Child Abuse Story From EB

by EB
(Illinois, USA)

Being 16 is hard enough as it is, but when you add psychological or trust issues, it gets even worse.


When I was 5, I went to hangout at a friend's house. He was only a year older than me, and he lived right down the street. We'd been friends for years; he was like a "twin" brother almost. There was one day where he said he had horrible news... They were moving far away. He wanted to give me a "present". That present? He molested me. He took away my innocence and my trust. No, I don't hate him anymore, I pity him.

When I was 6, I started first grade. We had the best teacher! Everyday, we would all grab a carpet square and sit on the floor while she read us a story. I had a new best friend by now, and I thought she was funny! At recess, before story time, I fell and landed on my back. In class, she started rubbing my shoulders. Then her hands fell down lower and lower until they were in my pants. Later, I said I didn't want to be her friend anymore.. But that didn't stop her at story time. I was 6 years old! How could you! She threatened to have her dad (a carpenter) kill me and bury me in the basement concrete of the houses he built. When you're that age, things like that terrify you. I never told anyone, and no-one noticed. Not even the teacher I thought was amazing noticed, and this had been happening for weeks.

Last year, when I was 15, I was in an unhealthy relationship with a guy. He was only a year older than me. He took advantage of me. He knew that I'd been molested as a little girl, and he used that against me. Not only was he disgusting, but he was degrading. It's because of him that I started hating myself. Eventually, I started cutting. The first time, someone almost noticed, so I changed how I did it. Instead of straight lines across the wrist, I went to the back of my knee or made them look like cat scratches. Always cut deep enough for pain and blood, but tried not to leave obvious scars. It made me feel human.

A different thing that happened last year? I had to tuck my mom into bed. She was lonely, she was angry, she was drunk. We were at a local concert, and she was dancing with a guy. Turns out he was married. She had so many beers and a couple shots; I had to steal her keys out of her purse. I had to pick her up out of a garbage can when she fell. I had to call a family friend to come pick us up. I couldn't call my dad.. My parents are divorced, and she'd lose the little custody time she receives. When the friend finally came and got us home, I had to help her. She was like a full-sized toddler. Getting her a glass of water, helping her into her pjs, making sure she makes it onto the bed. By the time she was asleep, I had multiple bruises from where she fell and took me down too. Cuts from where her nails broke skin on my shoulders or sides. A girl shouldn't have to tuck her mother into bed.

I've cried myself to sleep for 10 years now. I'm crying as I write my story now. Some days are worse than others. Whenever I'm alone, all I do is think. There's only one close friend in my life, and she doesn't know the full story. It would just weigh people down to the point of depression or they leave. That's what they've always done when they learn.

Today, my family still doesn't know the story. They're amazing, but they wouldn't understand. The 'genius' brother would think I'm fibbing to get attention; my dad would do the same. He'd be disappointed in me. It wasn't my fault.

It's near impossible to trust people. Everyday is a struggle. I've actually learned things from these things though.. They've made me who I am. Yes, I'm incredibly stubborn, but I know who I am. It's made me grow up fast, but at least I know what to expect when I'm older, right?

The physical pain is gone, the cutting's ended. The psychological pain will always be there.. But it reminds me that I'm human, and there are people who have it much worse than I do. To those people, know someone loves you and has felt how you feel. I never really told anyone my story and I regret it. I'll regret it until I die.




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Child Abuse Poem From Chelsea

by Chelsea
(New Zealand)

If you believe your parents taught you right from wrong by showing you what's right,
Then with all the wrong displayed by mine, they taught me their's was greater might.
Alas who judges their values to be but hand me downs of their parents.
Are you so brave to dare to grow while I have only dare'nt's.
When mirroring serves just to small, out you stretch to brace your fall
to meet the world as whole and new, not long to question the whole of who.
Consumed with your en-rounded roll, is such a trolling role as you.

Fragments and void, alone in stillness.
I grow not but dull and listless.
Paralysed up to the eyes,
stagnant beheast her own demise.
Eyes wide, I pull inside.
Right to the edges of reality, surveying dust upward to skies
To be measured against paradise.
The rounded shape is thus outlined
and my true whole self, inversely defined.

My gaze will not be knocked off course,
by any known coercion nor force.
Methodical it seeks till found, the eye compressed is flipped around.
hidden inside
unlabeled, mis-filed
Is this all?
I tremble, a child.
Insulated by fear and doubt
refusing to come out.




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 Walter

by Walter
(Ohio, USA)

It was back in 1948 to 1951 my mother and father used to go out almost every week end and drink and dance. When they did they always used this 17 year old boy to sit me a boy of 8 and my little sister 2 years old when this started. The minute my mother and father left the very first time he sat us, he made sure my baby sister was asleep and took me into my parents bedroom he told me to take off my shorts and t-shirt and get naked. I did and then he gave me one of my mothers pretty night dresses and said put this on. Well i did and he said we were going to play house and i was to get in my parents bed and he would pretend he just came home from work and i was his wife. he left the bedroom and then came back in and took off all he had on he got in the bed and said hi honey have you missed me have you been longing for what i have between my legs. Well i did not no what he was talking about so he said just say yes, and i did. then he started playing with me between my legs and then he was french kissing me soon he pushed me down between his legs and told me what he wanted me to do. I said no and he said ok i will go do this to your sister i said i was going to tell my mother and father he then got out of bed and went into his pants pocket and showed me a knife when he pushed a button on it it was very large. He said he would get my mother alone and hurt her bad and then he would hurt my sister. So i did what he wanted me to do. He pushed himself inside me it hurt and i cried he said don’t worry it will get better and sometimes i will have you do this to me he did this to me for almost 3 years and i am now 73 years old was married to a wonderful woman for 46 year till she passed away in 08. We had 3 boys and a girl we lost 1 boy at 6 months old to sids and until 6 months ago when i found my sister after 27 years i told her about it and she just could not beleave i have went so long keeping this in. but when i saw your site i thought maybe i can help someone from this happening to there child.




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Child Abuse Story From April

by April
(Florida, USA)


Child Abuse by Both Parents:
I just wanted to share my story to those who would listen. It all started from when I was very young but I don't know what age. My own father sexually abused me and that made me interested in sex at such a young age. All I know is when my mom was gone something sexual had happen but I still can't remember what it was until I turned 5.

Almost every day like clock work when my mom would go off to gamble my dad would carry me or ask me to go in the room and he would touch me in my private parts. I thought that's how a father and daughter would show love. It felt wrong but I wasn't sure it was wrong until I got a little older. I would watch commercials and tv shows about children being abused in different ways.

I was afraid to talk about for a long time. I wanted to tell my mom what happen but my mom had a gambling problem and she would abuse me verbally and physically when she was home. I prayed all the time that God would take my life or let me get kidnapped or killed in some sort of way. This way of thinking started at age 7.

