the face. he called me worthless, and other names i cant repeat. im now terrified of my father. i don't know what to do. i never thought this would happen




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Ludmila M

by Ludmila M
(USA)

My adoptive father sexually abused me: 
I was adopted few days before i turned 12. My adoptive father started to come to my room (which was on the third floor, my brother was on the third floor too but away from my room, so he could not here anything. No one else was there) he would touch me between my legs, touch my butt and my breasts as he made me touch him. I am russian and did not even know english but (swim, hungry, and bathroom) so i could not say anything at all. Even when i did start to speak english, i did not want to say anything because i did not want to go to group home and be all by myself again (by the way if your going threw same as me, do not bite your tongue and keep hush. It's only going to eat you up and ruin most of your life. So speak up..PLEASE) He kept doing this for about 2 or 3 years tell i began speaking english and began to be out and sleeping over at friends. I am 20 now, I have a son who is 8 months old and i am married. But, I still struggle and i still have a lot of problems because of what my so called "adoptive father" did to me. Honestly, for a while i thought maybe it was my fault and this happened to me because i asked for it some how (but come on..i was 12, wore baggy clothing, did not speak english..how could i have asked for it....oh and by the way do not forget that he was a lawyer) Anyways, I am about to do something about it (if it is not too late) I am going to take him to court and even if i loose, at list i will know and feel better that i did do something about it. (GIRLS, IF YOUR GOING THREW THIS DO NOT KEEP HUSH, GO OUT THERE AND DO SOMETHING-NO NOT ILLEGAL-CALL THE COPS OR CPS AND TAKE THEIR PERVERTED SICK A**ES TO COURT)




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From NB

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

the one thing I heard alot when I was in counseling was "its not your fault". and they say it to everyone no matter what. the thing is that I no that alot of what hapened actually was my fault. i dont let alot of things bother me anymore but this does. but I have speech problems and i really hate talking to people so i actually never talked much at all in counseling or group. so I never could really explain it rite. thats why this site really means alot to me darlene. thanks for letting me explain.

my dad is abusive my brother was protective and I am a coward. just for a example there was one time dad asked me where my oldest brother was and i couldnt answer him cuz of my stutter so he got pissed and took his belt off and started chasing me around are trailer. i panicked and ran in his room and locked the door. his room is the only one that has a real door. he was holering from the other side and banging on the door. if he kept up he could of broke it. I heard my brother tell him to stop and leave me alone. then dad turned all his anger on him instead. I heard my big brother getting belted again and again and i still didnt open the door. he threw him against the door and screamed at me to open it or hed "beat him to shit". my brother kept saying not to listen to him and he was ok. i was 6 and he was 15 but i still new better. I new he wasnt ok and STILL I didnt open the door. I just sat there an cried while he got belted and hit and kicked. dad finally did get the door open but by then hed already beat my brother so bad he had to go to the hospital. theres no way to twist what happened and say that its not my fault. when people say stuff like your a good kid and whatever its only cuz they dont no the real story. i deserve to feel guilty and it bothers me when people say its ok cuz its not. he was my brother and i still put him threw that. i coudnt even hug him cuz he had bruises and cuts all on his chest and stomach and back and that was my fault. there are a hundred other stories like this where i pussed out and did nothing while my brother took the heat for me and theres no going back. i get that my dad is the one who actually hurt him but he did it because of me. i just want people to know that side of things. thanks for letting me get that off my chest.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Kathrine N

by Kathrine N
(USA)

I have been keeping everything to myself for a long time now. It is too much of a burden on a 13 year old's shoulders, so I really get a load off my back just sharing. I am writing this for people who have gone through similar situations to please stay strong and know that you are not alone. It started when I was 5, my dad was a good man. He would work way too much just to get our family through, I would only get to see him 2 hours, 3 if I got lucky everyday, meaning I was stuck with my mom and 2 other brothers.

I was never a bad kid, keep my grades up, good behavior, everything. If I didn't do something as small as clean my bed after waking up, I'd get beat horribly by my mom. Anything in her reach was good enough for her. She didn't do it anymore after she had my youngest brother. I was so thankful for that. But one bad thing came after another; One day my mom told my dad that she didn't want to live there anymore, she wanted to leave. So they would stay up having a fight in the next room while I was trying to sleep.

When I was about 8 my mom packed her bags and left to an apartment not too far away soon after. My dad was heartbroken. He started getting angry at every little thing, and screamed at us, called us names (my oldest brother and I) and hit us occasionally. Soon after, my dad got a call from my mom saying that my uncle had tried something on her when she was coming back from shopping so she came back to live with us for a bit.

My dad's mood, as well as everyone else's mood lightened up when she returned even though she wasn't going to stay. Another two years passed, I was ten and we had just moved into a new house, the one I live at now. My mom moved in with us too, since she was still looking for a job and somewhere to live. As much as I loved having my mom back around (She was still my mom, beating or not), she secluded herself to online chatting and I don't know what else.

It was like she had left again, even though she was just in the room across from mine. My family had drifted apart during this time, but me and my oldest brother were always close, no matter what. I loved him no matter what, stood up for him, and trusted him with my life. I don't know what came over him, he was 15 at the time when he did it.

It was a day like any other and when he just walked into my room, closing the door behind him. When I asked what he wanted, he started asking me what a girl looks like down there. I was uncomfortable with the subject so I replied with simple answers. He then asked me to lay down on my bed and take my clothes off, saying that we were siblings and that it was okay. He took my clothes off and he started to touch me. This was the first time when it started.

Ever since then, whenever he had the chance (parents were out, etc.), he would pull me into his room and start urging me to take my clothes off, saying it was okay, we were siblings and that it was our little secret, not to tell anyone. He would take his clothes off too and ask me to touch his private while he touched mine. Soon after, my parents would unknowingly save me by returning from where ever they were.

This continued on for about a year, going only as far as an oral... One day while my mom was looking for me and my brother, which was also when he decided to pull me into his closet and start the touching all over again. He decided to go further this time and try actual sex. Only then did my mom knock on the closet door, which was unlocked (thankfully).

She screamed at us and took me to my room, closing the door behind us. She started to hit me saying I was a 'whore', and asking what the hell I was thinking. I couldn't tell her, because even I didn't know... That next month was hell for me. She ignored me for the rest of that time, no "I love you," not even a good bye for when I went to school.

She started talking to me again after that month passed, but I could tell she would never look at me the same way she did before. And so then I ignored the rest of that and put it in the past. I would do anything to forget it, and so would she. She started cutting, and secluding herself even more, and she started to ignore her kids too. Hearing an, "I love you," was rare, as was a hug, and my brothers and I didn't take it for granted ever since.

Two weeks before school ended when I was in 7th grade, my mom found a place to live in Houston with her fiancé and so she left us one day and we started living on our own. My dad still worked over time, the schedule from when I was 5 is present now, leaving me at home with my brothers to take care of. I had the responsibility of 2 kids and my now 18 year old brother to take care of. I made breakfast, lunch, dinner, did the dishes, everything you can name, for the two months my little brothers stayed with us until my mom decided she wanted to keep them with her.

And so, I started living with my eldest brother and my dad. My brother and I have drifted apart, he broke his trust with me after that incident, and he is never home any more, too caught up with his life. Which left me to take care of my dad. When my little brothers left, my dad's old attitude came back. He started hitting me whenever I made him angry from trivial matters. He called me names, a 'mistake', wished I was never born, but I found comfort in people whom I considered my real family. My two close friends and my teacher of whom I trust so much. My teacher would hug me sometimes and that would make me want to cry (I did once) because I am not used to anyone loving me.

They have gained my love over all my biologically related family. My friends are the sisters I've never had, and my teacher is the mom I wish I'd had.

Soon though, I just got tired of it all. I bottled up everything, sneaked out of the house, and started to let my emotions out with the only way I could - cutting. Every time I cut, it felt like all the negative emotions would come out as the blood did. I cut everywhere, arms, legs, stomach, and now my wrists. I had tried to end it all by OD-ing and one of the close friends of the two found out and told my teacher and other friend. This upset her greatly. She told me not to pick a fight with her at school because she knew I'd be mad.

She avoided me at school, and just plain ignored me. But if she knew me at all, I am not one for hate. I still love her like the sister I never had, she is the one who understands me the most and I am sorry that she feels she should hate me or something.

Right now though, I am trying to patch things up for what I've done to upset her, to help my problem with cutting, and to help my dad stop his problems. My teacher is currently helping me through this, but I have decided not to tell anyone anything about what is going on in my life anymore. I am tired of being abandoned by all the people who are dear to me and I am tired of hurting them.

That is why sharing my story on this website takes a load off my shoulders. I am glad to let people know that you are not alone out there. Please get help if there is something like this going on in your life, you are important enough and you deserve to have a good life!

Thank you for letting me share my story, I hope this helps someone in anyway possible.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Amber2

by Amber
(Kalamazoo, Missouri, USA)

I was adopted as a 6 yr. old kid you would think that the reason you were adopted was (in some cases) because you were in a bad situation I have 9 adopted brothers and sisters two of which were my half siblings. My parents for some reason couldn't handle special needs children, but decided to adopt us anyways. I have a brother who is slightly retarded who would have been a little more self-sufficient if it weren't for the abuse he suffered from my parents. It seemed that his punishments were more severe than ours. My mom would verbally abuse us really bad telling me on occasion that I was low I.Q.'ed when actually I am very smart and so are my half siblings. Which in turn has led my sister down a destructive path of always trying too hard and my mom still not being pleased. She then started mentally abusing people to bring herself up because my mom never did. I feel bad because I am now a grown up and away from my parents yet I know my brothers and sisters are still home and putting up with it still. I came home one time to find my sister had just gotten out of the shower so I followed her to her room as we were talking she dropped her towel to put on some clothes and I noticed there were bruises all over her bottom, real bad ones. My other sister feels like she always has to sneak to do things, whether its talking on the phone or going outside. My mom calls her a whore all the time,the clothes my sister wears are grannyish compared to the styles for young women out there. That was also another thing that my mom did was only to buy us clothes from garage sales even though they were upper middle class. Hardly ever had new clothes and because I was heavy growing up the only clothes she could find in my size were old women clothes and that's what I dressed in. They would tell everybody at church what bad kids we were. They got the people from church to side with them by telling them we all had mental problems anything to make them believe them. They did do some nice stuff for us growing up but it wasn't much and I know others have it worse, but I still think that maybe ours could have been better if my parents were to drop the whole judgemental and I'm better than everybody attitudes. My younger brothers and sisters could grow up to be successful without having to get over it first to become successful I know there is more to all this than what I'm telling and my case was more neglect and being verbally assaulted it was still abuse and I can only pray that my family will be okay.



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Child Abuse Story From Nameless

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Another messed up girl: 
Well, here goes nothing. I am currently 18 years old. My whole life, I wanted one person to care and love me, and I don't know if I have that to this day. Each day was a nightmare going to school. I would get teased every second of the day, starting my first day in school, and it never ended. I was very overweight due to how I'd cope with my pain and I had very thick curly hair and glasses. Classic target. Anyway, My next door neighboor, also known as my grandfather, made a huge scar on my life. I remember the first day he abused me. I was taking a bath and he walked in. I was very young then, 4 or 5 and he helped bathe me. I didn't think anything of it. Infact, I enjoyed it. I was a little kid getting attention. It's what little kids like...attention. After awhile I really realized what he was doing. He would touch me and attempt other things. Things I don't feel strong enough saying. It wasn't violent and thank god I'm still technically a virgin. Many times I'd have to walk next door and stay the night because my parents would be gone. They babysat me a lot. I remember he would walk into the room I was sleeping in at night and mess with me, I would pretend I was sleeping lots of times. It was awful. And I felt even more guilty for letting it continue on for 6-7 years. I felt guilty for not being able to say no. One day he was about to take it too far. It was the july fourth in the summer of going to 5th grade. The ironic thing was I ran and he didn't run after me. I ran home crying, and I called my mom into my room and told her everything. For years after my family blamed themselves for what happened. My father was an alcoholic and often blamed me for him being that way. He never hugged or said I love you or anything. My sister kicked me out of her room a lot when I tried to hang out with her, and my mother had her own set of problems. I felt unwanted my whole life. I lived my life with many eating disorders, from binging, to binge and purge and to starving myself. I am still very overweight to this day and I have many scars on my body from cutting. I still think of suicide and relapsing like I have many times.

That one event caused many more problems to my family and I. it changed me. I grew up feeling like I was losing my mind. I grew up depressed, angry, hurt, confused and not knowing who I am. I grew up feeling like an emotional wreck and like nobody cares. I grew up feeling like everything is my fault.

I still have trouble now that I'm 18. I'm not over it. I still get nightmares and I still get overly emotional. It has scarred me for life. Is there any hope for me now?




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: During the week of February 15 - 21, 2010, I will not be able to comment on story submissions, as I will be attending a conference in Atlanta with only limited online access time.
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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed34

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Why it continues is due to fear at least in my case: 
I was not the one beaten by my father it was my little brother. I think if I had been a boy my father would have beaten me as well. Even though the abuse didn't happen to me it was horrible being around it and being unable to stop it. My father would beat my brother with his fist, boot, belt, etc. it was so bad that a doctor who examined my brother when he was older told him every one of his ribs showed signs of having been broken. My Mother told us that my Dad would get in trouble if we said anything and I was terrified of what my Dad would do if we would have said anything. He didn't hit my mom but emotionally abused her our whole lives. He was a control freak, wouldn't let her work, wouldn't let her do anything she enjoyed. I personally don't think she wanted to be a stay at home mom I think that was the easiest way for him to keep his thumb on her. She was to bring him his dinner, get him anything he wanted, he used to make us stand by the tv and turn the channels, he used to make us take off his boots when he got home from work. We had to come to the door and greet him (including my mom) when he got home from work. You never knew who was coming home either i used to get sick to my stomach when i knew he was pulling into the driveway because the rest of the night would depend on his mood if it was a bad one anything could set him off. It wasn't just beatings either he would yell and rant at us I was terrified of him. I tried to fly under the radar by being as good as possible, study as hard as possible, i think i feel guilty because he didn't abuse me as much as he did my brother and my mother i'm not sure why. I feel guilty that i didn't save my brother and when he was older he became suicidal i called my mom and dad and told them they better get over to his house because they were the ones who caused his pain. Apparently my dad did apologize to my brother and admitted that what he had done all of those years was wrong it got a little better after that but my brother is still a mess, he pretends to be okay but i don't think that he is mentally stable at all.

Later in life i had still been in contact with my family and pretended like none of the bad stuff had happened. Then there was a huge family fight over my husband and they tried to get me to leave him and go with them I'm assuming so that they could control my life again and probably the lives of my children. I had that final phone call with my mother where 30 years of throw up came out of my mouth about why she has the guts to mess with my life now but didn't have the guts to save us from my father when i was little etc. etc. i have not spoken to her again (2 years later), i still have the last words my father said to me saved on my answering machine in case i ever get the urge to try and make contact with them "i hope you choke on your daughters birthday cake" my therapist wouldn't even listen to the whole 3 minute abusive message that was left on the recorder I asked him to though I needed validation that it was okay for me to cut ties with my family and take my childrens grandma and grandpa and uncle away. It took about a year to recover from the loss (i was always close to my mom and used to speak to her almost everyday) but i think my dad has brainwashed her due to his controlling. no one is there anymore to keep an eye on him who knows what he does to her now that we are all gone....