The reason why I didn't tell my mom was because I was scared of her. Every single day she told me how fat, ugly, stupid I was. She called me a w***e. She would tell me that I was too ugly to be her child and that all I would amount to was spreading my legs to men. I was a bit overweight and I had a low self esteem issue. The only love I guess I was getting was from my dad but it was not the correct type of love. As I started to develop my father would make weird sexual comments to me all the time and try to touch me in public. I felt the lowest of the low! It was crazy how when my dad would leave for work, my mom would leave the house to go gamble until all the times of the night. When she would loose her money, she would come home and yell at me, hit me with shoes, whips, throw knives at me. Kick me in my face and head and pull my hair until I couldn't breathe. She would always tell her friends that I was a loser and she was so embarrassed to have me as her daughter. I felt so empty inside, I felt like I had nothing or no one.

I cried every single night in silence until I fell asleep. If I told my mom someone had hurt me, she would say well you must have deserved it. I just shut everyone out of my life. I was great a pretending I was ok. I like to joke around so that was my cover up. If something or someone hurt me I would go hide and cry so no one could see me. I almost got raped once by my parents friend son who was 13 and I was 10. I was able to escape out of the room just in time and when I told my mom she beat me so bad.

That taught me not to say too much to her.

After I turned 12, I couldn't take anymore sexual abuse from my dad. I finally summed up the courage to tell my mom. She started crying and I thought she really cared and she told me that she was leaving my dad. He got home from work and she asked him if he sexually abused me.

His face turned so yellow. He was pissed off and told my mom that I was a liar. He didn't talk to me for a week and I could have cared less. As long as he was not touching me I was ok with it. Then my mom asked me right in front of him about it. I was so terrified of her and him, my mom looked at me and told me, tell me your lying, tell me that your lying.

I started to tear up so I told her I was lying and that I made it all up. My dad was so happy and so was my mom. I can honestly say the sexual abuse stopped. I think my dad was scared after that because if I could tell my mom then I would tell others.

I was sent away for a year to live with my grandma and that was the happiest year of my childhood. My mom came down to get me after the year and I was happy to see her, I ran up to hug her and she pushed me away. I knew at that moment the abuse would start again.

I also think the reason why my mom abused me more because of the sexual abuse from my dad. She was mad at me and blamed me and not him.

When I moved back home the verbal, mental and physical abuse got worse. I lost a little bit of weight but I was still big for my age. I started eating more and more because I didn't want to be home.

I started getting into stealing, lying and ditching school. I could care less about school or about what my parents wanted from me.

I used to fantasize about running away and becoming a hooker. I thought that was all I deserved as a person. Since I didn't have beauty or brains I didn't have anything.

I never got into drugs or drinking but I did become sexually active at around 18 and was careless with who I slept with. I think a part of me wanted the worst for myself.

I remember one time a teacher made us write down what we wanted to be and I wrote down "hooker". She began to cry and I looked at her like she was crazy. Why is this lady crying for me? She told me that I could be whatever I put my mind to and she checked on me every once in a while. I would just put on a smiley face and pretend I am all better now.

As I got older the verbal and physical abuse got worse with bigger whips, choking, cutting hair, and slapping. Any chance she got to hit me she would do it in a heart beat.

My mom would laugh at me when other kids made fun of me, and she would tell me I deserve the torment because I was an ugly child.

I never felt safe inside my heart, I would feel this emptiness and coldness every time I open my eyes in the morning.

Since my mom never left my dad, I was stuck in this world of pretending life is ok. I felt like she picked him over me. Moms are suppose to take care of you, encourage you and be there for you. I did not have that bond with my mom.

A father is supposed to protect you, guide you and love you. I never felt that with my father. He broke my heart and the bond a father and child should have.

I just wanted to share my story with those who care to read. I apologize for writing such a long story. I am a lot older now and the effects of abuse still has a toll on my mental state. I do recognize it and I hope to become a better person from it. Thank you!




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Child Abuse Story From Anonymous Ones

by Anonymous One(s)
(Location Undisclosed)

I have dissociative disorder and so I don't always believe that my story is true. But, I'm thinking it might be good to try to share some of it anyway.

The story seems to begin with my father molesting me as a very young child. It was inappropriate, selfish, confusing and hurtful to a young child. He was doing what he did for personal satisfaction. - But I still think he loved me and he stopped at some point. Worse than the actual molestation may be that he set me up for future abuse that happened. I learned not to tell and that adults could do what they wanted to a child, that my body was not mine.

So - at some point like 3 or 4 years old I got involved with some really awful man who sexually abused me and other children. He began with being "nice", playing "show and tell and touch" and giving candy. As things progressed he did worse things, and made me do things to him. He poked and touched and worse - can't say so much... He took pictures of me and others and he made me be with other men. He did bad and disgusting things and he made/makes me feel bad and disgusting. My parents never knew - I think I was threatened and somehow I was able to hide what was going on.

We(dissociative disorder)have been in therapy for years - We have worked hard in therapy and have a good life, even though the memories still intrude way too much. We are hoping that we are coming to the end of all the new memories and can soon put them in perspective and finally behind us. We are grateful to be able to write this much here. At some point we may share more of our story.




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Child Abuse Story From Angela

by Angela
(Hawaii, USA)

Around the age of 5, my father worked late nights while my mother watched my baby brother, half siblings and I. My half brother who then was in his teenage years lured me into his room and told me he would read me a book if I gave him a massage. I didn't understand what he meant when he closed the doors and pulled down his pants. He laid down touching himself and told me to massage it for him. I was confused because a massage to me was done on someones back, but he kept telling me it was okay. Then he told me to suck it like a lollipop, and so I did. He started yelling at me to stop and pushed off and liquid came out. He cleaned himself up and read me a book as promised. He looked me in the eyes and told me to never tell anyone.
My half brother has done this to me many times. I remember a time when he got on top of me. He held me down and told me to be quiet. I cried and he told me to shut up and keep still. I shut my eyes and waited til it was over. I can still remember the sounds he made, the way he thrust and the uncomfortable feeling as I just laid there.
When I finally had the courage to stop him, I turned my back towards him trying to pull my pants up, he ripped them down and flipped me over I cried and my mother ran to the door and somehow got it to open. I remember he got up quickly and I pulled my pants up and jumped off the bed and ran out the door.
I can faintly remember seeing the doctors, they took some samples, and looked to see what damages were caused.

My parents got divorced when I was 5-6?

I didn't seem to understand what happened until I reached the age when school started teaching about sex ed. I started to feel disgusted about myself, ashamed and disconnected from my childhood.
My family never mentioned it so I continued to pretend that I have forgotten.
The teachers thought I had ADD, I was put in special ed until 9th grade.
I started telling friends and counselors about my past and it made me feel better.
Through out my life I have had older men hit on me, grab my butt, teachers and coaches hit on me. I notice those kind of things quickly and I stand up for myself letting them know that if they continue to behave that way I will tell authorities.
I had a security guard removed from my high school for slapping my butt.
A teacher resigned from his job because I threatened to tell the police.

Because I was raped at a young age I was able to recognized the behaviors of pedophiles, child molesters, and anyone who just wanted sexual favors.

I got married straight out of high school, this guy fooled me. I thought I was safe with him until he revealed his real self. After I got pregnant, he started watching porn sites such involving children.
He started getting aggressive in bed and wanted to invite other people to join our sex life.
He volunteered to be a coach for PAL (teenaged girls) volleyball team. They told me how uncomfortable they were around him and asked me to tell him to stop.

I left him but we are in a custody battle for our son. Although I can recognize his behavior he is very discrete about it to others and not even the custody evaluator could see it. In fact, she is leaning towards his side. Although i spoke to her about his behavior from the past and recent emails he has been sending to minors asking them "would you give this old guy a chance." The custody evaluator did not seem to care and basically slapped him on his wrist and congratulated him for interacting with our son very well.
Sick world we live in.

Anyway, as far as I know and others know, I only have flashbacks about getting raped when I see it on tv.
I cry about it when talking to someone with some kind of authority to tell me how to deal with it. Other than that, I am truly fine. I can go day by day without it on my mind. I can walk past my half brother and not cringe. I'm healthy physically and emotionally. My father taught me to stay strong and fight those emotions and move forward and not blame my past for whats happening today but use my past to have a better tomorrow.




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Child Abuse Story From IP Part 1

by IP
(Thailand)

I’ll tell you one thing. I’m no pure angel. I come from hell. I’ve experienced hell. I’ve already been tainted, and there’s no going back. I’m a sad siren, a whimsical banshee. My songs are of pain, and terror. I scream remorse, and torture.

Molested at eight years old, unknowing that it wasn’t right, but how was I suppose to know.
He came into my room one night, told me to hush quietly, and I shivered in disgust, slowly drifted off, tears streaming down my face….
Maman found out, pain across her face, comforting me. I didn’t understand though, wasn’t it just a dream? Him looking ashamed, but still denying. Denying he did anything wrong. That devil.
He disappeared for weeks, and I was happy. Then, he came back, and I felt scared. I didn’t know why, but I knew he was dangerous, unsafe.
We moved, a foreign place, forgotten events. He deployed, and again a blissful feeling over the whole house. I was happy, joyful, full of life, for now.

He came back, with eyes full of…. A predator. One that’s seen death. And the torture began again, slowly and steady. I was Eleven.

We moved, to the Philippines. It didn’t get any better. I was starting to become reclusive, rebellious, and all the while maman never knew why, why I started to develop hate for him. I had just turned twelve when it all got worst. It was the first time where he attempted to rape me.
By this time, I had become the bad seed at home, but the happy girl at school. School was my haven for me; I could get away from everything. Then, I became broken, which called for immediate surgery. HE had to escort me to the distant place, Hawaii. And that’s where everything went to hell.

We stayed at his mother’s house. He told her about how I never appreciated him, and everyone looked down on me. I was alone, and I felt unloved. Then, at night, the first night, I experienced hell. No one heard my screams. No one heard my cries. He cooed in my ear. I shriveled in fear. He said we were meant to be together. He softly kissed me. I was repulsed, violated, alone, hurt, suicidal. He pulled me closely, touched and kissed places I didn’t want him to. He tried, to rape me. I fought my hardest. He became angry, and pushed me. Then he was confused, then he smiled, he was mad. I stayed up the whole night, in his arms, sobbing.

After surgery, he didn’t touch me much, but still kept in close in contact. For those moments I had wished I was in the hospital for the rest of my life, safe from the boogeyman who taunted my dreams. My mother called. She had a premonition, that’s what I thought at least. She was frantic. She dreamed of me, dead, laying in a pool of my own blood, with B--- close by. I might as well been that. I couldn’t tell her the truth, not while he was around. I could never tell her the truth, for the safety and security of everyone.
We went back to the Philippines, everyone knew I had changed. Bad grades. Boyfriends against my mother’s wishes. I yelled and fought with her. I shunned B---, who got mad and yanked me to him a couple of times. I tried to kill myself. Cutting, overdosing, hanging. No one knew, and it never worked. I guess God just wanted to see me suffer.
I never told, and he always came into my room. Kissing me, touching me, almost raping me. I never peeped one word. Why? How could i. I had a brother and sister who loved their father very much. I knew what it was like to grow up without a father, my real father left when I was young. How could I be so selfish and rip that from them? It horrified me at the thought of my siblings being depressed, and insecure. I couldn’t, wouldn’t ever do that, to my last breath. I betrayed that promise I made to myself though, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Maman was going to Thailand often, leaving me alone with him, and things got so out of hand that I literally locked my doors while he banged on them; I had taken the keys to my room. My siblings thought I was going through a phase, let them think that. I was contemplating on either running away, or killing myself. No one would care; I’m the bad seed of the family.

Maman came back, and saw how broken the family was. They both, maman and him, were threatening to send me to Taiwan, with my real father. I wanted to, but the idea of my torture being passed on to my sister terrified me so much that I begged them to let me stay. Maman was so skeptical on why I hated him so much, she came to my school, sat me down, and talked with me. I betrayed my family, I told her everything.
Things went down from there. Maman and him fought 24/7, my sister started to get bad grades, my brother was crying and getting into fights at school. What had I done?

I had a boyfriend, someone I cared for, and I had many friends, some were guys. He didn’t like that, and convinced my mother that I was a s**t. She had decided to stay with him for my siblings, and she believed him. I was sent away to a country in the city, my exile for my crimes.
I had a hard time at first. I attempted to kill myself on several occasions, and went to the hospital for malaria, liver damage, and extreme fatigue and depression. He still harassed me over the phone, find any means possible to contact me. I was in another country, and I had had it with life, with him, I was never going to get away from him, my grim reaper.

I realized, a moment of euphoria, that I didn’t have it as bad as other people living around me, it was selfish for me to live in self-reclusion and pity myself. I turned over a new leaf. I excelled in my studies, participated with my family members, and tried to enjoy life as much as possible. He still kept calling, kept stabbing at me. My aunts noticed, and they didn’t understand why I had disliked talking to him, why I cried and sobbed alone everytime he was on the phone with me. They knew it wasn’t healthy for me, and eventually, terrified that I might become suicidal again, unplugged all the phones in the house, and deleted everything about him. I was so grateful. Then they made me tell them the truth. And I did. Mistake number two.

NOTE:See Part 2 for remainder of 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.

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 IP Part 2

by IP
(Thailand)

Note: Continued from Part 1 on this site: 
FBI got involved, and my mother traveled all the way from the Philippines, screaming and yelling at me about how horrible of a child I was and how disappointed she was in me. I was disgusting; I should be ashamed of myself. And I believed her. I began to hate myself again.