Well i am still trying to heal from what happened i think it is getting better now that i don't have to deal with them at all anymore. my mom is a really great person it is unfortunate that she was to afraid of my dad to divorce him then she could have had the happy life she deserves i feel guilty that she is with him now and i'm not there to keep an eye on him. i feel guilty that i was not able to get her to leave him. I feel guilty for not loving my father anymore because he is so mean because everyone deserves to be loved and i feel like i don't have the right to reject my own parents from my life because they were so excited about having grandbabies and i took them away from them...at least that is what my mom said the last time it spoke to her. i know my mom must be so lonely and i feel terrible about it but i am done having them control my life and i refuse to let them abuse my children in any way.

I'm sure no one actually read this rambling but i do feel better getting it out because there isn't really a place where you can just spill your guts and there is no one there judging you and i think i feel better so thank you to the owner of this website




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed35

by A girl
(Location Undisclosed)

My best friend, we are both 13 year old girls and we have both been abused at some point or another. I have been physically and verbally abused by my mother for a few years up until last year, when my aunts all took control of the situation. My best friend, her father is away on business a lot and her mother physically abuses her. Often she comes to school with razor scratches on her legs, chest, and face. Her family once went on vacation and left her alone with her 2 year old brother for a few days. Because of this she has depression and I want to help her without calling the police, because I understand how hard it is to call the police on your own mother, no matter how bad she is to you.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed36

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

My Mother Reported Me To Social Services, When She Was Abusing Me! 
My own mother decided to report me to social services when an accident happened, my brothers lip was cut with a box that i took off his head, and she reported me for it. Meanwhile she had been abusing me not to say anything. I had been heavily abused with violence many times, but it had got even worse.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed37

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I have just realized how devasting it truly was and it is hard for me to write about it. From what I know I think the effects are pretty typical. Low self esteem, no self confidence, sudden out burst of anger and rage. They were bigger and stronger and I had no place else to go. I chose not to have any children, because I was too afraid that I would hurt them, not sexually, but perhaps emtionally and I wanted and needed to stop the violence. I hate them both. One died when I was in my early twenties and the other is now old and frail living in a nursing home, with no memory of the pain he caused.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed38

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

:-( 
I was sexually abused by my cousin for about 18 years...starting at age 2. Well, at least I have nightmares and flashbacks about it...but not really memories. Sometimes I wonder if my flashbacks are real or if I'm just a freak having perverted thoughts.

My only memories are being sexually harassed by my cousin. I remember he would lift up my dress in front of the public and made comments about my breasts. I also remember he physically abused me but trying to make it seems like he was just "playing" with me and I was just "dramatic".... Everything was always just "playing" according to him.

I don't know why I don't remember the sexual abuse. But in my dreams, I can see when it first happened...I was 2 years old and I was waiting for my mom to bring me my new baby sister home. He wanted to teach me how to be a good sister...I was really scared.

In my dreams, I also remember a painting on the wall. It was a painting of the mountain in the late Winter evening with a lake on the bottom. I remember as he was "playing" with me, I wish I could be in that painting and just sitting by the lake. Sometimes, I entered that painting...I remembered it was very cold. Once, I looked through some old photographs and to my amazement, there was a picture with that painting hanging on the wall right where I dreamt it to be.

There was another dream...He accidentally bite off my left nipple and I had to go to the emergency room. I cried when I woke up because I've always wonder why I have a scar on my left breast...and only half a nipple.

There were other dreams...so many nightmares...but mostly always when I was 5 or younger.

I don't have dreams of whether or not it happen again after 5 but I remember while I was babysitting for his children, he would come home in the middle of the day and I would get really scared. I always locked myself in the bathroom and not knowing why I was so afraid.

One day, he came home and I didn't run up to the bathroom quick enough. He told his sons to go to their rooms...and like an idiot I remember just standing there...not moving. He told me to take off my bra. That's all I remember. I was 16.

I didn't remember any of these until I was 22. I was in college and was volunteering at one of the Women's Shelter. One of our courses was about child sexual abused...all of the sudden, the room I was sitting in disappeared and I was in my old house. All my classmates disappeared. I couldn't talk. I couldn't move. Then I saw on the TV screen...pictures of me flashed...me sitting by the corner alone, me crying, me begging, me screaming....

It was horrible. I broke down.

After that, I was talking to counselors everyday for the next 3 months until the semester ended. I felt better...kind of but I still don't know if I was just having perverted thoughts. The counselors said that even though I don't remember, but because I cry when I talk about it, it means that it's real and I'm not a freak...but child abuse is a sad story, everyone would cry if they heard it...maybe I was just crying because I felt sorry for the girl that I made up in my head.

I don't know...but now, I just accept the fact that it might be real and that it happened to me. Sometimes I wish I was just a freak and having perverted thoughts because I feel it really ruined my life.

I'm 24 years old now and I never even have a boyfriend. I tried dating but I always get so scared...and then I would find reasons to isolate myself...I know the guys think I'm weird but I guess it's better than telling them what happened to me.

I told one guy I was dating what happened to me because I really want to grow up and just have a relationship. He didn't want anything to do with me. It upsets me a lot...it still does. I knew that he must be immature but I don't want to feel that way again when I have to tell another guy what happened.

Not only does it ruin my ability to have a relationship with someone, sometimes I couldn't even do my everyday activity because of it.

I have a business and I'm very passionate about it. I want to work on it all day and night...but sometimes, like today, I just can't. All I can think about is this.

And it's not like I have someone to share it with. My family doesn't know I remember (I really think they know, but they just wish it wasn't true). I can't really tell my friends about it because what are they going to do? Feel sorry for me? I don't really need that. I don't want to ruin their day just because I feel sorry for myself.

Sometimes, I just wish I would just grow up...




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed39

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

When I was about 10, up untill I was 12 or 13, I can't relly remember. It started innocently, he just...liked kissing me and, of course, I was convinced that he loved me, so i let him do it. Anyway...his little sister liked to play hide and seek, and so did i, so we'd play everytime i came over to his house. He was about 14 when it happened. He'd use the game as a way of touching me whenevver we were alone. He'd follow me to my hiding place and put his hand down my top or my pants, whichever he preferred. He always liked for me to sleep in his room with him, but i always asked not too. He had complete control over his little sister, and ordered her downstairs too collect many different things, making sure she was occupied. He then pulled my hand and put it down his trousers. i was so lost at what to do, because i'd never done that before, and i was scared...He started to get mad when i didn't 'do it' right, and then put his hand in my underwear. He touched and felt me for hours, and i just laid there, doing nothing. i couldnt do anything. He kept kissing me, telling me how much he loved me, i can still taste him. This kind of stuff continued for the next couple of years, but one time he took it further. He closed his bedroom door and i got out of the bed and tried to get out, because i knew nothing good would come of him locking me in his room when he was aroused. He told me to have sex with him, and i said no. (this part happened near the end of the abuse...) He pushed me up against the door and told me if i didnt, he'd hit me. He tried to rip my clothes off, but i fought as hard as i could. I bit him, and ran out of the door, into the bathroom because i panicked. He followed me of course, and tried to apologise, saying he loved me. I cried and went back with him. He fondled me again, but never tried to rape me again. Afterwards, we went downstairs and i sat across the room from him, and didnt speak to him that night. I never went to his house after that, i never let him near me again. i knew that what was happening wasnt normal like he'd told me, that it was wrong.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed40

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I can remember back, when we were a happy family. But then one day my parents started fighting. It started with yelling then got to the point where my daddy was trying to kill my mother. with me just in the other room. when he was done of course mom took us else where. about 4 months later, she got a boyfriend. he moved in with us and treated me like a daughter. i loved him. then one night i remember falling asleep with him on the couch, i was wearing a nighty gown and he stuck his hand up it and started touching me and "fingering" me. he then moved his hand and took the dress completely off. he started rubbing on me. i then got up and went to the bathroom. when i came out i went to lay by my mother and he told me she was sleeping, so i couldnt. so i went to a chair and layed down. he then told me that i would get uncomfortable. i told him i did not care. when we woke up in the moring i told my mom and she didnt believe me. I also had a bad problem with sucking my thumb, he would sometimes replace my thumb with his penis, when he was done with that he would smother me. my mother walked in on this once and took me to the police station where they found the bruises. i then got taken away from my mother and put into a foster home. i was beaten there. often getting left at home for days at a time. i also got in trouble many times, often blamed for what my foster siblings would do.one time a little girl there bit one of the babies and blamed it on me. i was then sent to a mental hospital. they thought i was crazy. i came back. anpther time in the home my foster mom trough me in the garage. i found the button to open it and ran away. i also got beaten when i got home for that.

i finally went home and then my mom got remarried. this guy so far, is great. and i thank God every day because without him i would be nothing, i also thank every person on here for the encouragement to share your stories. i read them and didnt feel so alone




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed41

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Uncle, Grandfather and doctor abused me: 
Reading some of these stories makes me feel that I was luckier than most but I know what happened to me as a child has affected me and I sometimes think I don't know to what extent. I have never spoken to anyone professionally about it and I am terrified to even write this out.

The first time I remember being molested was when I was about four years old. My uncle was tickling me and then held me down on the kitchen floor and began fondling my breasts. He would do other things like pretend to burn us with cigarettes or hit us with rolled up newspapers. He also held my beloved dogs nose closed so she couldn't breathe and laughed sadisticly when she began flipping around trying to escape. Everytime he came over somehow he would find me alone and try to fondle me. I would let him get so far because he was an adult and I was afraid to say no to him but I would eventually push him away. Once I saw him holding my older sister down on the bed while he tried to stick his tongue in her mouth. He let her go when he saw me in the doorway. I told my best friend but she didn't believe me until one day we were getting ready to go swimming and he barged into my room. He didn't know she was there and what a look of shock he had when he found her there as well. She told me she believed me after that which was of some help but we never discussed it much. I do not suspect that my parents knew but what I can't get over is how he could do this under their noses. i have a daughter now and if someone was visiting me and left for extended periods of time I would know. i feel some anger towards my parents for this as i somehow feel betrayed that they did not keep me safe.

When I was about ten or eleven I began having problems with my grandfather. Everyone including me loved him and respected him which makes it that much harder to hate him. He did it to me several times over a period of a year then left me alone. At first I didn't know what he was doing but he tried chasing me and fondling me a few times and i could see his erection. He also tried to get into the bathroom when I was taking a bath and would say "Don't you want me to come in and wash your back". Once when he was doing it he said something sick like "Your Grandma doesn't like it anymore". I have never told anyone this because it would just hurt people. When he was dying he told me he was sorry and admitted that he did bad things to me. i told him I forgave him but in actual truth I don't.

The next time I was abused was by my family doctor. He was a new doctor to me and I was eighteen years old. Everytime I went to see him he would make me take all my clothes off even my underwear and put a gown on. At this time I was having a lot of bronchitis so he would have to listen to my chest. He would take the gown off and make me sit there with nothing covering me while he listened to my chest and of course he would always examine my breasts. I would just sit there like a dummy and let him do it as I didn't know that this wasn't proper procedure. About a year later he had to give me an internal exam and that is when I realized that he was molesting me. He moved his fingers back and forth in me and looked at me with a sick smile and asked how it felt. I had never had an internal exam before and i didn't know that this was weird behaviour however I remember leaving there and breaking down into tears when I got out of the office. I changed doctors and never reported him but I now know that i should have. I am in my forties now and these things still bother me. i am terrified for something like this to happen to my daughter and i want to protect her from this kind of ugliness. Sometimes I go long periods of time without thinking about it but sometimes i wonder what it was about me that made me a victim. i was quiet, polite and shy and never knew that I had the right to speak out. i found it helpful to read these posts and maybe i will have to courage to get some counselling about this one day.




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Child Abuse Story From Dezaree

by Desiree
(Kansas, USA)


So from tha tyme i wuz not even 1 tell i wuz 5 i wuz abused mentaly phsicaly sexualy and emotionaly. My mom was always at work when it happend and i didnt live withmy dad. It was always my moms ex-husband. my mom eventaully found out and she took us out of tha house. well we ended up getting found and my moms ex husband told her that if she ever left again or told the cops he would kill her and me and my 2 brothers. My mom tried as much as she could to get us away but everywhere we went tha guy found us. My mom told tha cops and he got arrested my mom got areested to even tho she didnt dew ne thing. she is out of jail and i live with her now. the guy is no longer in our life and he got out of jail but he is always still in and out of jail all the time. i am glad that he is not in my life anymore and i am glad that i dont get abused. i am scared of any guy though and i cant trust any of them.




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Child Abuse Story From Sarah F1

by Sarah F
(Location Undisclosed)

Beatin: 
my mum beats me she strangel me an dshe throw chair at me and she says horrible stuff to me she punch me in the face and i had a black eye and she slaps me and punches me and sraches my fdace and pull my face and i would like to live in a fosterb home




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Child Abuse Story From Sophia

by Sophia
(Location Undisclosed)

I was about 7 or 8 years old when I was sexually abused by my aunt and her boyfriend. She was around 16 and he was 18 at the time & knew exactly what they were doing. We were in her bedroom that was in a very religious Catholic home owned by our grandparents. She had told me that we were going to color in a coloring book & then said we were going to have sex with an excited voice. At the time i thought it was a fun thing to do by the tone she used but little did i know what she was really up to. Our family including my parents, aunts & uncles were also all in the living room in the house talking & mingling amongst each other & had no idea what was going on. *Sam, my aunts boyfriend sat in a chair in the corner of the room smoking a cigarette. I was finishing up my coloring when she laid on the bed with nothing but a long sleep shirt on. She then told me to come lay beside her & to kiss her. She began to put her hands on my chest & my genital area & began to finger me. Her boyfriend then started to kiss me & pull out the crayons that i was coloring with & began to finger me with them & put them in my genital area & started to put other objects in & out as well. He then took his pants off & began to have his way with me. After awhile of him having his fun he stopped & left the house for the night. My aunt started kissing me again & then as soon as she was taking my clothes off, my mother walked in & began to yell at her & took me out of the room. My mom had told the family what had happened & nobody believed her & thought she was out to get attention. My dad on the other hand became furious being that it was his sister who had done the crime. Nothing happened after that except for my parents never talking to her again to this day. I still have flashbacks of what happened that day/night & become very angry. I am not trying to find a spiritual way of dealing with it. Not much luck with that yet.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Aleda

by Aleda
(Location Undisclosed)

I grew up in a family of seven. My father had a difficult time holding down a job and, as a result, we moved frequently. One time, I remember, moving into a new city where we did not even have a place to stay lined up. We stayed in a homeless shelter for a few days.

Our financial situation, however, was the least of our problems. My father battled alcoholism. He was abusive towards, my mother and us. I have many memories of his violence and unpredictable outbursts of anger. Memories of calling the police to ask for help. Unfortunately, at that time there were no domestic violence laws and so they would just ask him to leave. He would return as soon as the police left.

There are many examples of his physical abuse towards my mother and us. One incident involving me, however, was when I once tried to answer the door bell and he caught me half way to the door. I was about six years old. He picked me up by the arm and held me some distance from the concrete floor before just allowing me to drop onto it. I remember falling on my side so hard I could not even breathe for a few seconds.

The abuse caused my mother to develop health conditions that would cause her to leave us for lengthy periods of time, alone with our father while she tried to recuperate at her folks' home.

All of us children ended up leaving my parents' home between the ages of 14 and 16. I have been an adult since I was 15 years old and have struggled to make a good life for myself.