I went to the river, bicycling slowly. I sat by the lake, thinking about my last moments. This wasn’t how it was suppose to be. My moving to Thailand was supposed to fix everything, not make things worse. My life was literally irrelevant in my eyes, and I was a burden to my family. I was about to jump, taking my last breath, when I heard an extremely loud wail. Across the river, a girl, about 20, was wailing and screaming about how horrible her life was that she was going to kill herself. Great, I have a suicide buddy now. But I couldn’t let her do that. So I rushed to the other side of the river, and sat with her. She talked with me, about her young pregnancy, how her mother and father beat her, how she was living with her brother and raising her child, how she worried for her child’s future. I looked at her, a mother, a human being, and I didn’t want her to do that. I encouraged her that life was worth living, even though all the things I told her I wouldn’t believe myself, and she believed me. I escorted her out of the park, and felt good. I had saved her, me. I found my purpose in life.

I moved to the States, and forever sawed the chain that bound me to the monster. Maman gained her senses, apologized to me, and didn’t let me talk to him again. I was extremely happy. I was at the top of my class, I had wonderful cousins and aunts to spend time with, and good friends. I was really happy. Maman and I also patched our relationship together, and became close, but in a way still not as close as we used to be. I had trouble with great aunts in the states, them wanting to make me their personal slave, so my mother thought it was in my best interest to move back with her, to Thailand, to be a family again.
We’ve been through many hardships since, I’ve gone through verbal abuse from my mother, but I know she means well. I’m absolutely sure my brother hates me now, and HE is trying to rip my mother apart from me, as revenge. That a**hole. And the nightmare is repeating itself again. I regret what I did; I wish I could take it all back, for everyone’s happiness. Or maybe I just should’ve jumped that river, make things better.
Life has never made it easy for me. All I have are nightmares now; I rarely have any good dreams. I find myself cringe at any forms of sexual abuse in movies, to the point where I have to cover my face so that no one sees the pain and tears in my eyes. I become unnecessarily violent and offended when people joke about topics of sexual abuse. I shake and glare whenever I see a picture of HIM, or anyone who looks remotely like him. It’s been years since I’ve talked to him, yet it still seems he’s haunting me. Anytime someone mentions him, I tell them like it is. I don’t like him. They ask why, I say we don’t get along, and it ends at that. They probably think I’m a bad daughter. When people ask my opinion on Hawaii, I say that I don’t care for it too much. Probably because that’s where the real hell started for me. I don’t forgive easily, and because I’ve never forgiven him, inside I’m extremely bitter. Many religions say I’m going to hell for not forgiving, but I don’t care anymore. I know what it’s like, not much different. That’s why I’m not a pure angel, more like a fallen one. Or maybe I’m not an angel, maybe, inside, I have a soul so bitter and dark that hell has reserved a special spot for me and is waiting.




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 Jrena

by Jrena
(British Columbia, Canada)

That Catalyst: 
There were days when my father was very unhappy and they usually culminated in bringing out of the brown paper shopping bag full of bills my father had to write cheques to pay for. This was a very bleak day for my father.

If my father was down, this foreshadowed bad things. I just want to make him laugh and smile. Tension was rising attracting attention to yourself when you're the family scapegoat is never prudent. I might as well have painted a huge target on myself, but I was a little girl who wanted to make her father feel better.

If bill paying day coincided with a day when my brother was instigating and my father arrived home to my mother in a tizzy about me, usually mother referred to me as 'that little b***h!' My friend's parents called their daughter tiger, not 'that little b***h'. As a little girl that made me very sad.

Anything could trigger one of Father's rages. His workshop was very untidy. Father was always misplacing tools and buying new ones to replace them and quite often he accused me of having thrown them out.

Dinner time was one of mother and father's favorite places to focus in on me. My brother sat at in corner of the nook between them with stealthy access to a cooper kettle or the crevice of the nook in which cunningly hid vegetables he didn't like. I sat on the outside of the table with both parents glowering at me.

"Don't click your teeth on your fork!" "Don't clink your spoon in your cup when you stir!" "Take smaller bites!" "That isn't how you hold your fork, your spoon, or how you cut meat!' My brother would joyfully chew with his mouth open, stick out his food covered tongue and mock me as both of my parents were oblivious to him. He'd happily click his teeth on his utensils and madly clink his spoon in his cup and...his favorite which was blowing bubbles through a straw which I was forbidden to do.

It was like eating dinner with two rabid wolves, vying to see who got to tear you apart first. My mother wasn't the greatest cook back in those days, mushy carrots and almost cold, chunky mashed potatoes were mother's specialty. I copied my little brother and tried to wash them down with milk or water which annoyed my parents.

All it took at these meals was one click. Father's gimlet eyes would bug out even more and he'd want to kill me. I couldn't breath without annoying my parents.

All it took was the least provocation. One wrong clink, clank, chew, swallow and father set upon me like a mad dog. He'd shout at me: "You do that on purpose, don't you?" Then he'd do what he trained my brother to do, he'd cruelly mock me adding malicious interpretations to whatever wrong I was perceived as doing.

I'd curl up in a ball in the corner of the kitchen trying to protect myself, crying and begging to be left alone. Father would seize me by the hair and wrench me up in the air, then grab whatever limb he could and savagely twist it. Arm or leg, it didn't matter. Sometimes he would do grab my form arm and twist the skin. I was terrified and hurting. He'd kick me in the stomach, kick me wherever and bang my head.

I'd wriggle free and race to my room sobbing, brace self against the door and prepare for the onslaught as he tried to break down my door to finish his attack. Father was so out of control I was certain he was going to kill me.

My bedroom door was cracked and splintered from these onslaughts. Mother never tried to help me and my brother went happily to his room, he'd been raised to dislike me since he was an infant and he pleased our parents greatly by learning well.




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 J

by J
(Canada)

Abused Well Into Adulthood: 
Most of the abuse that I have suffered was psychological. From when I was a child to my adulthood, my parents are always bullying me about one thing or another. However, it is was apperance that my parents bullies me about the most. I'm 25 years old and my parents are still telling me what to wear! I can't even step outside of the house without wearing a button up shirt and dress pants. Every time my hair grows out or I grows a bit of facial hair, my parents would bullying to get shave and a haircut. They would belittle me, and they would threaten to kick me out of the house. Sometimes, my parents would even threaten bodily harm, just because I look a certain way. Of course, my parents would usually get their way by telling me to act my age.

One of my earliest memories was when I was in grade six, my mother was helping me with my math homework.
"What's that?" Mom asked as she pointed to one of math equations. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

I have no idea why my mother would yell at me like that. This may not seem like a big deal for most people. But I was only a child. For a parent to suddenly yell at a child for no apparent reason isn't a nice feeling to have.

In high school, I was bullied both at home and in school. Actually, my parents were much worse. In fact, I remember at least one time, my Dad threatened to murder me. I don't remember what provoked him to threaten me, but I do remember the threat.
"I'll kill you!" Dad screamed as shook his fist to me, "I'll KILL YOU!"

I could have called the police, but I knew that would it would be futile. If the police came to the house, it would be my word against my parents. Since it would be two against one, the police wouldn't be able to do much.
I`ve suffered through so much bullying at home and at school, that at the age of sixteen, I attempted suicide, by overdosing on pain killers. But all that did was it made me ill. I've tried talking to my friends about the abuse, but they all thought that I was exaggerating. It wasn't until some of my friends saw the abuse first-hand that they realized that I wasn't exaggerating.

Forward to the year 2009, I finally moved out of my parents house. But unfortunately, the bullying from my parents didn't stop. I remember this one time, my father once again threatened to murder me, because I wouldn't get a shave. Just like the last time my Dad threatened me, it was pointless to call the police. I could have ignored my parents and kick them out of my life, but I was still reliant on my parents. While I was living in my apartment, I was working a part-time, minimum wage job. Because of this, I often relied on my parents for food and transportation. I tried my best to look for a second job, but to no avail. As of April 2012, I could no longer afford my apartment, so I had no choice but to move back in with my parents.

Here I am, at the age of 25 years old, living with my parents. I'm going back to school to studying cooking. Even though I'm being funded to go back to school, my parents threatened that I won't be returing to school if I don't get a haircut. So basically, since I moved back in with my parents, nothing have change between us.
I'm trying to save up so I can move out, but our economy sucks.




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Child Abuse Story From Anonymous78

by Anonynous
(Connecticut, USA)

Growing up in a one bedroom apartment, sharing one bed, with my mom, dad, and younger sister was some of the hardest days of my life. My father was a very domineering man. I am terrified of him. He'd make my mom work all day and take all her money when she got home. He was verbally and emotionally abusive to my mother and me. He always threatened to kill us whenever he was angry. I remember being 6 and crying all the time in corners, praying for God to help us escape. I always dreamed of killing myself by jumping out of the bathroom window. (We lived on the top floor of an apartment building) Life was unbearable. I never thought it would get worse. My dad was even more abusive to my younger sister for some reason because he would physically abuse her from a young age. My dad turned me against my sister since we were young. He'd tell me how she was dumb and ugly, my mom only loved her, and how my mom didn't care about me. Only he cared. He'd make up funny names for punishments for my sister. Being young, I'd laugh at times whenever he threatened her with them and I'd tease her and torment her. It continued like this for years.
For as long as I can remember, my family shared one bed. My dad always made me sleep next to him and hug his back while my sister slept next to me with my mom. Sometimes she slept on he floor. I thought it was kind of weird because I always had to hug his back. If I let go, or tried to turn over, I would get in trouble. When I was in the 5th grade, my mom lost her job. Things got hard financially so, she took all kinds of various jobs to provide for us. It was during this time in the 5th grade, my father's hand began to wander while I slept. I remember feeling his hand rubbing my privates while I slept. I was so shocked and scared that I pretended to be asleep. When he tried to insert his finger, I rolled over as if I were still sleeping. He stopped. He continued like this for many nights. One Saturday morning, I slept late and my dad stayed in bed with me. He rolled over on top of me and told me he was gonna start teaching me about sex. According to him, this was something all dads taught their daughters. I knew it was wrong. He would touch me and dry hump me and force me to feel his erection. It makes me shudder to think of it. He even forced me to kiss him. I came to hate being home on the weekends because I knew what would take place. He would always roll over on top of me. He would tell me how he know I wanted it. He could feel how hot my privates were when I was sleeping. It always happened when my mom wasn't home. I never told her because I was scared he would kill all of us. He began to get more weird..
when I was 12 things got worse. One night he beat my mom for going outside. She ran away the next day. We were left alone with him because he wouldn't allow our mother contact with us. With me all to his self, he passed a rule in the house that my sister and I weren't allowed to use towels anymore. He'd force my sister and I to walk out the bathroom completely naked while he sat on the couch and watched us. He treated us like his wife, slaved me around, and verbally abused me all day. At night, he'd molest me. I cried so much. Eventually I got depressed, lost all my confidence, and got fat. At home, he'd call me fat and make me sit on the toilet while he inspected my private area and called me a w***e. He wouldn't let me have friends. One night things got super scary because he actually tried to penetrate me when I was 12. I was so scared! I pleaded with him to stop. He asked why. I lied and told him that the doctor checks us when we go so he would go to jail. That made him stop for awhile. He then began to molest at night and make me promise to have sex with him as soon as I turned 18. I said yes. I was weeping within my soul. I wondered why God let things like this happen to me.
Eventually my mom convinced me to run away with her. I got brave and ran with my sister after school one day. Life has been good since then. While my mom was oblivious because she was busy working, I thank her for her bravery in leaving my dad and coming back for us. When I was 16, I finally told my mom about the sexual abuse. She was devastated and angry. She asked my sister about it. I found out that my dad had abused my younger sister as well since she was 5. All the funny named punishments I teased my sister about were actually sexual acts. His acts on her were more depraved as they were done out of hatred. He hated my sister. He actually tried to kill her a few times that I was unaware of. I feel so guilty all the time about the things my sister went through because I egged it on. I was too scared to speak up. While I turned out okay, my sister didn't. She has memory and speech issues. Even though she is beautiful, she's depressed and feels worthless no matter what. I want to help her but I don't know how. Now I have a mistrust of men around children. Especially dads. I'm scared to let my husband hug the kids too long or touch them. I'm paranoid.




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Child Abuse Story From Bambee

by Bambee
(Location Undisclosed)

So happy I found this site. When I was 5 I was sexually abused by 2 guys, one was by my parents' friend who kept showing me photos of persons having sex and he would do this repeatedly until he started combining them with sounds of persons having sex as well as seeking me out when I went to my room. THe other time was when my 11 yr old neighbour raped me after my father left the house and my brother was in the other room. I thought I was imagining things until I turn 17 and I became increasing uncomfortable around boys and worse when they touch me. I don't know if I should tell someone or keep it to myself. I don't know if I can have a normal relationship with a guy.