Today, by God's grace, I am married with one child and have a successful career. However, I am constantly struggling with health issues such as IBS and anxiety. I also don't always manage stress in the best way and my family has a hard time understanding how my past is affecting my present.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From TBear

by Garry M
(England)

First time I am disclosing my story publicly. I am having therapy and feel I can disclose my abuse that happened at two stages when I was a child at a specifically vulnerable time. Later on i suffered emotional abuse from my father and step-mother.

I was no more than 2 1/2 to 3 or 4 years old. I know this because of things that occurred around that time moving home etc. Around this time my step-mother would take me to the childminder i remember the first time i went there because i was wearing shorts and had to sit on this wooden chair that had something on it that caused a burning sensation on my legs. I think other children were there and can only thank god that my brother (who was a year younger wasnt with me - as far as i remember).

I dont know how often it happened but while I was there a boy forced me to perform oral sex on him. I NEVER forgot the taste of his penis even now that I am 40 i can remember it. Like i said i dont know how often it happened but it was at a very vulnerable time...months previously my father had taken us from my mother as a child I had just experience the most painful and scary abandonment experience possible and can only think that my abuser picked up on this. There was noone to tell. We moved when i was 4 so know it didnt go on beyond this.

Later sadly when i was about 7 I was sexually molested by my step-brother. It was during a hot summer and he (being around 12 years older) was supposed to be looking after me and my brother. I can remember when his semen was on my belly and jumping back asking him what that was...he just told me to wipe it off. I think that was the last time.

Later on as a teenager from about 15 to 19 i suffered emotional (usally verbal) abuse from my father and step-mother usually publicly. On one occasion they locked me out of the house whilst they visited my brother at boarding school. On another occasion my step-mother just to be spiteful told me I had never had a mothers love.

I have unfortunately suffered a spectrum of abuse I have/had trust issues and have suffered severe abandonment pain and a variety issues including depression, guilt shame and rage relating to the things that have happened to me. Suffice to say I have very little to do with my real mother (she never came back and I only found her when i was 35) and I will have nothing to do with my father or step-mother.

Yes i look at my life and wonder how i got through all this...a big part of the answer is down to me as cliche as it sounds I'm a survivor and the help i recieved from a great therapist.




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Child Abuse Story From Andrea For My Brother

by Andrea
(New York, USA)

I was 1 of 4 children. I was the second oldest. I was the only girl and daddy's little girl at that. My older brother who has passed now was my best friend only being a year apart in age. I was a very bright student with a great outlook on my life as an adult. BIG DREAMS!!

My brother has a best friend who was like a member of the family. It was a summer night and he stayed over and I went to my friends house. around 2am my friends parents came and got me out of bed. i took a phone call i wish never happened. It was my next youngest brother crying histaricly. I woke my friend up and we headed to my house. we were both around 14 at this time. I went home and talked with my brother. he told me that my older brothers friend has been touching him for a while now and tonight he tried to rape him. i am very protective of my family. i went into my brothers room where this guy was staying and he was gone. i woke my brother and told him. he jumped from bed but we were being very quite. my little bro didn't want to tell my parents. I called a couple of other friends that lived on this kids route home. My older brother and i got on our bikes and headed out, i grabbed a bat. to make this part not grafic or too long one our friends stopped him before he passed his house and we caught him. My older brother and i took assault charges from this whole ordeal. After the story got out 3 other boys this guy babysat came out saying the same thing. he was put in jail for three whole months. I still see him around and I still to this day jump at him any chance i get. My brother has a lot of emotional problems now and major anger issues. he has done counseling and many other things. He said nothing is helping. He says family is what helps him through it. we ar very close and he has decided to move in with me and my son. I think it will help him and hopefully for him to finally deal with it.

This story I hope helps some of you out there. My brother may have some problems but he has a great job, great girlfriend of many years and he is no longer afraid of the man that took his childhood away.

This website is amazing. I have read a lot of your stories and commented on a couple.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Ky

by Ky
(USA)

It all started when my mother and father split up. my mother had changed everything about her..she lost about 250 pounds and she never looked better. All the guys wanted her and she wanted them. I lived with mom and my father lived about 15 mins away from us. Every weekend there would be a new guy at our house. I hated it but if i didnt like the guy she didnt care i had to be nice to them or i would be grounded or something. this all started when i was 12 years young. Well the age of 13, 7th grade, One night my mother was talkin smack about my dad and his gf with some women and i went off on her. She took me into the kitchen and tried to choke me. after that she called my dad and told him to come get me and she threw all my stuff outside and made me wait out there till he came and got me. so about 4 months later i come back for a weekend to hang well she had a new bf once again and this one was alot different. My mother was in the shower becasue we were all gunna go eat or what not. and i was takin a nap.. i wake up and his hand is in my shirt... after that he would text me and stuff and buys me stuff you would think he would do all this with my mom but no. my mother always chosed da guys before me...




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Melissa3

by Melissa
(Location Undisclosed)

I am eighteen years old. I enjoy listening to music learning new things and volunteering for anything just about. Well...when ppl first meet me most of the time I think I give off the wrong impression. Some ppl see me as shy or quiet while others think of me as this snobby self centered person, but really that's not me! I am shy and quiet because I am an observant person, but I would never classify my self as a snob.

Over the years, I wished I could tell my story, but I just told myself no ppl wouldn't except me for who I was or what was done to me. It makes me sad to think about it, but i know my story could help someone tell theirs in the near future. I was molested by one of my family members at the age of 4. I know it sounds like WTF? HOW CAN SOMEBODY BE SO SICK? & yes my own family member. I tried to forget about it over the years, but recently it just keeps occurring in my mind. WHY? At about the age of 7-11 I wished that I got raped by anybody...somebody. I felt used and abused and didn't care who else used me. I felt worthless. I just wanted to die at times. I cried and cried and cried. Waiting for my prayers to be answered. Then my molester moved away and found a life of their own. Got married had a baby. I...me...I can't go forward or move forward until this story is told or laid to rest. I feel better about myself as the years roll by, but I cannot erase the pass.




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Child Abuse Story From John R

by John F Ratcliff
(Cedar Rapids, Iowa, USA)

I was born on November 20 1981, to a family that already had 2 boys and coming into this world is supposed to be wonderfull but the day i came home from the hospital my father started hitting me and my brothers, i mean with anything and everything you can think of that he could get his has on. When I turned 9 months old is when evrything went nuts i was getting beat,yelled at touched where no child should be touched, my hands where cut somany times by knives,and glass. No child should go through that, but i did and i went through the abuse until i was 6 years of age, i was abused every way possible, sexually, physically, mentally, verbally, and emotionally. My father also killed my puppy in my bed right next to me, evry little boy that comes into this world and sees their dad thinks hey he will protect me from everything. Well at the age of 6 me and my brothers were taken awy from our parents, and placed with one of our aunts and uncles, which was ok but i acted out didn't fit in anywhere. I HATED ALL MEN including myself for what my father had done to me, i wouldn't listen to my uncle, my male teachers.I just turned and after 2 years living with them they had enough my oldest brother got in to trouble with the law and was given a choice go to JAIL or join the MILITARY. So he went to the marines, thats when me and my other brother were taken to our other aunts house to live, which things didn't get any better I had to see counselors, therapists, and pych doctors, which most were men. I hated being in the same room but i could not be left alone in the room with them because of what happened. After living with them for like 4-5 years we were placed in foster care and that was no fun, yeah we did fun things but we were always picked on in school and by everyone at home me and my brother fell apart we were not close anymore. He shut down and let everyone walk all over him, I on the other had got really mean started yelling screaming and even getting into fights with the bullies at school. I started running away from school, home, the store, anywhere we would go i would run away from, i started doing drugs, drinking and by this time i had had 20 counselors and therapists. Nothing seemed to be working and i was getting worse, my attitude sucked. By the time i reached senior year in high school i was not taking crap from anyone specially males, and thats when evrything went even further, one day in my language arts class we and to right something about abuse and read it to the class when we were done with it. well everyone made fun of me all the wawy through high school until the day i had to read my story, i got up in the front of the class and told everyone that they may laugh at me now but by the time im done they will be in tears crying. So i read them my life story of all the abuse i went through and how it has affected my life, well I finished and I made more friends that day than i ever had in my life before. Now I am 28 years old and have 2 very addorable children, I look at them and I just can't figure out why or how anyone could hurt their kids in anyway. SO I LEAVE U IN THE SUSPENSE OF THE THOUGHT OF WHY IF U CAN ANSWER THAT QUESTION U WILL HELP OUT ALOT OF PEOPLE. JUST REMEMBER 1 THING IT'S NEVER YOUR FAULT.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Victoria2

by Victoria
(California, USA)

I am 14 years old. I might still be abused. I reported my mom for physical and emotional abuse. My uncle, this past summer (2009) had touched me while he was beside his sleeping wife. some people can be sick, like my mom. I have raised my 2 year old sister, and took care of my 7 year old sister. My mother would leave the house for weeks without leaving us food or money. She owes all of my siblings money. she owes me at least $600, my 18 year old sister at least $1,000. my 7 year old sister at least $50. And even my 2 year old sister's "bottle bank". My mom has grabbed my 2 yr old sister (whom i basically raised)by the scruff of her neck and thrown her onto a bed, screamed at her, then slammed the door and walked away. My other sister, aged 7, has problems with her bladder. She peed the bed one morning and my mom had pulled my sister from the bed and started smacking her anywhere her arms could reach, screaming "YOU STUPID UGLY FAT B**CH! YOU ARE ACTING LIKE A BABY, ALWAYS F***ING PISSING YOURSELF DAY AND NIGHT!", a few minutes later we had to go to school, put a smile on our faces and act completely normal. My mom had also left me alone at the house for days-weeks at a time. I live literally down the street from my molester. I was always paranoid that one night he would come to my house and attack me and/or my sisters and i could do nothing about it. One morning when i had told my mom that if she refused to act like a mother, I would bring unwanted attention to her. She smacked the side of my head (i get migraines, that night was fun...) and told me that i would go to jail for lying, and everybody hates me and they most likely would never believe me. I had been recording her from a cell phone of her screaming and hitting, i had it ready when i had the courage to protect my sisters. One day after school (half an hour after the bell rings as always), she came to my boyfriend and said that she couldn't believe how disrespectful he was and what we did last night is inexcusable and he was no longer allowed to contact me.the "inexcusable night" i had used MY house phone from her boyfriend's house to talk to my boyfriend about HOMEWORK, and yes i did ask for her boyfriend's permission to use the phone. She got in the car and told me we had to go. I told her no, that she was to get out of her car and talk to us like an adult. She refused and even threatened that if i didn't get in the car, i was going to be embarrassed in front of my entire high school. I told her that that was not necessary but if thats how she wanted to act, so be it (i knew they had video cameras around school and hurting me in front of a school wasn't so smart). She then grabbed my wrist and twisted it. i pulled out of her grasp and she grabbed my hair. i screamed for someone to help me. None of my classmates came forward. They all just stared as i was being dragged by my hair towards her car. i finally was free from her and i told her that she better get a good lawyer and to say goodbye to my sisters. In the office, i was interrogated by my school's deputy and the principal. They told me that i had forced her to force me into the car by disobeying her. That until i turned 18, i had to listen to her and i was in no danger of my life. That night i almost killed myself. "she was right" i kept thinking to myself "no one will ever believe me"

I fell asleep and the next morning i realized that my wrist was injured and my head was throbbing. I went to the nurse and she said my wrist was sprained and to call my dad for permission to take some aspirin. I then went to the counselor and told her i was being abused and i needed help. I filed at least 10 SCARs (Suspected Child Abuse Report)and i am now living with my father. I have been working with CPS for a few months now and i hope to get my sisters away from her.

I pray for anyone struggling with abuse right now. There is hope, and you can be free. I beg you to go talk to a counselor!!!



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Child Abuse Story From Alex R

by Alex R
(Washington, DC, USA)

I will be honest i'm scared to do this...i've never told anyone, or even put much thought into this at all. So why should i start here? i'm afraid to tell, and don't want to though ever since High School i have felt uncomfortable with myself, and what was happening to me. I'm 17 and from what i can tell i'm a normal kid,i'm captin of my soccer team, and i have a decent amount of friends, and i try hard to please all of them. One month ago was my junior dance at my school, and i went like any guy with my girlfriend, everything was going well i guess then she started kissing me which wasn't a problem, the problem began when she kept trying to move alot faster she was touching me, and i enjoyed it i'm not gay, but then i freaked. This sounds so dumb and it sounds like i'm gay but i'm not, i tried to cover it up with oh i don't want to right now. She was so confused, and all i could do was leave..i got to the bathroom and just broke down, it felt like i was younger all over again. I won't lie i don't know when it started though i know it happened, Uncle Scott was a good friend of my fathers they worked together, or my dad was working for him i don't know. Uncle Scott had begun a youth soccer team in our area, and my mom was friends with his wife whom encouraged my mother to enroll me for tryouts, and two weeks later i was apart of the team. i loved it, though Uncle Scott said i could use some extra practice. I just remember him sitting on his desk pushing my head into his lap, i swear to god i wanted it to stop though i wasn't strong enough, he unzipped his pants and put himself in my mouth. My whole stomache felt nasty,i wanted to throw up but he wouldn't let me. You'd wonder why didn't you bite him, it just never came to me. For months and years this would go on, when my parents went to Peru for six weeks who did i stay with? Uncle Scott, at night he would tie my hands to the bed frame and while i laid on my stomache i could feel my dinner coming up as he went into me, it hurt like hell and when he was done i was told to explain in detail what he did. On nights that he would lose it he would open my legs wide and my bottom and lick me, sometimes i would bleed and mess up my uniform the school would ask and i'd find myself lying for him. I jump now thinking about that now, but on special days he would pick me up from school where i got to pick out of our carpool who got to sit in the front with him..i feel bad saying i'm happy it wasn't me at every red light he'd put his hand in one of my friends pants. And all the while my parents pratically let him live around me, they were friends with my worst nightmare my grades fell, i had nightmares and i used to pee on myself. Which made me feel so pathetic, i was afraid of my own mothers embrace, and like i've said i'm afraid to sleep with my own girlfriend. I reached puberty right when i should've, one night he made me ejaculate untill i was light headed and then he played some porn he said that if i responded that i was getting to old. And like an idiot i did, i couldn't help it...i know its weird but i didnt want him to stop i hated it so much..though seeing how easy it was for him to stop hurting me made me feel used and worthless, in terms i felt that we had a connection, that he loved me in this unhealthy way. I was 13 when that happened, and i'm 17 now so for the last 4 years i've been trying to convince myself that what he's done to me and that i owe him nothing, but i see myself so dependent on his care to help me feel cared for. I know i need help, but i need to tell someone how i feel, and how this has bothered me, without feeling bumbarded. Before i can face my parents and family, and friends.




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Child Abuse Story From Jennifer4

by Jennifer
(Virginia, USA)

I am currently 13 years old. During my childhood, i was the only child and my dad has been cheating on my mom so thay divorced. My mom said she couldnt take care of me so i ha to live with my dad. And my new STEPMOTHER. She looked very nice and caring but really inside of her she is heartless and very abusive.

One time when i was in 3rd grade i failed my math test and i tried to hide it in my closet,but she found it while cleaning. That afternoon she got a plastc coat hanger and whipped me with it till i was bleeding. I had marks an bruises all over my body. I couldnt go to school the next day because of suspicion in the school.

I now have a little brother (9 yrs) and a little sister (4 yrs) they blame me on everything they do wrong. No one understands my pain ive never really felt love before i probably never will. She tells me that im ugly and fat and noone will ever want to see my face ever. I went into a deep depression noone cared they didnt. want anything to do with me. I even tried to commit suicide when the pain i was feelling was eating me alive. Instead she caught me and beat me. With a golfclub. She left me to starve for 3days cause she said that i was fat. Because my dad has gotten used to mystemom beating me he beats me too. My siblings laugh while i lay on the floor bleeding. on time she broke my leg by pushing me down the stairs. I went to the emergency room and i had to tell them i tripped on something.

I still have a broken heart with pain and suffering inside and out.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: During the week of February 15 - 21, 2010, I will not be able to comment on story submissions, as I will be attending a conference in Atlanta with only limited online access time.
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Child Abuse Story From Anela

by Anela
(Location Undisclosed)

Mine is not as bad as others and it still is happening i am 11 years old right now and alot is going on in my life but one of the major things is my parents are getting a divorce and my dad of course wants me to live with him i don't want to at all you see he scares me really bad like just yesterday night my little sister was on the computer and he asked her to get off and she was telling me her dicision on something so she made a idon't know face and he grapped her by the neck and threw her to the floor she ran off balling i started screaming at him and ran to comfort her he came in screaming DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM of course being soo scared i said no another time it was my sisters brothers babtism he was joining the l.d.s church i was in the bath and i kept splashing him so he drowned me until my lounges began to burn til finally my mom rushed in and pulled him off of me and i could breathe again i know it is not as bad as others but im soo scared when my parents split its going to get a lot worse and i don't know about this but when i was a lot younger i remeber taking a bath and he would close the door while he sat and rubbed me even in private parts i can't remember the rest i just need help something to do i love my daddy so much with all my heart im just scared thanks for reading




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Child Abuse Story From Carolyn1

by Carolyn
(Location Undisclosed)

Dad's disappointment: 
I lived with my mom all my life until i decided i wanted to see what my dad's was like. i was 13 when i moved in. this was the summer i was molested by my brothers best friend. at first everything was going great. then he divorced his 2nd wife. everything went down hill from there. if i did something "Wrong" i would get hit. my dad would take off his belt and hit my back and legs with it. he called me a slut and would say i never did anything right. he would always be high or drinking. i only saw him when he was passed out or getting up to use the rest room. i thought everything would blow over but it didn't. for two years i lived like this. if i missed a homework assignment because i was cleaning up after my dad and his new girlfriend he would take off his belt. i never told anyone about it because i blamed myself for moving in with him. i now live with my mom and i am a lot better. i don't have to make excuses for why my back hurts or why i can't dress in P.E. i stopped blaming myself. i used to cut but i don't anymore. i had a lot i was dealing with and my dad didn't help at all. i used my life to help my friends. i have been going to counseling once a week and my self esteem has been improving.




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Child Abuse Story From Selle

by Selle
(Location Undisclosed)

I'm a useless and worthless girl who is currently 15 years old now.
I have been living in hell for the pass 10 years of my life.
I am the most retard & mentally screwed up girl you'll ever seen/find.

When i was young,
my parents & sister treated me well.
I can still look back at those pictures when i actually smiled so broadly.

After my parents started arguing, my whole family started falling apart.

My father and mother would always start to drink and argue every night.
Every Night without fail.
& everytime when they argue,
they will start to take it out on me & my sister.

I remembered when i was around 6 years old,
my father took a belt and whack me.
It was one of those leather belt and the metal part hooked onto my body and he just pulled it out.

I started bleeding.
He didn't really care much,
i remembered when i was very young,
even a small cut or just a small bruise
would mean that i am going to die to him.

He would care for me,
& when i fell,
he was always there for me.
I could tell him everything.

Now its different,
he got so angry one night that he took the whole chair and whacked me.
Wow.
I felt the pain.

My mother was better then my father,
she would just scratch me until i bled.
She often break bottles and use the glasses to scratch me.

My sister tried to stop her,
but i wouldn't want that to happen on her so i will always push her away.

My hand still got the scar that was caused by her.
One night,
i was using the computer and my mother took the house phone to whack my head.
& when i went to school,
my friends would always ask me what happen.

I'm really grateful for my friends,
but i couldn't tell them everything.
Because i would never ever want them to get burden by me as they have problems of their own too.

When i was about 10 year old,
i got molested in public.
My cousin started touching me out of the blue.
& my aunt was sitting beside him.

I started crying and complaining to my mother.
She didn't care,
instead she scolded me and send me back home.
After her work was done,
she went home and she started hitting me.
Apparently,
i cried for the whole day.

& now, every time when he comes,
i have to entertain him & keep him company as my punishment.
My parents would always have something on that day and he would request to come to my house.
& every time when he comes,
he would just randomly touch me without fail.
& nobody would be at home to see that.

But i have friends that would protect me,
and just today i got touch by my friend.
He started touching me when we were at the park.
When i pushed him away,
he grabbed me.

After i left him,
my arm was filled with bruises because he grabbed me so hard.
I couldn't cried.

Because when i cried with a sound,
even a very tiny squeak,
my father would never fail to hit me.
& everytime i cried,
it would either be when i was bathing or when it was going to be bed time when i would be alone.

I was always trying to protect my sister even though she is 5 years older then me.
She cared for me alot,
so practically,
i only got her now.

I never received treatment nor anything.
I just kept to myself.
& because of this,
i wouldn't want to go to school,
and i became a hooligan.

& until now,
this nightmare still continues,
yet worst.
Th story i just told was only half.

Heh, most screw up girl to me.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Shadowlight and Co

by Shadowlight and Co
(Location Undisclosed)

We have dissociative identity disorder (DID) which is why we speak in plural so often: 
We are scared to put this up as so many have not believed us in the past... We do not remember that much of the bodys history, but we do know bits and we shall share those. When the body was small the mother would punich it if we ever cried. The mother saw crying as weakness, and weakness was bad. She said she was trying to make us stronger. She would pur cold water over us or lock us outside, we cannot remember the reasons for this.

When we were 6 our half brother was born. THe mother got married when the body was 5, but we do not remember this. Soon after this the mother tried to kill herself, we saw... It was awful. She lived though, we are told that we saved her, we called the ambulance, but we do not remember this.

THere is a gap here in memory. Next we remember the body was 10 and the mother was shouting at us. Saying we are selfish and weak, then she came at us with a knife... we still hav the scar now.

At 15 the mother told us to drop out of school and get a job as we were too stupid to do anything other than stacking shelves anyway. We refused, so she threw us out... We ended up homeless for 2 weeks before someone offered us a flat. But the landlord came round, manipulated us, saying we had to date him or we would be evicted.... we complied, we had no choice. After a few months he sold us to a drug dealer for a night as he had no money. That night we were raped at knife point.

The man we lived with started to get violent, hitting and beating us. threatening us and tying us up.
By now we were at college, and had 2 part time jobs, but he still expected us to do all the cooking and housework, and would punish us if it was not good enough.

Then he started to rape us too... we got pregnant twice, lost both children...

We ran away when body 19, told noone where we went. Now the body is 22, and we live with the hosts new partner, he is good to us and very kind. We still struggle though, with nightmares, flashbacks, hypervigilance, anorexia, self-harm and agoraphobia to name a few... But slowly we are recovering, our past makes us who we are, it has taught us much. We just wish that we could remember it all.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Shelby A

by Shelby A
(Minnesota, USA)

I am Now 15 years old,Almost 16,i was 14 years old when i was molested by my stepmoms dad.i never saw it coming he doesnt even speak english and i never really knew him.he would come up with his wife for a couple weeks in the summer,It was august 27th the day it happed, the day before we had went to the State Fair.I thought everythign was great.I had no idea that the next mornig this would happen.i woke up to go to the bathroom and he was the only one up.he was laying in this bed watching a movie when i came out of the bathroom he was looking in the kitchen i heard the radio on so i looked to see who was watching tv my little brother and cousin were sleeping on the couch,when i tried to go down stairs my stepmoms dad stoped me,he was mumbuling somethign to me, it sounded,like he was asking me,if i had a boyfriend, i said yes cause i was scared, then he hugged me and put his lips to mine, he then put his tongue in my mouth.when he was done, i was terrified i had no idea what to do.so i went back down stairs and and cried on my bed for hours my stepsister was laying next to me and didnt wake up.then i started packign all my stuff and went on the front step.when my stepsister woke up i called my mom with her phone.i sat outside in the rain crying for hours befor my mom came to pick me up.when i got in the care she wanted to know what happed,but i didnt feel like talking about it.i didnt tell anyone till November,when i told my close friend, she told me i need to tel my mom so four months later i did,i didnt tell my dad or stepmom till august of 09.tellign them tore my life apart, but helped in a way,i do not talk to my stepfamily anymore and me and my dads realtionship has changed, we talk once a month i only see him once every three months,i am getting over it still.i have nightmares all the time of it.its been hard but ive used what happend to try and make myself stronger.All i can say is dont let it consume your life,I didnt tell it an it makes things worse, i started doing drugs hopign it would help,but it doesnt,the only thing ive found to help is to talk about it as hard as it may be.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Connor G

by Connor G
(United Kingdom)

Hurt Poem: 
i was hurt
he made me fill bad
he made me think of my mum
he made me fill sad
he wanted me to do stuff
he wanted me to do anything
i dont know why
but he also wanted me to sing
my blood was riseing
my head full of my past
is this my last hour
it was going fast
his hand made me fill stressed
i blammed myself for this
all i could think of were happy memories
or my favorite film abyis
he finally let me go
but i cryed the next day
sickness came apon me
he got his way
i sat on my bed
waiting for sleep
my mum would stare at me
just for a peek
i never realised that i was loved
by my parents and sister
they would help me if i was hurt
no matter how small a blister
but now im safe
and no longer alone
but when i was with him
i wanted to be home




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Danica

by Danica
(Canada)

My first memory of being abused is really blurry still and i dont know who it was, i remember being in a dark room and someone standing in front of me and telling me to put it in my mouth, i know that i had done it before but in this memory i said no. all i remember is standing there and saying no.

i remember this burning feeling i always got in my vagina, and i would cry and cry and complain about it all the time. my mom had me in and out of the doctors all the time but they told us that it was psychological. i've recently learned that thats a sign of sexual abuse, how the doctors didnt know that i dont know, and if they did, then why the f*** didnt they tell my mom?

my real dad told me a story once of how when i was little i told my aunt that me and some of the other girls had been kissing eachother on our privates, but i feel that if i told her about it then i didnt think there was anything wrong with it.

when i was about three years old, my mom met this guy who later became my step-dad. i have no idea when the abuse started, i remember when i was still really little he would tell me that he loved me and that we were going to run away and get married but we couldnt let anyone know, it was just a game though he would hold my hand and we would start running untill we seen someone then we would turn and run back to the house. I loved him soo much, he was like the dad i never had. and he was perfect, and my mother was soo happy this being her third marriage.

the abuse was never much and it usually happened in the mornings or when my mom was sleeping or when my mom wasnt home. all through my life i was very cuddly and i would crawl into bed with my mom. he would cuddle into me and rub my tummy, and then eventually slip his hands down my pants. sometimes i would put his hands down them myself just so he would do it. for some reason i was convinced that he was sleeping and doing it. cause he wouldn't say anything and his eyes would be closed. this went on for years, i liked it. i would crawl into the bed just so he could do it, my mind knew how wrong it was but my body enjoyed it.

me and my friends would always play out sex games, and have sex in my bed, sometimes my mom would come in and we would say that we were hiding from her and stuff. but i dont know how she didnt know we were fooling around by the looks on our faces and the fact that we always chose to hide in the bed...

remember how i said that i used to think he was sleeping, well he always snored, and he would never snore while he was doing this to me, and after a while he had some sleep test done on him and the tests showed that he wasnt sleeping properly, and would wake him self up like every 5 mins or soo. he had to get this breating apparatus thing, and after he got that and actually could get a good nights sleep he never touched me, unless he didnt wear it.

when i was about 12, thats when i started having angry outburst. i would scream at my mom and stepdad and tell my stepdad how much i hated him and wished he would die.
i would get mad at my mom too, and just scream and scream for hours.

finally when i was about 15 i got fed up with it, and chose to go live with my real dad. i was still really confused and didnt know how to have a relationship with a dad, my head was f***** up. we were staying in a hotel one night and shared a bed. and i put his hand down my pants. the next morning though he asked me about it, i denyed it but at that point i realized that my stepfather must have known what he was doing to me. i think i did that to see what would happen and it showed me that my stepfather knew.

the last time my stepfather ever touched me was on easter break about four years ago, him and my mom came and took me for a vacation we had gone to the hotsprings and i got a really bad burn and he was rubbing lotion on my back for me. and i started to dose off, and this time he fingered me from behind. then when i woke up he wasnt there anymore.

i went back to live with them eventually but never went into their room and he never came into mine.

i confronted him just over a year ago now, he was on his knees crying and apologizing. he said he only ever remembered doing it once and it made him sick to think about it. i remember telling him that i thought it was my fault and he was quick to accept that as an excuse. but i know that it wasn't my fault. i know that he knew what he was doing to me. he wanted to tell my mom but i told him not to, that i still love him and i forgive him and if i wanted to ruin his life i would have done it in a lot worse way.

i still get really angry at my mom and only recently shes asked me if i was ever molested. ive told her my other stories(that i didnt write in here) but not the one about my stepfather. i dont ever want her to know. i'm still mad at her though and i cant help it, i know that all the signs were there right in front of her nose. and she couldnt see them.

my real father knew right away after i went to live with him. we got into a fight over something and i cried and he asked have you been molested and i started crying even harder.

i still have troubles with it, it still hurts. I'm a cutter and have been cutting since i was about 12. its the only way i know how to deal with pain. i dont know if the pain will ever go away...

but im back living with my real father again and its getting easier, ill soon be 19 and its been four years since anything has happened. and im never going to let anything happen to me again




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Craig

by Craig
(Location Undisclosed)

I'm not sure if this counts as child abuse, but its had an effect on me, and I'm sure that it was wrong. When I was 9/10 years old, two older girls who were maybe 14/15 started bullying me, nothing much just physical bullying but one of them started becoming worse.. she used to make me touch her, lick her vagina, make me strip for her whilst she laughed. This continued for about 2 years, until she left the school we both attended - it became far easier to avoid her then. I said I'm not sure if this counts as abuse, I should probably have considered myself lucky to be doing stuff like this with an older girl when I was so young, but its left me with a fear of intimacy and an extreme sexual phobia - i'm now 27 and a virgin, despite having several steady girlfriends and attempting sex numerous times I just have a panic attack every time I try. Guess the reason I'm posting this is that I wonder if i should just get over myself, if I should have considered myself lucky, or if this is a kind of abuse which maybe should be reported or something. Thanks for reading.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Sammijo

by Samantha
(Kentucky, USA)

My Nightmare: 
I am currently 15. WHen i was just 6 i was a victim of incest. My two older brothers would do really horrible things and yet they called it a game. When we first started playing this game it wasn't nothing very serious but each time it got a little worse. Finally about 3 or 4 weeks before i was supposed to start first grade my mother happened to look out the back window while doing dishes and seen a small portion of what was happening and came running outside. I was the one she blamed, i should have known better, but i had also been threatened by my brothers and i wouldn't talk to anyone. I was the one that got a whopping and had to leave the house. My mother wasn't going to report it but then my dad, which they were divorced, made sure that she did. I went through hell the next couple of weeks. Seeing lots of doctors, people kept asking me questions, I wouldn't eat and i would cry myself to sleep which was full of horrifying nightmares. A couple of days before school was supposed to start i had to pack all my stuff and move far away from my family to live with my aunt and uncle till the court granted my dad custody. It still haunts me today and it has hurt me in more way than one. I have had a therapist for the past nine years of my life, I've been on medication to help me sleep, to keep me from having panic attacks, I was even diagnosed with manic depression as a 6 year old. I still take alot of medication, still see a therapist, but i don't like for anyone to touch me, and i can't really talk about myself so i keep to myself and get through each day without finally breaking and doing something bad. I stay in trouble my grades don't stay good for very long. I ask myself everyday why didn't they just kill me and why me. If only some of the people i know would realize that joking about abuse isn't funny especially if you were the victim.