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My goal is to inspire you, challenge your thoughts, and break open your heart. Your Self already knows you're remarkable and that the world needs you, more now than ever. It's time you know it and believe it too.
Healing the Body, Mind and Spirit








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Child Abuse Story From Deitra

by Deitra
(New York, USA)

Im a grown woman now i have no memory of my childhood since the age of 11yrs old i just had anal sex for the first time as a adult. Now i see me as a little girl laying in a bed sleep and somebody grab my mouth and take me down stairs to another bed two people on my side look like my older cousins its dark i c heads moving they lick me and doing wat they want to me things coming little by little my older cousin is a rev today in church i remember him touching on me i dont like when kids sleep with adults could b related things run in my head i cry for them i dont like when adults pick up kids mainly the kids that dont kw how to talk i feel like my cousins kw wat they did should i ask them or was it just a child get over thing i hurt today i cry alot i need it out wanna find out y and how come im i to old my abuse story is still going on dont kw much more but as days go by i feel like there r secrets y i dont remember my young days




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Child Abuse Story From Arvoni

by Arvoni
(Nebraska, USA)

Everything: 
i can remember everything that happened to me from the rape at 3 to just last week getting sexually abused by a guy when i was walking down the street its happened so many times i start to feel nothing at all no pain no hope just a deep dark hole i was abuse from the time i was well since i was born i never got a break guys running in and out of the house never knowing what might happened im still scared for my life. at 6 i went into foster care and never had any to really care for me my family blamed me for putting us in the foster care system when i didnt have a choice one of us would have died living in that house with my mom and those men because she wouldnt have stop.ill tell you guys the rest when i can i just want yall to know that ive been through it and im willing to help and im still going through it OUR STORIES NEED TO BE HEARD WE CAN MAKE SOMETHING OF OUR SELVES AND CHANGE OTHERS LIVES.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed150

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I dont know how to say this: 
I find it hard to tell my story coz its still happening. but my mum belts me. You think belting would be kinda like whipping but my mum just...well she uses the phrase " hit me with your best shot" very well. It still happens and now I cut myself. I normally groove deep scars into my arms and legs with scissors. I write poems and make up characters that are like me. PLEASE LET ME BE ANONYMOUS! also if you want, heres one of my poems.

UN_NOTICED
You see the smile on my face
That use of muscles is a waste
I could use that for crying
Because I feel like I'm dying

Why can't you see the hurt in her eyes
See the tears the girl cries
We all thought you were wise
But that was all lies

Can't you see the cuts that I make
How I stay in bed when I wake
You think I'm a lazy girl
Your brains in a horrible whirl

Her plans of death
She cries herself until she's out of breath
You must be blind
A rope around her neck she will wind

And until she dies, she will be un-noticed
Until I die, I will be un-noticed




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 Undisclosed151

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I always knew something was not right as early as 1st grade. I think back to "games" that were played with friends during that time span. I remember hanging with a particular friend, one that I was comfortable with...and I would say, I know a game we can play. The game was taking off our clothes and then pretending one of us had a camera --and taking photos of each other. Some friends I would not dare to bring this up. Not sure how a 1st grader would even come up with this...I do remember a flashing bulb and standing naked against a concrete wall...not sure though...can't recall for sure. Anyway, the pictures then became a dare game with 2 of my friends, seperately. I would dare them to lick me after i licked them. Again, how does a 1st grader come up with this...? I know it messed me up, as I was great, great, great at sports, but never had the confidence and turned to alcohol and drugs around 15. I had suicide thoughts in 2nd grade and use to scratch out my face on school pictures --again, where does that come from? I believe I was abused but can't really remember anything, except my behavior, which was not appropriate. I was sexually agressive but not emotionally attached to girls in high school. I began to please men around 19. I took a submissive role and that actually gave me purpose. For some reason, now at 40s...I think about this all the time. I don't want to see a shrink or talk to anyone really. I'm looking for confirmation that my thoughts are realistic, that this behavior was not something a 1st grader would even remotely be thinking about, thx for listening.




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 Devyn

by Devyn
(USA)

Currently I am 13. I have been trying to stay strong and recover. It all started when I was little, my mom and dad would throw giant parties, they would drink ,and smoke with there friends in their garage. Also whenever their friends came over, they would bring there kid. So ever since I was 5 I would have to entertain these other kids until their parents went home, usually their parents would go around 2 or 3 in the morning, or they would even stay the night. Most of the time after everyone left my parents would get into a big fight, my dad would abuse my mom. After a few years we moved into my uncles house, and the parties still continued, but this time I was older and I would still stay up late entertaining kids. I usually would be so tired that I would skip school to sleep because of these parties. Then we moved again to a smaller apartment, an hour away from where my mom and dads friends were, and they still had the parties, but this time it was louder and me and my dad would get into fights. Sometimes he would hit me and such, I only fled away to a friends house. And after a year there, we moved again, and he would still drink. But this time he would abuse me, he would choke me and he even hit my brother in the head with a metal clock causing a big gash in my brothers head. After a while my dad stopped drinking and I suffer from depression from all the memories, I can remember sticking in my headphone and blasting my music just to distract myself from all the fighting, I would also cry myself to sleep. And then my dad quit drinking, and I still was sad from all the memories but things were going great! Until now, my dad is drinking again, and we had another fight, he keeps saying that he is gonna leave and kill himself, and it hurts a lot to hear those things cause I love my dad and he says a lot of hurtful things to me like "I wish you were dead, b***h, f*** you, I hate you, nobody likes you, your a mistake" and a lot of other things and I'm hoping that I will recover and stay Strong cause right now I don't feel strong. But to those who are going through the same I hope you feel better, your beautiful, and stay strong.




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Child Abuse Story From Jan

by Janet
(British Columbia, Canada)

I was abandoned by my birth mother at age 2 along with my brother, who was around 3, our mother didn't want us and left to go to louisianna with a man who she met in the bar, there was 4 of us left abandoned, the child protection stepped in when neighbours complained to the police, we were placed in foster homes my brother and myself in one home, my two sisters in another home, while in this foster home are foster dad would molest us on a regular basis, I would try to tell my foster mother and social workers but it was ignored, around the age of 12 my foster dad committed an indecent act and an assault he was placed on a 2 year probation and to get psychiatric treatment, he continued to molest me and my brother, we continued in the home even when he was charged. I recently obtained my metis status so I was also denied my native heritage, I only found out about my native heritage a year ago I am now 49 I have nothing to show of my childhood no pictures nothing, It was even kept from me that I had an older brother, whom I met about 10 years ago, he died about 3 years ago of a bad heart, I feel the child protection has a lot to answer to I also have the newspaper article where it shows my foster father was charged, I wonder why we still remained in the home to be abused. from one sick mother, who threw us away like we were garbage, into a home of a sexual predator, the child protection should be held accountable, no child should ever have to go through what I went through, I am now 49 years old, never had a days counceling and have moved on with my life and have tried to forget about my childhood. my foster father recently passed away, I am glad he can never hurt another child again as he molested lot of people and got away with it, now I feel its time for me to speak out people should know how the child protection let me down and ruined my 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 Anon

by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)

When I was 10 years old on Thanksgiving Day I had a really hard time eating my breakfast so my step-dad ordered me to change out my clothes and wear my pajamas and go lay in my bed for the rest of the day and if anyone asked if I was hungry I had to lie to them and say that I was sick and couldn't eat anything because I was sick. Once my family arrived I could hear my mom preparing all the food and my entire family having a good time. Then I overheard my grandmother asking where I was my step dad told them that I was sick and couldn't leave my room my mother backed him up with that lie. My grandmother a few minutes later went to visit me while I was lying in my bed and she asked me why I wasn't eating with the family, I had to lie to her face and tell her (even thought I was really hungry) that I was sick and I couldn't eat anything. I think she knows me pretty well because she told me that she could go back and get me some food. I was afraid of what could happen to her or me so I said again that I was sick and couldn't eat. She left and i stayed in my bed with the door closed without having eaten a proper breakfast not eating lunch or dinner for the rest of the day reminding myself that it was not my fault and trying to not feel sorry for myself. I hope hell has a special place for that excuse of a step dad.