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Child Abuse Story From Megan O

by Megan O
(Springfield, Virginia, USA)

I am currently 15 years old - and I am almost about to be 16. I was in foster care (3 diff. homes) when I was 8 until I turned 9, and then I was returned home when right before my 9th birthday against my wishes. I was recently told that my foster parents back then might have adopted me if I hadn't been returned home. My parents abused me again relentlessly (physically, mentally, and sexually a few times) until I was removed from home when I had just turned 14, and I have been in two different homes since then. My most poignant memory is having to sit there while my mom beat the crap out of me, with my mouth taped shut so I wouldn't alert the neighbors, tied up in the basement, and after that, she would throw food on me and make me drink out of the toilet. And the worst part is that she only got probation - SHE DIDN'T EVEN GO TO JAIL!!! I am currently in "permanent foster care", but what I really want is to be adopted by a new family. I like my home now, but something just doesn't 'click'. I wish people could see through to the emotional side of my heart, which feels like I have a gaping hole in it. I have never really been included in a loving home, and that is what I want more than anything in this whole wide world. I want a family to laugh with and go on vacations with, a mom who doesn't hurt me, and a dependable dad. I want siblings who accept me for who I am - I just want a NORMAL life. I want my kids to have grandparents (something I never really got to experience), and a dad to walk me down the aisle at my wedding. Nobody seems to get how much it hurts to see all of my friends (and even my foster brother) getting love and hugs and holding hands, while I am just sitting here trying to act like it is no big deal. I am talking to people in my treatment team to get them to get parents' rights terminated so that I CAN be adopted, and hopefully my life works out well. I am praying to God that whatever childhood I have left can be enjoyed with a family!




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From KC1

by KC
(Location Undisclosed)

We were very poor growing up. We were made more so by the fact that our father was alcoholic and incapable of holding a job for long and by the constant moving around from town to town, from state to state. I was the youngest child in my family and the only one to come from my father's second marriage. Now my father (and his family) loved his first wife, who passed away leaving him alone with my siblings. Then he married my mother- because babysitters were more expensive than wives apparently. I spent the entire first 7 years of my life terrified of that man.

I have yet to find any memory I have of this world more painful than the one of watching my mother being hit repeatedly and chased through the house until she reached our room and being held against a wall and strangled while watching helplessly from the closet, and hoping I wasn't next. He let her go right before she passed out and she slid down the wall and huddled into a ball much like the one I remember being in and rocking, not looking up. Eventully he wanted supper so my mother uncurled and went to cook supper, silent and unquestioning of the treatment.

It was different for us kids though. We weren't 'abused' the way she was, we were 'disciplined' (the author observes this with a great deal of irony). For instance... If my siblings and I had an argument that escalated to a physical fight we weren't allowed to stop fighting until blood was drawn. In any event the punishments we were offered were usually related to the crimes we committed, as opposed to the blatant beatings that our mother recieved. Eventually after several years of physical/emotional/verbal abuse/discipline my mother, fearing for our lives, fled the state and filed for a divorce.

At last we were free... of the physical abuse. Young and single my mother went to the only source of support she had now that she was single and alone and had us to care for. She went to her parents, who did not hesitate to help us. Of course, this aid was not offered without a price. We were forced to sit through every meal listening to our mother being told repeatedly of her mistakes and her flaws and how she unlike their other children was a source of disappointment for them. Of course we weren't fearing for our lives so on a comparative level being repeatedly reminded how worthless your family is, how unlike the other members of your family you are, how shameful your history was, and some other crap about how your mother had sinned was not really as obvious abuse at the time. Eventually that evolved into 'aren't you getting a little over fat dear? you don't want to turn out like your mother' 'if you don't help me out with this, remember I don't have to take your mother to work today'. It went from fearing for our lives to being emotionally manipulated and blackmailed for the next 12 years.

I don't care what anyone says... what my relatives did was just as bad as what my father did. It doesn't matter that I had no bruises to show for it, they had no right to use us to hurt our mother or to use our mother to try and hurt us.
But I survived. So this is my story, and this is what I have learned: if it's not something you can do to someone else without feeling guilty, and it's happening to you, odds are good it's some form of abuse. If anyone raises their fist against you or threatens to kill you... I don't care what the reason is, LEAVE.

Afterwards, get some counseling. Even if the counselors that you get landed with seem completely useless at the time, just verbalizing the thoughts alone will help more than you realize.

And with that rousing endorsement for therapy, *grin*...

You will not EVER make excuses for them because no matter what they say that there is NO excuse for what they've done. You are stronger than they will ever let you believe, you are stronger than they will ever know. You are capable of getting through this, and you deserve a life where you don't have to struggle to prove any of this because You. Already. Have.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Me3

by Name Undisclosed (15 year-old-girl)
(Denmark)

I'm a fifteen years old girl from Denmark and I would like to tell my story. My father can sometimes get so angry at me or my sister and brother that he loses his temper. He'd grab my upper arm tightly and yell at me. I would tell him to stop because it hurt. He usually stopped then. I remember clearly the first time it happened.

We (my mother, father, older sister and younger brother) were on a vacation in Italy when I was 12 or 13 or so, and he got angry at me, though I don't remember the reason why, and he slapped me. I had started crying and told him that he wasn't alloud to hit me and then he got even more angry. He told me that he never hit me and that I should not tell anyone that he did because that would be lying. I still insisted that he had and he took me walking around on the camp. He told me that he was sorry and that I still shouldn't say anything because he could get into prison and I didn't want that at all. It has been a long time since he have touched me, because I'm in boarding school but a few weeks ago when I was home for the weekend he got so angry at my sister that he chased her upstairs into her room. My mother who was stitting downstairs where I was too, got up and ran after him yelling: "Don't touch her!"

I grabbed my iPod and turned it on so that I didn't have to hear them fight again.

I really love my father and this doesn't happen often and it isn't that bad.




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Child Abuse Story From Lila

by Lila
(Location Undisclosed)

Mom's boyfriends and dad: 
My mom started dating again she was with a guy named andi for 2 years, since i was 4. She thought he could support us he was mean to my brother he left a scar on my brothers mouth he almost drowned him when they were swimming in a pool, he touched me alot he did other things to me, I didnt say anything though he told me not to, everytime I was left alone with him I got very creeped out, I started having bad nightmeres, teachers at my school thought i was abused, i was quite a strange kid. he always brought me my mom and my brother nice gifts.

My mom had to go to new orleans for about a month in the summer I was 6, she left me and my brother with him, it got very bad then, he wouldnt let me leave the house, he did all this stuff to me, I tried to lock myself in my room, he beat me very badly, I didnt get dinner, he said even worse stuff would happen if i didnt listen to what he said, he always locked the front door and there were gates in the back, i didnt have a key, i wouldnt have the guts to leave anyways, it hurt alot for awhile than i got used to it, i cried everynight in my room, I couldnt cry infront of him. When my mom was supposed to come back he beat me really badly i broke 2 ribs and my arm, I still have some scars.

He ran away, my mom came back and took me to the hostpital she lied her ass off about what happend to me. i blocked alot of this out and it started to come back to me as i got older, it has affected me very negatively in the long run, I tried to live with my dad in 7th grade but he was very mean to me he would throw stuff at me and yell at me I tried to stay out of the house as much as possible, i loved my friends there they were wonderful and i was very popular though, we were mostly very poor and we were always stoned we tripped out on exstacy and hungout with cute highschool guys and 20 yearolds it was wonderful. Now i live with mom and i am unbelivably depressed, i dont get along with most of the girls at my school i sleep over at random guys houses beacuse i hate my house, my mom never has any food our house is creepy, and she still has yucky boyfriends.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Anikah

by Anikah
(Location Undisclosed)

When I was four my brother sexually abused me, while we were in the bathtub. It continued frequently until I was seven or eight. After it stopped I completely blocked it out, I didn't tell anyone. Until one day when it all came back, I told my boyfriend at the time, and he told me to tell my mom. I couldn't figure out how to tell her, so I wrote her a letter, and put it in her book she reads every night before she goes to bed. She was shocked, but really happy I told her, she understood why I didn't tell her for so long, seeing how my brother still lives with me. As of right now, I'm seventeen years old and very close to moving out on my own. My brother hits me occasionally, one time he threw a bowl of hot soup, fresh off of the stove at me, it burned me from the top of my ribs to my hip. I have not been to therapy or consoling for it, but I really would like to. Thank you for reading my story.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Rosie

by Rosie
(Location Undisclosed)

Emotional Abuse? 
My experience isn't that bad compared with everyone else here, I'm not even sure if it qualifies or I'm just feeling sorry for myself. My father was always neglectful when I was growing up, not really paying attention to me unless he felt like it. He also travelled for business all the time. When he got angry with me, always over small things or occasionally nothing at all, he would scream and yell and I would be too terrified to yell back. He stood over me while I sat there trying not to cry. Once, I didn't understand a homework problem and asked for help. He tried explaining it but I still didn't understand, so he just kept saying the same thing over and over but raising his voice every time. I still couldn't understand, but was desperately trying so that he wouldn't get angrier. My mother walked in and made him stop. Another time he was driving me home from a basketball game (I was a cheerleader in middle school). He had laughed at something I had done while we were there, and it annoyed me so I asked him not to laugh at me in public anymore. He started screaming at me, and told me to "get a damn grip." Another time he had yelled at me on the way to a horseback riding lesson, and then acted like nothing had happened, trying to talk to me while I was waiting for the lesson to start. I was withdrawn, and he told me that if I was embarrassed to be seen with him that could be taken care of, meaning (I guess) that he would just move out and not see me ever. I know it sounds like we did a lot, with him taking me different places, but the truth is that these were the only things he did do. Drove me places sometimes and got involved when he felt like it. Despite the neglect and occasional outbursts (which my mother didn't know about, he usually didn't yell at me in front of her. she was and still is a wonderful mother and I thank God for her) my childhood wasn't that bad. My mother made it good. But when my father moved out (my parents were splitting up) he all of a sudden decided he wanted to have a relationship. I didn't, by then I was scared of him and he had neglected me for so many years I felt no love for him; we hadn't developed a relationship when I was younger and I didn't feel the need to start when I was 14 and walking on eggshells around him. But he was persistent, and I just focused on at least not having to leave the house with him so we wouldn't be alone. He acted like I was doing something wrong by not wanting to be with him. He was very persistent, and I had to go with him a few times despite the fact that I was scared. After a while, when I was 15, I just stopped talking to him or seeing him. He would call and email, and still emails occasionally. Sometimes the emails are nothing, just chatting, sometimes they are mean, calling me disrespectful, unforgiving, cold-hearted, saying I am a bad Catholic, and that I am using him for his money (he had to pay some of my high-school tuition, it was courted ordered, but even though he is supposed to pay for some of my college he doesn't contribute anything, didn't even offer). Sometimes the emails imply that I have been brainwashed, they deny the truth despite the fact that people (a therapist and a lawyer) have told him that I am afraid of him. I recently started college, and haven't spoken to him in almost five years. I didn't tell him where I was going to college, but somehow he found out. I still don't know how. He found out where I go to school and my school email address (which needless to say I did not give him) and emailed me at that address just to show me that he could. He has continued to email me at that address since despite the fact that my old account is still active. I never respond. I want to tell him off, yell at him, but I am too scared of what he will do. Last summer he showed up at my house uninvited twice within one hour. I was so scared I wouldn't stay home the next day, I made my mother take me to work with her. I don't know how to relate to men properly. I crave attention and physical affection, but am scared of making them angry or making them dislike me. I had a sort of argument, can't even really call it an argument, with a guy friend the other day that was over in five minutes. Instead of getting over it I'm still kind of angry and don't know how to properly relate to him anymore. I don't want him to get angry again. Its because I was always so afraid of my father getting angry that I was always walking on eggshells, and because I could never say anything when he yelled at me, even if I was angry because it was uncalled for. I don't know if I'll ever be able to relate to people, especially men, properly. I cut myself because of low self-esteem, especially if I feel like someone dislikes me. I always feel like the depressing girl because I feel like I talk about him too much. I know I haven't had it that bad so sometimes, like right now, I feel guilty for complaining at all, because it could have been a lot worse.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Bri

by Bri
(Location Undisclosed)

Every day was a struggle. Coming home from school with no parent there. My parents were divorced. And I was split down the middle. At my dads house I was happy, safe. At my moms house I never knew what was coming. I stayed in my room all night. Working on homework. Talking to friends. She would get home around 10 stumbling. Come up to my room and ask what was for dinner. I told her i left her something in the kitchen and double locked my door. I heard the stumbling through my music. Went downstairs to try to help. All i got was beatings. In the morning when I woke up she was passed out and couldn't even hear us. I left and went to school. I was the happy girl. You look in my eyes and you'd see a laughing girl. You'd see my smile and wouldn't think anything was wrong. You'd lift up my shirt. And you'd see the bruises.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Forever Damaged Part 1

by Name Undisclosed
(New York, USA)


Just One Memory Can Hurt a Lifetime: 
I remember being little, not school aged yet but not in pampers. Let me take you back to my one and only memory. I had blocked out whatever happened to me and I have yet to know if it was the one time or more. I had nightmares and always had this one memory in my mind, ever since I was 3 or 4 years old. Its amazing what you can remember at such a young age.

I was at my grandmothers house. She is my father's mother. My father has 3 siblings, one of them, hurt me forever!!!

I remember being in the "TV room" as we called it. My grandmother was in her bedroom down the hall. Why she let my uncle be alone with me, I will never know, I guess she never thought he could be so evil!!! I remember my uncle giving me some kind of toy to play with, I guess to keep me occupied. My uncle pulled down my pants and my panties, he then used his penis to rub up and down against my bottom, I don't remember how long this went on or why I didn't try to stop him, why I didn't call for my grandmother or even if it made me uncomfortable. My uncle never said a word (at least I don't remember him saying anything to me during it or after). My grandmother must have wondered what I was doing because she called my name, when she did, my uncle pulled my clothes back up and let me go. I remember my grandmother asking me what was I doing and I said "playing".

That is the only memory I have of that. I saw my uncle and wasn't afraid of him, as a matter of fact, he was around almost everyday of my life. I never said a word. Not until I was 18 years old.

My grandmother watched my son from birth until I told when my son was 18 months old. I went to school and my husband (he was my boyfriend at the time) worked.

One day I came to pick my son up from my grandmother's home. My uncle was there. As I was getting ready to leave, my uncle picked my son up and gave him a hug and tried to kiss him, my son pulled away from him and I saw that memory I had buried almost 15 years ago!!! It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I wanted to vomit!! The thought of that bastard touching my son was too overwhelming!!! I grabbed my son and said he doesn't want a kiss. I just walked out the door with a c-ya later to my grandmother!! I cried and cried and my husband asked me what was wrong....for the first time in 15 years, I told what happened, I let that deep dark secret have a voice!!!

I was trembling and my heart was pounding, I told him what I have just shared with you, I told him how I felt when I saw our son struggling to get out of his arms!! I told him I was going to tell my dad and my grandmother. I did!! But the only good thing that came out of that was I felt better, I felt strong and that I was not ashamed of saying it was his FAULT!! He did this to me!!

My grandmother is in denial, she thinks that I would have said something when I was little or that she would have seen something in me. My dad was furious but that went away in time. To my knowledge, my Aunt (his sister) is the only one who confronted him (I have not yet!! I am still too scared and embarrassed to say out loud to him that I know what he did!! One day though!! I will!!!)

My uncle denied what he did!! Of course!!

My family still has him around, family parties, holidays whatever!!! I tell them if he's gonna be there, my family and I wont!! My dad said its not fair that I make the family choose!! WOW!!! Really!!

I told him, I am not making anyone choose!! I am choosing, for my children!! I didn't have the courage for me...but for my babies, I found the strength, I found the courage, to protect them always!!!

I also found out that his father molested my aunt. My grandmother and father were also molested (all with penetration) by different people (unknown to me)! They want to keep their secret and who the monster was...I guess they will until they die and forever after that!! Maybe that is why the can be so cold about all of this. Maybe that is how they can still have my uncle around knowing what he did to me.

My uncle is one of the millions of child molesters that ruin a child's life, that steals their innocence, that changes who that child was suppose to be!! Who rapes them of their personalities, who puts them in counseling for the rest of their lives, who makes that child feel betrayal, mistrust and pain!!! And no consequences for them what so ever!!!

I have been in counseling for 12 years....ever since I told!! I will forever!! There is soooo much more to my story....I am in process of writing my own book....someday I hope to have it published...you will know because I will mention that I first shared my story with people I didn't know, on this site!!!

My heart aches so much for the children who had to endure soo much worse than I did and to those who are still enduring it!!

I say to anyone reading this...please...no matter who you tell...anyone who you can tell...keep telling until someone listens, until someone reacts and helps you and then continue telling, you will get a little piece of you back every time you tell someone what that monster did to you!!! I know, it is sooo hard to find courage and strength and to know who to trust but there is someone, a lot of people to tell. I know you will be scared, and yes you will be removed from that home and maybe separated from your brothers and sisters and I know that is the scariest thing, but with all that, just know that finally, it will stop and when the bad person is behind bars, things will get better. Everyday you keep that secret, you die a little more, and it gets harder to tell. Everyday that bad person feels like he is never going to get caught because he didn't yesterday!!!

Please after you read this, if the person is there that hurts you, don't do anything right now but when you get that chance, when you can, call the police (911) call one of these numbers listed on this site tell them you don't have much time and that you are afraid that you will be caught telling, when the police come TRUST them and cry and tell them...tell them he or she rapes you!!! Use the words RAPES or BEATS YOU. if you say "hurts me" adults tend to think that means mommy or daddy spanked you or punished you!!! Use strong words so they know what you are saying...don't be afraid!!! They will stop the bad person from hurting you!!

At school, tell your teacher, tell the principal, the gym teacher, anyone, let them know that you can not go back home now that you have told, if they try to say its okay, say NO!!!! Its not, tell them how long and all the awful details! I know its embarrassing and you feel dirty but that will get their attention and they will know its not just a little kid mad because someone took away their video games or spanked them too hard!!

Please. I want to help every child from all the horrible things they have to go through. I wish I was there to hold your hand through this, so you wont be afraid, I wish I was there with you right now!! In my heart I am!!! Please because I can not be there to be your strength, you be your strength, be your own power.

Tell more than one person, tell, tell, tell!!! That is the only way this will stop!!!! The bad person will keep doing this everyday until they kill you or until they are caught!!!! You have to tell!! They will not stop on their own!! When you tell, things will stop!!! You can be free again!! This is not your fault!!! The person wont kill your mom or dad or brother or sister!!!! People will believe you!!! You are not dirty or disgusting!!! THEY ARE!!! No matter how scary they are...they DO NOT WANT TO GO TO JAIL!!! THAT IS WHY THEY WANT YOU TO KEEP IT A SECRET!!! THEY DO NOT WANT TO GO TO JAIL!! Find the courage and TELL PEOPLE!!!! These bad people know that you are afraid, that you are just a kid that is why they chose you!! Because you are an innocent kid!! No matter what, you never did anything wrong!!! NEVER!!!

Continued in Part 2 below




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Forever Damaged Part 2

by Name Undisclosed
(New York, USA)

Continued from Part 1 above: 
YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!! BE FREE!!! I PRAY FOR YOU AND I KNOW YOU WILL FIND THE COURAGE!!! IF YOU DON'T DO IT TODAY, DO IT TONIGHT, OR TOMORROW, OR THE NEXT DAY!! I BELIEVE YOU WILL FIND THE COURAGE AND YOU ARE BRAVE FOR JUST READING THIS AND THINKING ABOUT TELLING!! SEE YOU HAVE ALREADY TAKEN THAT FIRST BABY STEP IN BEING FREE!! JUST CLOSE YOUR EYES AND LEAP!!! LEAP AND TELL EVERYONE OR ANYONE!!! BE FREE LIKE A BIRD!!! YOU ARE LOVED AND CARED BY PEOPLE LIKE ME THAT HAVE BEEN THERE AND TOOK THAT LEAP!!! I LOVE YOU BECAUSE I KNOW THAT YOU ARE HURTING AND I KNOW THAT YOU ARE A LOVING BEAUTIFUL CHILD THAT WANTS TO BE FREE BUT NEEDS SOMEONE TO GUIDE YOU...I AM HERE...IN MY WORDS...FEEL MY COURAGE TO SPEAK....TAKE MY LOVE AND STRENGTH AND UNDERSTANDING AND LEAP!!!! BE FREE.

One more thing I wanna say about me....I will always wonder....

Had my uncle never molested me when I was just a little girl, if he never stole my innocence, if he never took advantage of me and taught me to care about the needs and selfishness of a man before my own, if he never exposed me to things that were never suppose to happen...if he never changed who I was supposed to be...how I was suppose to see men...How I was suppose to understand true love and self-worth....if he never stole those things from me.

Would I have still been...FOREVER DAMAGED?!!!




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Lauren S

by Lauren S
(Missouri, USA)

When i was 14 years old i was raped everynight from july 4rth to september 22nd i came into foster care at 15 on september 23rd 2008. i was planning on living with my sister but it all ended in pain. i have no dad and he left me at age 8 and ever since then i wanted a father figure and never got one... until now im looking for him.my life couldnt be better im going to be living with my aunt and uncle pretty soon and i cant wait!!! tune in for more of the life of the sweet sixteener




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Lauren S Part 2

by Lauren S
(Missouri, USA)

well you will never guess everyone but im leaving on july 7th and it looks as if though the sweet sixteener has returned and is in full control of her life and im going to live with aunt and uncle im so happy and everyone has been so supprotive ill keep posting you from the seat of an sweet sixteener




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From FinallyFree Part 1

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Even the first memories I have involve abuse. Being taken into their bedroom and held down night after night while they "did what was best for me", I suppose. As they would walk me into that room and I saw their bed, the pit of my stomach would ache and I would begin to struggle free from their grasp, knowing full well what was about to happen. They would pin me down, my Mom in front telling me "its ok sweetie" all the while I'm screaming at the top of my lungs, struggling to break free. My Dad behind hogging all the fun for himself. After a while, I would just lay there motionless; fighting was useless.

Sometimes I imagine what that tiny little girl was like back then. I wonder what parts of her were really her and what parts were not. She wanted to be loved and accepted so much that she was willing to pay any price for that. She thought the only way she could have that was to give up her self completely. And she did. She idealized her abuser and believed that everything he did was right. He would often punish her by spanking and touching her for his own pleasure. She wanted to believe he loved her and did what was best for her. She was her Dad's precious little girl so she found ways to deal with the pain and humiliation; to put it all aside and focus on the love she thought was real. There were no boundaries between what was right and what was wrong because he was what was right. She was quiet and shy, never saying a word to anyone, afraid of the World. She would wear his little dresses and model them just for him. He would applaud in joy and awe. She was daddy's little girl.

He loved his "practical jokes". From telling me there were spiders in the toilet that would crawl up me to placing things in my private parts while I slept so he and my brother could have a good laugh. He took pleasure in the humiliation and fear that others would suffer at his own hand.

Each night he would tuck me in and tell me how much he loved me and that he may not be around the next morning. He was in his late 50s then and often thought his days were numbered. In his selfish ways he used that to manipulate me further without even a care as to how that would affect his small child. Yet, even though he was so horrible, I would pray to God that he not take my Daddy and if he did, he might as well take me too.

See Part 2 below.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From FinallyFree Part 2

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

My transition into "womanhood" began in the sandbox. I was 8 years old when my brother showed me how he could satisfy himself. "You can do that too, on yourself, you know." So it began. I would play and experiment with pleasuring myself when I was alone. After all, it was new but it felt good so why not?

My brother had been having nightmares so Mom had been sleeping with him for comfort. She thought it would be good for me to sleep downstairs in their room with Dad so I wouldn't feel "left out". Things started off fine for the first night. We watched mystery shows and ate dinner then fell asleep on the big queen sized bed.

One night, Dad fell asleep early while watching TV and I thought to myself, maybe if I were very quiet, I could do what my brother suggested but this turned out not to be the case. Dad woke up and asked what I was doing under the sheets. I could see the excitement in his face. He thought I was doing it for him. When there was no response, he said he wanted to show me something. I was confused as he proceeded to remove my underwear. I glanced down only to see those eyes staring up at me so intently as he performed oral sex on me while fondling me. Those dark hollow eyes would be a memory that would haunt me for years to come. Immediately hiding my face in the pillows, I thought: is this really what Daddy's do? This was so weird I didn't know what to think. My mind began to wander and I was no longer present. The physical feelings were gone and I had escaped for just a little bit. He could do whatever he wanted and it wouldn't have mattered.

After a while I mumbled "no, daddy" but the words fell on deaf ears. Could I bring myself to say it again? Would he still love me if I did? "NO!" I screamed in hesitation. He came to an abrupt stop.

A few days went by and the confusion grew. What had just happened and why? Dad was now at work and I was lingering around the doorway to my parent's bedroom chatting with my Mom about everyday things. I was hesitating because I knew in the pit of my stomach that something wasn't right and I wanted to tell her but I was scared. Grasping at the doorframe for strength, hiding my face so she couldn't see the anguish in my expression. Mom's tone suddenly became serious: "Is there something you need to tell me?" With one look at her daughters face, she continued, "if anyone ever hurts you, you can tell me". But could I really tell? Could I do that to him? What would happen? I had to protect him. Yet still, I could not deny that something felt wrong.

I thought maybe if I only hinted that something had happened, Mom would not catch onto whom I was referring to. But that was not the case. I would learn years later that she had found my underwear lying on the floor next to the bed after the incident. She uttered the words "Dad did, didn't he?" I panicked and begged her to let me talk to him. To let me be the one to tell him that he should never do it again. She wouldn't. "I'll deal with it," she said.

Mom left to pick Dad up at work later that day. I had been in my room crying because I was terrified of what would happen next. I felt helpless and scared of the thought of not having a Daddy anymore. He could not take care of himself and he would die without us. They pulled up and immediately went downstairs to their room screaming at each other along the way. Crouched upstairs in my room by the vent, I could hear the yelling. This was it. They were going to get a divorce and it was my fault. I was so stupid to tell. How could I have done that to him? He loved me and I betrayed him. Remembering flashbacks of Mom explaining years earlier how "Dad couldn't even find his way out of a grocery store" brought me to a new level of fear. How would he be expected to survive on his own?

A short while after the screaming had surpassed, Mom came into the room and said "Daddy wants to talk to you alone". I was so nervous that he would be mad for what I had done, and rightfully so, but the hours of crying had emotionally drained me. I was brought downstairs to their room and he had me sit on the edge of the bed next to him; the same bed where it had all happened just a few nights prior. He put his arm around me and said the words that I would never forget: "I'm sorry that this happened" he paused, "but you realize it's all your fault, right? Sometimes when you hug me, your hand falls near my genitals." As I looked up at him with horror, he became puzzled. "What?" he said, "Do you not realize that?" I shook my head. "Ah, well then" he grumbled, "all is forgiven". With that, he kissed the top of my head and gave me a big hug. Those were the last words that would be spoken about the issue for over a decade.

That little girl learned one very important lesson that day. She learned that she could never talk about it again because if her Mom ever knew what really happened, she would surely leave and the family would be broken. But as she grew his true thoughts became more and more apparent.

The fact that he continued to view me as just an object made me finally begin to question him. To live with someone that is supposed to love you yet they only see you as a sexual fantasy, is devastatingly hard. Always being on my guard to protect myself from him. He would try to walk in on me as I was changing or sleeping, just waiting for the opportunity to see me naked. He would smack me on the ass like a piece of meat as he walked by with a grin. The looks were the worst, as I knew exactly what disgusting thoughts he was thinking. He would tell me what nice curves I had and how beautiful my body was along with other inappropriate comments. He would hug me and always want to kiss me whenever he could with his prickly beard, hugging me to the point I could not breathe. He wasn't sorry for what he had done and I knew he would do it again, or worse, in a heartbeat if he had half the chance. Looking back now, I wonder how different my life would have been if I hadn't told my Mom that day.

Eventually I left that house and fell in love with the most genuine, unselfish, and good-hearted man I had ever met. He loved me for me, not what I could offer him sexually. He inspired me to pursue a college education and helped me to realize that I am worth more than I ever believed possible. Eight years later, we are still happily in love, I have a career I enjoy, and I live each day with a smile. I don't run from things I fear anymore but instead face each challenge head on with the help of Therapy. At age 25, I am happy to say, I am finally free.

Even though my father continues to believe that everything was my fault and my mother passively sticks by his side, I can realize that they are sick and that has nothing to do with me, nor is it my responsibility to take care of them. I will never let someone control me again as I let him for so many years. He is nothing to me now but a painful memory of an empty, hollow man.

I know there are so many people out there that know this story all too well. I encourage you to talk about it to anyone that will listen be it a therapist, close trusting friend, teacher, aunt, uncle, whatever and whoever you can open up to. If that seems impossible to you, then at least find some healthy and constructive way to get it out of you until you gather the strength to get help. Bearing all the pain upon yourself never solves the problem; it just makes it worse. No matter how hopeless you may feel, you can't let yourself give up. There is too much joy out there waiting for you to get through this.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: I welcome you to follow me on my Facebook page at Healing from Child Abuse. When you get there, don't forget to click onto the Become a Fan link. I hope to hear from you there!