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My goal is to inspire you, challenge your thoughts, and break open your heart. Your Self already knows you're remarkable and that the world needs you, more now than ever. It's time you know it and believe it too.
Healing the Body, Mind and Spirit








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Child Abuse Story From Demetria

by Demetria
(Arizona, USA )

My abuse started at a very young age I can't even remember. Now that I'm 35 I'm still dealing with it. I held things inside for so long and I see talking about it and sharing my story makes me feel like I'm releasing. I remember my step father abusing me and my younger sister but I couldn't understand why. I knew he was on drugs and drank a lot but I don't know what provoked him to beat us the way he did. I had one older sister and two younger but it was just me and one of my younger sister that were abused. Well my mother was too. I can remember beatings with paddles until I started bleeding then I was put in salt water baths, I can remember being tied up to a bunk bed hung upside down and being beat, I remember being locked in a cold basement with no food for days unless my mother snuck me and my sister food when he wasn't around. At age 10 my mother finally got the courage to leave him and we moved on. But I was looking for the love of a father, all my friends had fathers that loved them and supported them. At the age of 15 I got pregnant by a man I thought was the best thing in the world. He was a provider and a good father. Life was good for awhile, so I thought, then the abuse started from him along with many other things I thought I would never experience in life. Again I was being abused and didn't know why. Broken leg, broken nose, locked in rooms, was treated like a hostage in my own home. 15 years of my young life I went threw heart ache and pain with him but he loved me so I thought so I stuck by his side. At one point I wanted to kill myself and then I wanted to kill him! But my kids kept me sane. I was 23years old with 3 children in a terrible place After all the years of abuse and pain I had very low self esteem and felt like that's what a man was suppose to do. Then one day I worked up the courage to leave him because at this point my kids were getting older and I didn't want my son to beat women and cheat on them and I didn't want my daughter to think that type of behavior was acceptable. Now I have grown and I'm still looking and praying for a man like the bible says I deserve. My life has been hard and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I only remember the abuse cause that's what I experience the majority of my life. It was physical, mental, and emotional abuse. I'm sharing my story because with all this I've grown to be a great woman and not let my past dictate my future. I'm a great mom to my children and I know one day I will find the great man that I been looking for. The one that will give me all I have looked for in a man all these years. I know in my heart someone will love me as I love them, respect me, and treat me like a woman should be treated. At one point I was afraid that I would never find anyone that will give me all I'm willing to give them but I know the good Lord will bless me.




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Child Abuse Story From Sue

by Sue
(Indiana, USA)

I came from a large family-6 brothers and 3 sisters. My first memory was my parents shooting at each other from a distant. My brothers who are a lot older said it never happened but my sister talks about it too with more details that I forgot about. I wasn't really scared -I was 4 yrs. old I think. But the screaming made me feel like (what is gonna happen to me). My mother was a jealous woman that went into rages,ripping things off walls,smashing appliances-just mean. She would always accuse my dad of cheating on her.My dad was very handsome and my mom was pretty and stylish at that time of my life. One day I remember my mom jumping on my back on the floor in a rage. My oldest brother made her stop.He later said it never happened .Went to a private school-my lunch was fried bolgnia on bread which was lard on meat at lunch time. My milk money was taken by 2 older sisters-I can say I didn't eat breakfast or lunch from grade 1 to 4. In grade 5 we got free lunches-omg it was HEAVEN-but at night at supper we ate in shifts,and I never had much on my plate. Hungry at night and wet the bed until grade 8. At school from grade 5-8 I was abused daily-physically and emotionally. I shut down-I really did shut down. I was like dead inside. No emotions. I learned nothing those 4 years that I can remember. I dint really remember anything too much at all during those years. I had no friends. I had a few close siblings/ashamed to even tell them. High school-I could breathe until my friends found other friends and I didn;t understand. I felt alone and ashamed. Then a monster came into my life. My brothers friend. To sum it up he abused me in every way possible. I was seduced into the boyfriend -girlfriend thing-so I had to do what he wanted or else. My first time I had sex with him,I remember NOTHING. I remember the before and after but not the sex. I wish I didnt remember the disgusting things he did to me all the other times. Another friend of my brothers tried to touch me but I took off and later he killed my 3 kittens and actually killed a man over drugs one night and came to our house to hide. Ofcourse my mom was only worried about the killer. Later he was caught-sent to prison got out and told us how he killed the man (same age) wow they were both men. I graduated High school got a job was doing great and I looked so pretty. But I held that heavy weight around with me. I met my husband to be-my life was good and CRAZY!!!.. He was always in a rage and always took it out on me-emotionally. Got married(I thought I had too). Got pregnant-he had rages and threw objects towards me-I think he aimed at my belly sometimes,but I dodged everything he threw. He was Dr. Jeckle & Mr.Hyde. EGGSHELS-still married-left once for almost ayear-told all his family about my tragidy and laughed at my exspense. I felt like he cut me open and people saw the movie of my miserey. Oh and I have a therapist & a phychiatrist they know about all this/ I'm on prescription drugs-I have a mood disorer,anxiety,panic disorder and depression. Me and my husband pretty much just live together. My daughter was raped by her boyfriend-had an eating disorder-met a normal sweet guy in the airforce(they were friends for years first)they live in ITALY and is doing great. My son got divorced from a crazy phychotic nut case. I thought my mom was bad-this woman is major nuts.They had a boy and a one year old daughter-moved far away and my son is being told to give the baby girl up for adoption-her boyfriend thinks its his baby. Oh -her dad is a JUDGE !! Tonight I started crying out of the blue-not sure why.I'm overweight,high cholesterall,high blood pressure and pre-diabetic and I dont care if I live or not. I keep trying to find desperately a reason to live not just exist. I turned 50 and I have no dreams or ambition-or anything. I believe in GOD always have and he got me through everything-still does.I pray for a reason to live.




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Child Abuse Story From JS

by JS
(North Carolina, USA)

I've been reading stories on this site, and I believe I should share mine...

For the longest I thought that the way I was treated was normal. I thought it was something I did. Only recently did I realized that we (my sisters and I) were being abused. My life started off with me being born to a teenaged mother in the mid 80s. My grandmother had her sign over custody of me to her and she brought me to another state to live with her and her mother, my great-grandmother. This was supposedly so that my mother could get her life together (ex: finish school, gain employment, etc. without having the duty of dragging a baby around). Wrong. Instead, I became my grandmother's little slave. I'm not talking about complaining about a little bit of chores. I'm talking about having to get up and make breakfast for everyone at the age of 6 before going to school. After school, it was homework and starting dinner and laundry. God forbid I did like most kids and get lost in a TV show and not have those chores done. I'd get the worst tongue lashing or even worse--the silent treatment.