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Child Abuse Story From Jen3 Part 1

by Jen
(Florida, USA)

I was around 4 yrs old when it started. My mother & father were arguing in their room, I can't remember what about, I was standing right outside the door next to my room crying holding my cabbage patch doll. My dad came out the room banging the door against the wall and I jumped out of fear. He leaned down giving me such a horrible & wicked look and yanked the doll out of my hand and threw it behind a space heater in my room. I ran into my room screaming in fear. When I was in elementary school my father would get in trouble constantly for leaving work early, not showing up to jobs on time, coming home on breaks/lunches, parking the company's work truck in the garage b/c his boss would send employees to check on where he was, having inappropriate conversations while at work, etc. When he would get caught constantly he would come home pissed off about it and call me dumb, stupid, and a retard for no reason from elementary thru high school. When I told my mom, she would tell me to ignore him. Whenever he would do something abusive toward me or my sister he would try to buy our love. He gave us an American express card, cell phone, vehicle, and/or money. He would intimidate mostly me but sometimes my sister. He would stomp around the house and try to find anything to yell about. If our friends called the house he would embarrass us. On one incident a boy in one of my classes in high school called and said, "hello may I speak with Jen?" My father responded saying, "her name is Jennifer so say it!" If we were watching tv in the living room (at the same time that he wanted to watch tv), he would go down to our rooms and search for anything to yell at us about. If he didn't find anything he would ask while screaming "did you read your books?" (Meaning: did you do your homework) My father barely knows how to speak English appropriately. My sister and I would both say yes and for some reason he would focus the attention on me and tell me to go to my room & study. Most, if not all, of the abuse occurred when my mother was at work or no adult was in the house. When my mother was told, it seemed as if the issue was swept underneath the rug, or annoyed b/c she had so much work to do, or bible quotes would be stated such as, "Honor thy parents" but she wouldn't say the quote, " Parents do not provoke your children." If she did address the issue to him, he would stay away from us and lock himself in his room. The abuse got worse once my sister left for college. Now I didn't have her to protect and watch over me. She would always stand up to him. If he put his hands on her for no reason she would defend herself. He stopped harassing her b/c he realized she wasn't scared of him. My sister told me to just try to ignore him and stay in my room and out of his way. But still he would come down to my room banging on the door and trying to start an argument. The day of my prom, my mom and dad were arguing again over something. My mom told me that she was going to church & to finish my chores and start getting ready. My dad was on the patio. When I finished, all of a sudden my dad comes in the house banging doors & I tried to ignore him and put the vacuum away asap so that I could go in my room to avoid him. He then screamed get your dirty clothes for me to wash, I told him that I didn't have any dirty clothes. My mom didn't want him washing any clothes b/c he didn't read instructions and he didn't even know how to do the laundry. He would just throw all of the clothes in the washing machine (dark/white) with Clorox. He then banged the door and screamed the same question again and I gave him the same answer. He then became enraged grabbing a belt and I ran to my room with the cordless phone to call my mom. He was screaming vulgar things through the door while banging on the door but he didn't realize that I had the phone and his entire ranting was caught on my mom's voicemail. He then told me that I better find my own ride to school and I screamed, "That's fine I will." This maniac then bust down the door and began hitting me in my face as hard as a punch or two men fighting. I at the time only weighed 108 while he weighed 260. I started screaming for help and he backed off of me giving me the same threatening looks that he would always give me and told me to stay in my room. I called my sister b/c she was at college and I told her what happened and she told me to go to her room and lock the door & push her dresser toward the door to keep him out. She stayed on the phone with me to keep me calm. I guess he realized that I was on the phone telling someone what he did and he came to the room banging on the door. I opened the door & he grabbed the phone from me & asked, "Who was I on the phone with?" I told him my sister. He then hung up the phone & took it with him the living room & started watching tv. My sister called back & he came back down to the room that I was locked in & gave me the phone. She told me that she tried calling mom. My dad yelled for me to come to him. I walked over with my face swollen from his hits & he tells me to lay down with him. I lay down and he holds me tight against him & starts watching tv as if he did nothing. After 5 minutes I asked him if I could go back to my room, he looks at me pissed off & tells me sternly, "yes."

See Part 2 below...




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Jen3 Part 2

by Jen
(Florida, USA)

Continued from Part 1 above: 
When my mom & grandma got home I ran to the front door & told her what he did to me. She yelled at him & he stands there looking obliviously acting as if he doesn't know what she's is talking about. She then yells at him, "Why did you hit her, b/c I don't want to have sex with you anymore?" I was shocked & appalled. I remembered my mom confessed to both me & my sister that she had fell out of love for our father for years. I told him exactly what my mom said & he tried to push my mom out the way to attack me. When he couldn't get to me, he asked my mom, if she loved him & she wouldn't answer. Later on in the day my mom came to my room crying & I expected her to be crying for me but to my surprise she asked me, "why did you tell your father what I had confessed to you & your sister? You shouldn't have done that." When I asked," did you hear what he said to me on your voicemail?" She said yes but that I shouldn't have said anything to him & that I asked for that to happen. I went to prom and she covered up the bruises on my face with makeup and he stayed in his room. When I got back she asked for me to sit down for a discussion with him. She was crying and showing emotion toward the situation while stating verses from the bible, but he was just lying on the bed as if he didn't do anything wrong. He never apologized & at the end of the conversation I told my mother that I was leaving the house & going to live with my grandmother. She then stated that I was holding on to grudges & that I would have to answer to god for that. I left the house & it was so peaceful while at my grandmother's house. I was no longer in fear for a while, until my grandma started having mood swings. There are a couple of abuse cases in my family that I know from conversation but no one even addresses it. It's just swept underneath the rug & never talked about. My grandma abused my mom when grandpa died. The man that my grandma remarried sexually abused my mom. My uncle abused his children. My aunt was abusive to her own children. My uncle lives with my grandma & stays locked in his room & doesn't talk to anyone. When grandma started having mood swings, I called my mom & asked her if I could come home, she tells me, "I'll come get you when I'm ready. She shows up a week later and picks me up. The abuse with my father continued all up until graduation. I left the house for college not excited to start a new life but to get away from him. I ended up dropping out of college due to issues with people. Individuals that were living with me were very disrespectful. They would talk to me horribly, lie on me, and spread rumors. I started losing weight and I was making myself sick. Since then I've noticed that every relationship that I have turns horribly wrong. I am now married with a child & I swore that I would never treat my child how I was treated. When I was working, right before I got married, my mom & I went searching for a limo for the wedding. We found a service and went to view the limo's not knowing that the personnel knew of my dad. One of the personnel says to me that my dad constantly talks about his daughter that graduated from college (my sister) and that he doesn't know what the other daughter is doing. I was so embarrassed that he would dare to go in the street and say that about me. He knew that I was working at the time. When my child was born, I told my mother that I will never understand how any person that calls themselves a man can ever do what he do what he did to me & feel comfortable playing with their grandchild knowing what they put that child's mom through. I watched my dad play with my son as if he were the best parent in the world & it sent shivers all over my body b/c I would have back-flashes of what he did to me. My mom confessed to me that my dad was made fun of & picked on by sibling & people in the street when he was young. When I was finally strong enough to sit down with him & stand up for myself, around 1 yr ago, he couldn't stay on topic & he was constantly stuttering. He claimed he didn't remember what I was talking about. With the incident of busting down the door attacking me he stated, "If I was punching you wouldn't I have left a mark?" My mother looked at him with disgust. He tried deflecting attention off of himself & claiming that I was having an attitude & being disrespectful toward him. He then jumped up to try to intimidate me & the conversation was over. Three months ago, my mother convinced my sister to address her issues with him & she wanted me to sit in. My sister confronted him for watching porn late at night in the living room while she was asleep on the couch less than 3 ft away from him. She rolled over and caught him watching that crap on 2 separate occasions & he tried changing the station quickly to avoid being caught. She then began talking to him about the abuse he did to me. He had no answers, no apologies, nothing. He also again couldn't stay on topic. Feeling confronted again he tried deflecting attention off of himself by lashes out at me for agreeing with my sister on several claims. My mom tried to calm him down and he told her to shut up & pushed her hand away. The conversation was done and I have never spoken to him since. Whenever I bring my child to see my mom, it is always at a time that I know he's at work. I keep my child away from him. To this day I still get panic attacks whenever he is around me or when someone out in the street is blatantly disrespectful toward me.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Gordon Part 1

by Gordon
(Calgary, Alberta, Canada)

Citizen: 
I was told that this would help me. Writing it all down. Im 36 years old now and im not sure why its on my mind now. I think i worry about my daughter and some of the abuse she is going through. Its not physical, but i fear for her mental well being. I think i have always been the protector of everyone i know and care about and now i am completely powerless for the first time to help. Today is march 10th 2010 and about a week ago i think i had a massive breakdown. Not just about my divorce and daughter, but also about my own upbringing. It finally came out and i shared some things with someone that i have never shared before. I feel horrible about sharing my story. Some people cant handle it and others dont want to hear it and i can understand. I dont want to deal with it either, but it is effecting my relationship with someone i care for very deeply. I always thought i was an idiot for my trust issues but i think it has alot to do with whats in my head. I know without a doubt she would never hurt me or hide things from me, but i have this urge to always make sure things are ok and to make sure im not missing something. I am resisting my urge to be nosy and so far i have been good at it.

See Part 2 below




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

I hope you'll follow me on:


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Child Abuse Story From Gordon Part 2

by Gordon
(Calgary, Alberta, Canada)

5 years old. My first memory of it. Got slapped in the face by my moms new boyfriend, right before school. I told, but i was not believed, and i got the belt for the first time and i was scared to death. I didnt even know who he was. Not a big deal i suppose but for the first time mom wasnt there to help. Granny used to give us the wooden spoon, but that was different. She was grandma and i loved her. For a couple of years or more, im not sure how long. Time wasnt real important at that age. The belt was something that became more and more used. Got it on the hands at first. Both of us. I have a twin brother. Then after a while i got it on the bare ass, then the back. Not sure why but most of his attention eventually turned to me. I was the runt and very quiet compared to my brother.

The next memory in that home was getting out of bed for water. I was told to drink from the toilette. I put my lips to the water, and then my mom came in and caught me. She was upset and didnt understand why i would do that. RAYMOND never said a word and i didnt tell either. I remember him laughing. Then one day instead of eating my dinner i had hid it away under the couch. A few days later it was found, moldy and crusty. I ate every piece. Took awhile. I dont know why i couldnt just say i didnt want it in the first place.

Next was getting takin from bed at a late hour too watch a movie with him. It was the movie Jaws. Next movie was what is known as a SNUFF movie. Lots of sex and i remember everything. The woman in it was brutalized and then killed afterwards. Never have forgotten it. I called him by his full name one day when he got home from work. He was livid. He choked me in the front room.

Then we moved to Fernie B.C. I do not remember going to school at all, there was so much going on there. Lots of booze. I had my finger nail torn off by him. Im pretty sure i remember him using a pair of scissors to do it. I had my finger wrapped in bandages after. We looked through porn magazines too. Was made to eat hot peppers. i would run and try and hide but he would chase. I ate one. I think my brother and i both had turns laying naked on the ironing board in the kitchen, im not sure. Face down and got beat with the belt. i cant remember either if my mom was there or not. I do remember my brother trying to run downstairs and ray hit him over the head with the belt buckle. My brother screamed and so did i. It got so bad that the neighbours next door came and took me to theyre condo and i hid in the basement. He wanted me back. The police showed up that night i think. So did my father, but he didnt take us away. theres alot more. All i remember about that place is it was the most horrific time ever, went through unimaginable pain there. Shortly after we moved back to calgary. i remember going to catholic school and getting into alot of trouble there, but i cant for the life of me remember anything about going home every afternoon. I just realized now that i cant remember.

My next memory is moving to a farm east of calgary, a place called Conrich. Thats when it started again, i think. Not sure if it stopped for awhile. I think it did. Grade 6. I got punched square in the face for not finishing my math homework. Took a black eye to school. No one asked why. My mom did see it happen. She said ray was sorry. Shortly after he had fed me beer and all kinds of other stuff, i had alcohol poisoning, and he took us fishing the next day. We sat in the sun and it was hot. thought i would die.

I rember him showing me how to masturbate. watching movies about it and other things. My room was in the basement and i was always waiting for the door to fly open, and it did often. He woke me early one morning, he said "get up before the sun burns a hole in your ass." i do remember that clearly. I was told to stand in one spot and dont move. Out of fear i stayed there all day until after dinner time. He told my mother that he never told me to do it. Keep it short now. Got shot repeatedly in the back with a 22 pellet gun outside, choked a bit, kicked in the nuts. Would throw the baeball at my head as hard as he could. i remember passing out in the yard. Eventually i ended up in the hospital. i was out in the field where we rode our bikes and one of my testicles became severed. I do remember him and my uncle drinking, and he had come out and there was a problem. He left me laying in the tall grass. I think i was out there for a couple of hours. Byron found me and drug me to the house, i couldnt walk at all. He put me on the couch and i layed there for some time. Finally i was takin to the doctor and he told my mom that i had a detached testicle and to take me right away to the hospital. The doctors were told it was from always trying to kickstart my bike. I told evryone at school and my family it was from a bike accident. Even find myself saying the same thing now. I dont know why. I think everyone knew but it wasnt talked about.

Bar of soap being cut into smaller pieces so they would fit in my rectum. Byron got it first. Ray told my mom he was doing it because byron was constipated. Not true, cause i got it later and i wasnt having a problem. Ray didnt work, so he would be home all day with me during the summer. The soap would stay until it eventually melted, it took awhile and it burned alot longer. Im sure there is more but it doesnt get much worse, i dont remember all of it. I used to sleep walk, i would have real bad dellusions and fevers. it happened all the time and no one knows why. Not sure if it was something i was ingesting or not but the doctor always wondered. Kinda makes sense now, i wonder. My brother was fearful when i had an eppisode. I went to his room one night and beat him and i dont remember. It may have just been a bad fever i dont know, but it happened alot. I could never remember anything the next day. Always stripped of my clothes though, because my fevers were so bad i guess.

We moved to another farm further east thats when i stopped talking to anyone all together, i didnt even associate with my brother. i spent the next three years in a makeshift bedroom in the basement. i read alot of books, drew a tonne of pictures. got really good at pencil work. i worked out with homemade weights. I started cutting myself. i dont know why. i would blood let all the time, punch things till all my knuckles were split. It made me better for a little while. I never had the guts to kill myself but i thought about it alot. I cried constantly, even in the middle of class at school. Anytime i was confronted by a teacher i would cy. i would get picked on for it. I stuttered a bit and mummbled and talked fast, was never sure what i could an couldnt say. My brother would stand up for me. He would lay a beating on people. it all carried on till I was 19. i thought it was normal and it didnt bother me, it made me tough. RAY would be worried i was going to get him while he was sleeping. I worked out for 5 years constantly, i was a massive kid. Thats when something changed, i started smoking, drinking alot and i got into fist fights constantly. Always standing up for people, in school, at the bar, anywhere i went. I protected everyone. 300 plus scraps later, stabbed over a dozen times, had guns put in my face. It was an outlet. It was wrong and i didnt know it for a long time. Thats not me anymore, im not violent i dont hurt myself anymore but i still get the feelings to harm myself or let someone else do it. Its childish i know. i grew up sorry and i have alot to apologize for. I am glad for the experience, i know how not to raise a child and i know the difference between being human and being a monster.

A child starts out as an empty vessel and as a parent it is your job to fill that vessel with what you want you can fill it with Hate, indifference, racism, Or with love and caring, empathy, tolerence. I know i didnt make me who i am and i dont blame myself anymore.

Thats the short form of my story or what i can remember anyway. I think im okay with it but i dont want to break down again like i did, Its embarassing and i dont want it to push away the people i care about.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

I hope you'll follow me on:


Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.

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Child Abuse Story From Richard Part 1

by Richard
(USA)

Over a decade of abuse and violence: 
Growing up as a child was tough. I lost my real mother at the age of 1. My mom was murdered - stabbed to death in her car while me and my sisters 1, 2 and 3 were at home with no parent around to care for us. As a result of the murder and public srutiny upon my Dad of whom was blamed for not being there, my sisters and I were kidnapped by my murdered mothers Family at the time...from what I can understand was for the Social Security benefits. I remember escaping with my older sister at the time. Our escape didn't stop the kidnapping relatives for they tried to lure us into their car on several occassions with candy when walking home from kindergarten class. We ran as fast as we could to get away. It was scary at times to go to and leave school.

My drunken father got re-married and I think I was about 3 years old.(BIG MISTAKE) Little did I know what to expect from this marriage. Heck, I had no idea at the time of what was going on anyway. I was just trying to be a 2-3 year old child at the time.

My Dad was a construction worker of whom worked hard to provide financial support, but that was about the end of it. He was a drunk. He wasn't a physical abuser, but he was certainly that of a verbal and psychological abuser in many ways. He would go to work and not come home until all of the children were in bed. Sometimes we got lucky to see him, but him being in a drunken state all the time wasn't very appealing, so it was better that he stayed away from home while we were all awake. It was a bad situation for with my Dad not being around, my step mom could get away with close to murder if she wanted to.



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Child Abuse Story From Richard Part 2

by Richard
(USA)

Onto the details of being abused by my step mom. Yes, I was the scapegoat of the Family. Having grown up with 2 blood sisters and 2 step sisters, there was quite a bit of favoritism in the Family weighed heavily to one side.

The abuse started at a very young age...probably around 3 years old. I had the energy of any 3 year old child and we lived in an apartment on a busy street. The claim was that I tried to get out of the apartment in order to try and cross this busy street, so my step mother decided to tie me down to a bed with belts and straps where I would lay for hours on end...crying to be released. I can picture this to this very day. Clear as a bell. After crying, I would fall asleep and wake to the same conditions. If I had to urine and had no diaper, I had to resort to defecating and urinating upon myself. If I did this, my step mom would beat me as a result.

After a few years, I started school. Man it was tough. All of the kids picked up on my lack of self esteem and depression and I was picked on quite a bit. I had no reason to defend myself for this was normal treatment to me. I had no idea as to why I was picked on. I guess going to school with facial bruises and split fat lips might have caused this type of attention?

During this age and up until I was about 12 years old, the beatings ensued. I was forced like a dog to eat food items such as meat fat and other distasteful items. If I didn't, the beating would ensue. I also recall the pencil treatment where the step mom would stick a sharpened pencil end between my back and the back of the chair in order to try and get me to sit up straight in a chair.

The most astounding and most memorable abuse that I had received was the regular lock ups. I was locked in my room for hours on end and sometimes beyond a day for doing something stupid...being a child. If I tried to escape or pounded on the door for too long, I was met by an enraged step mom of whom expressed herself through beating me to what she called a "bloody pulp!" When this type of beating occurred, it went on with her kneeling on both of my biceps so I couldn't escape and her striking me all over my head and face with a stainless steel soup ladle, belt, stick, hand and fist. Also, to add insult to injury, we owned a very large St. Bernard, Collie and German Shepherd mixed dog that weighed about 100 lbs.

The dog would try to get in the room as I screamed from being pinned down and beaten and tried to get away, but the weight of my step mom was too much. Once she had better control of me, the striking would occur and continue for some time until she got tired resulting in the opening of my bedroom door releasing this large dog onto me. If the dog bit me, I would respond with a swift kick to its face to prevent myself from being hurt. This action enraged the step mom resulting in another weight kneeling attack. The step mom while kneeling on me would beat the living shit out of me until bruised and sometimes bloodied while encouraging this large dog to attack me. I still have the foot scars to this day that are a constant reminder of the abuse that I endured as a child. Even thinking about it - I feel pain in both of my feet from each scar that I received.

The dog would shake my feet and legs like a rag doll and I eventually just gave up fighting because of the intense pain of being beaten and my feet ripped apart from this dog. I can remember limping very badly the next day as I tried to walk to school. I was so scared to look at my foot, but at the end of the first day after this fierce beating, I went home, closed my door and took my sock off only to view a hole in my foot that one could see straight through. I was scared to say anything to anyone for I was scared for my life as a 5 year old.

The next day, I went to school only to be confronted by the 1st grade teacher of whom asked me of the bruises, black eye, split and fat lips and the limp that I had and how I got them. I explained that I fell down a flight of stairs at home. She expressed to me that she had seen me with facial bruises before and was just a bit concerned. As a five year old, I was protecting what I had for parents for I didn't know any better and had the thought that it was all my fault anyway.

The dog related beatings continued for a few years along with quite a few lock ups. Sometimes the lockups prevented be from eating supper especially if my Dad wasn't home of which he rarely came home from supper and if he did, his children were always in his way. To this day, I can recall the marks left on the door from the hook lock. The marks were from constantly beating on the door to get out especially when I had to go to the bathroom. There were times that my cries were never answered and I had to urinate on the floor in my room. After urinating on the floor, I was so scared that the step mom would find out that I tried to cover up the mess as best I could, but my best wasn't good enough for my efforts to cover my urine tracks were met with the back of her hand or a punch to the face or even being thrown to the ground and forced to clean up on the mess. Christ! I was 5-6 years old!

There was another time and I cannot remember the age, but it was less than 10 years old where I got into a cupboard to eat some flavourful Flintstone vitamins in the middle of the night only to be discovered by my drunken old man. He scared me to death when he approached me and I spilled the contents of the vitamin package all over the floor as well as some flour. My punishment? My fingers were burned on the stove. I can recall the red hot coil glowing and heating up while my Dad waited patiently for the right time to place my fingers on the stove. I cried in agony for some time right after, but I was forced to be quiet or the consequences were to suffer more.

I had received regular beatings up and until the age of about 16 years old. I remember one of my blood sisters being beaten in front of me in the living room...I could tell she had enough, but my step mom kept on egging her on to allow the beating to continue until I stood up, grabbed her tightly by her throat and expressed that I will do something very harmful if she ever laid another finger on me or my sister ever again. I also remember stating that I would call the cops in the event that it ever happened again. As a result, she never touched me or my sister again.

There were many other incidents that occurred as well, but these were the most frightening and have been hard to deal with. I am an adult now and have 3 beautiful daughters and a wonderful wife of my own and I cannot even imagine hurting them or for the most part any child/person. My parents are still alive and live within the same state. I haven't had much contact with them over the last 20 years. I have stopped going to family functions with them being there for I cannot play the fake game anymore. Just as I have suffered all of these years and still do with bouts of depression and self esteem related issues, it must be time for them to suffer as well? I don't feel any anger towards them, just no desire to connect with them for no connection was really ever made during my childhood.

I have learned so much as what not to do while growing up. I don't even think my Dad ever knew what went on when I was home with the step mom for he was never home and I never told him. To this day, I am somewhat a self defeating individual because of being beaten and told so many times that I was an idiot, dumbass, c***sucker, bastard, SOB, loser, someone that will amount to nothing, m******ucker, you name it, I was called it from a very young age up to the time that I defended myself for the first time in my life. I stood up against that monster and to this day I stand on my own two feet after a childhood of misery.



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Child Abuse Story From Josh

by Josh
(Location Undisclosed)

Now as I speak and you listen,
I only ask you to pay attention,
For I do not say this for your pity,
Or your opinion where you feel so witty,
I only speak to say my thoughts,
about all the battles I have fought,
I am strong and I will make it,
This is my life and I do fake it.

The lines above are from one of the poems I wrote to explain how I kind of feel about my situation.

To start off I'd like to give a background of myself. I'm the kid who will go up and talk to anyone, no matter how popular one may be. I always walk around with a big smile on my face and can always make someone laugh. I am very active in sports, extra-curricular activities, have always been a hard worker in all aspects of my life. People don't really see me as a person who has a secret that no one knows about. One that is deep and very personal. So this is not very easy for me to share. Growing up as a teenager is tough enough. From school work to friends to sports. It all gets complicated, but it all got worse when I went home. I found myself trying to find any excuse not to go home all because of fear, fear of my father. Ever since I could remember my dad has not only abused me, but also my brothers and sister. He has a way of manipulating every situation so you are just a horrible person. You can never do anything correct, no matter how small it is, you always did it wrong. Not only did my dad abuse us mentally and emotionally, but also physically. I am going to mention one moment in particular that happened two months before I graduated high school. I came home from soccer practice and I was tired and worn out. Immediately I went and laid down on my couch and within minutes my dad came home from work. He saw me laying on the couch and within seconds his face changed from a smile to pure hatred. He immediately yelled, "Get off my f***ing couch with your damn ass sweaty body, its bad enough to have you in my life in general and now I have to live with the fact that your sweat is on my damn couch." Now as he yelled this he was not from a distance he was running towards me full force and I had immediatley jumped off the couch afraid of what would happen next. His right hand came hard and fast towards my jaw and he knocked me down. I immediately stood back up trying to show him that I wasn't a pansy or some dumb kid he could pick on anymore. But my dad saw it from a different point of view. He saw it as a 17 year-old kid who thinks is a bad ass and needs to be put back in his place. So he grabs my ear and pulls me into the kitchen and throws me on the ground. He then pulls of his belt and yells, "oh so you think your tough, lets see how tough you can be." He starts kicking me and slapping my head constantly and while he is doing this he is just yelling at me telling me how I'm such a horrible kid and how he is embarrassed to be my father. As tears begin to fall down my face he yells "ya your not so tough after all huh?" With those words I find the courage to stand back up and with another right hand he knocks me down and with his belt he whips me on my back yelling at me to stay down...Now I'm not a talented writer or a good story teller so I'm sure this may sound somewhat confusing, but I hope you get the general idea. Some of my close friends who know my father ask me why I don't hit him back or call the cops and it is simply just fear. I'm afraid of what will happen. What pain my life will go through. My dad is the main provider for my family, and even though its not easy to explain, he is still my father. So in my mind, it is out of the question. There are other stories I could share about myself and my family, so if anyone was to comment on this and ask for more and hopefully a better written one I would be happy to. I share this so people know what some kids have to go through and how you shouldn't be so quickly to judge someone. Like I said earlier, people would never guess I go through this with my personality and who I am.




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

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Child Abuse Story From Josh Part 2

by Josh
(Nebraska, USA)

I decided to write a second part, because Becky asked for another one. I hope you like it. To start off, I'm going to share some insights on some comments I had. Also some more background, I am 18 years old, male and I attended private school in Nebraska. I am currently in college, not living at home, but still feel the control of my father. About the comments, some say I should stand up and take action and some say I should stay quiet and let time pass. I don't know which one is correct.

Now to the people who believe I should get help. Do I really have the authority or right to make a decision that can alter my families life? I have two younger brothers, one is 16 and the other is 14. I also have an older sister who is 23. If I was to get help, what would happen to my family? We would probably get split up or have to move, which could effect money, school, friends, family, ect. In a way, isn't that selfish of myself to make such an act? I don't know how my brothers or sister feel or even my mother. My father is the main provider for my family and if he was to get arrested or have some sort of charges against him, I'm sure he would lose his job. What then? My brothers attend private schools. There is no way my mother could pay for it on her own, let alone support us. Also, my father may do things that are awful and have treated us in ways that no person should have to experience, but that doesn't define him as a person. Deep down I know he is a good guy. If he wasn't, why would I have so much trouble turning him in?" He acts so kind when everyone is around, but when the door is shut that man is nowhere to be found." Another part from one of my poems. Showing that he is a nice guy, just not to the family.

Staying quiet is how I have lived, but one can only take so much until they crack. My fear is when I do stand up, I will no longer have a family, for I will be shunned. Plus, do you want to live your life never standing up for yourself? How does that effect you as an individual? It can't be good in my opinion.

In my next story I'm going to share more of an emotional abuse...People say, "sticks and stones may brake your bones, but words may never hurt." It is completely false. Maybe at first you may be able block it out, but over time it effects you and it's not easy to deal with. All my life I have never been good enough. I have always tried to be the best, if it's sports, school, work, anything. Not to brag, but I have succeded in that quite well, except to my father. No matter how well I did, I should have done better. I wasn't worth anything to my father. He would talk about if only his son wasn't a failure. I'm just some spoiled brat who doesn't appreciate anything and doesn't know how to work hard. I'm just a lazy ass.

In state soccer, I started at forward. It was the semifinals and we lost 1-0. After the game, I walked up the bleachers and the only thing my dad said was, "Your only job is to score, but you couldn't do that. You failed and now your just a loser. You let your team down, and let me down." After that he took off a pin he was wearing. The pin was a picture of me in my uniform with my name and number. He handed it to me and says, "Here, I don't want to wear it, I'm embarassed for people to know I'm your father." After that he walked away.

Now I share this to show, you don't have to be violent to be abusive. Words like these really effect me, especially after hearing it since I was a little kid. I honestly feel like I'm mentally messed up. I don't feel like anything I do is good enough for anyone. I feel like I'm a kid swinging a bat over and over again, who continues to miss the ball. Just failing in life. Even now, I think if I'm a happy guy, and honestly, I'm not. I may smile and laugh and joke around with people, but deep down, I feel so sad, so alone. Will I ever be normal again? Will I ever be truly happy, inside and out? "The mystery is in the wind, as it floats away I do not grin. For I reach, I grab, I pray for the answer. But what am I reaching for? What am I praying for? The truth? The knowledge of my happiness? Why? For then I stop and realize, the wind is just air, and there is nothing there. For this is my life. The answer is inside. The fact is, I am sad and alone, nothing more, nothing less."




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

I hope you'll follow me on:


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Child Abuse Story From Josh Part 3

by Josh
(Nebraska, USA)

Josh's Poem-Fear: 
As I walk down the hall with my face so bright
Everyone comes up to me with such delight
I laugh, I joke, I play around
As the world just goes round and round
From a distance I seem so clear
But if you look closer, all you’ll truly see is fear
Fear that haunts my dreams
Fear that has scarred my memories
Late nights all alone
Listening to music for fear of my own
I sit,
I listen,
I pray,
I dream,
That one day I will wake up
And the memories will no longer be there
The painful memories of him
The man who haunts my dreams
The man who haunts my life
He acts so kind when everyone is around
But when the door is shut that man is no where to be found
How violent he can be
With the pain he inflicts only to me
What have I done to have this burden brought upon me
I do not know what it could be
Is it my looks?
My personality?
Or the fact that I can do nothing right
And he hates me with such despite
The harder I try the more I fail
It’s as if I’m constantly getting hit down like a nail
I now know I will never know why all of this is so
For it all lies within him and with that it begins
How long will this torture last
I do not know but hopefully it will stay in the past
The mystery is in the wind
As it floats away I do not grin
But my wish is bound to fail
For tomorrow night he will strike again like hail
Now as I speak and you listen
I only ask you to pay attention
For I do not say this for your pity
Or your opinion where you feel so witty
I only speak to say my thoughts
About all the battles I have fought
I am strong and I will make it
This is my life and I do not fake it
On the outside I seem so clear
But now you know my deepest fear




Darlene Barriere: author. speaker. survivor. coachNote from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

I hope you'll follow me on:


Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.

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