As my grandmother got worse in health, I had to take care of her even more. Her 6 children--my mother included--would do nothing to step in. My aunts and uncles would berate me because I wasn't doing a good enough job. My mother (who had two more children and never did finish school) moved in, but she too would berate me. By the age of 10, I was doing things like administering insulin shots and medicine; inserting bladder catheters; doing everyone's laundry and doing all the cooking; getting up extra early in the morning so that I could get my grandmother ready before I had to go to school. Mind you, my grades never slipped for two reasons: I felt that school was the only way I would get some accolades and I was also afraid of what may happen if I failed at it. After all, I had seen my mother teach my younger sister how to read and every time she got something wrong, she would reach as far back as she could and land the most powerful punch to her face.

As I got older, the abuse got worse. My grandmother would scream at me and call me fat and ugly and make me feel like a dog. She would point out these flaws to anybody who would listen. My mother periodically would tell us--mostly me--that she hated us and wish we were never born. We were all selfish, ungrateful b-----s. I was subject to brutal beatings with "the nearest thing she could get her hands on to beat the s--t out me" (her exact words). I was beat with a broom, an iron, her fists, whatever. I became so depressed that my hair fell out and I would do nothing but cry. After everyone went to sleep at night, I would go into the bathroom and get on my knees and ask God to please take me in my sleep because I must not be worthy of living. Tears are streaming down my face as I type this because no child in the dawn of their life should pray and wish that they were dead.

Fast forward...my mother and grandmother are now deceased. I felt sorrow at my grandmother's passing, but not when my mother did. I wonder why that is? I have obtained a couple of degrees and I believe that I am successful. The thing is that I keep reliving my childhood and it keeps me second-guessing myself, still sometimes thinking I am not worthy. I am still at times unsure of myself and think that I am incapable of completing my goals. This abuse has affected my love life--with me getting into a very abusive relationship at 19. Even though they knew he was abusing me, they sided with him. I thank God for the courage and the strength to walk away from that relationship. For God led me to the man who has been my husband for the last three weeks. We are expecting a baby boy at the end of the year. Life seems good, but I still struggle with the way I was treated--especially how others seem to dismiss the fact that I was treated so badly growing up. But I don't let those people write and/or tell my history for me. They don't know my pain. I look forward to the future because 10 year old me never thought we'd ever get to this point. I just want my baby boy to have all the encouragement, love, respect and admiration we have to give. I want him to be confident and sure in his decisions. I want him to know what it's like to be hugged and kissed by his mommy. I want him to know right from wrong, but not fear us to the point he won't come to us if he's in trouble. Basically, I want him to have those things I didn't have--the things that I craved as a child.

Thank you for this platform to share my story. I've left out so many details because I could write forever about the emotional, psychological and physical abuse I suffered. Even the sexual abuse by an uncle (and when I confronted my aunt about it, she just said "Oh"...*shaking my head*). But I'm glad that I found somewhat of a voice here.




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Child Abuse Story From Michaela

by Michaela
(Location Undisclosed)

When I was 10 years old my brother in law lifted up my skirt I tried telling my sister but she didnt believe me then he started touching me everyday and made me send naked pictures my school found out and made it stop. When I was 12 I made friends with a girl on twitter and we were really close. My brother in law started blackmailing me again and I started cutting. She knew but thn used it against me. She spoke to him and she cyberbullied me. She said I was a w***e and a s**t and ugly and fat and that I dont deserve to be a model I became bulimic and attempted suicide. My best friend found out and told my teacher. They then sorted it out again and im 13 now but I still cut and im still suicidal




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Child Abuse Story From Emily

by Emily
(California, USA)

Even at age sixty nearly, I am stuck in my childhood reality. I know my parents didn't intend for me to remember the bad things, the constant tension, sexual acting out, the hitting, the black and blue marks, the constant fighting... but i do... it is like a great symphony in my head that keeps playing out to the death. And I have been married to a quiet loving man for twenty five years. I try to be kind and gentle with my words, but then I find myself screaming and getting angry at little things. I just don't think the mind can take that much really... or the heart...

I am taking voice classes and want to write a musical about the American family that i came from in ALL its reality...

Thank you Darlene for giving me a chance to talk about the bad stuff. I can't sugar coat it, like my neighbor is doing with her situation... I am addicted to chaos, I know... even when there is peace in my life, I undo it easily with my own words...

it's tough to get a handle on the peace I need...




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Child Abuse Story From Anonymous77

by Anonymous
(California, USA)

I am 37 a mother and wife. I never felt safe with any man except my husband. I was molested by a neighbor, a friend's brother who was five years older than me. I only remember bits and pieces of the abuse. It lasted for several months when I was 9 or 10. I am pretty sure it ended when he raped me, but I only remember being naked, him on top of me and not being able to breath. I just can't put the memories together. I have had a lot of struggles with self medicating with drugs and alcohol. I have been sober from alcohol for over 3 years but recently started dulling emotions with prescription drugs and pot. I have been in counseling for almost two years and sometimes feel worse. I am so jumpy, have constant thoughts about the abuse and started cutting myself. I just want it all to go away and not feel disgusted with myself. I actually thought he liked me and I liked the attention from him and willingly went back for more. I am trying to forgive myself but can't seem to stop the self destruction. I feel like I am wasting my life and it is so frustrating. Some memories have resurfaced and they are really hard to deal with. I am struggling not to drink tonight. I really love my kids and husband but feel I don't deserve anything good including them. I recently found out that he raped another neighbor when we were young. I feel guilty for not telling. I just couldn't! I still feel like a little kid is trapped inside of me. Will this ever go away?




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Child Abuse Story From Kristi

by Kristi
(Location Undisclosed)

11 years old. Sitting on the porch in tears. It's dark, I have homework to complete, and the neighbors have all gone in. But I'm scared to go in. What will he do today? My mom doesn't get home from work until 9:30.

I go in quietly and head to my room. Sneak downstairs to the shower. But when I get out, there he is. Telling me to drop the towel and come sit on his lap. Touching me and telling me I have to touch him. Put my lips on him unless I want more than his fingers in me. Saying my mom would be upset with me because I am so wet that he knows I enjoy it.

Why does my mom have to date this man? Why do I have to smell him? Why can't I get away from him? Why did he take my childhood away? Two long years...always wondering what was next.

My mind learned to turn off. I wasn't physically strong enough to fight him off. When I tried, I always lost and paid for the attempt. Just let him do it and pray for it to end quickly. Never quick enough.

I am 40 now. Criticized for being reserved, not sharing my thoughts, not loving. I like to be left alone. I need to concentrate to turn the memories off. Once I get control, I am ok. But the moods swing quickly, and I can't explain it.

I can still smell him. Taste his kiss. Waiting for me to fall asleep so he can begin...the torment will never end.




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Child Abuse Story From Nazbeth

by Nazbeth
(Australia)

I am in my 40's now at a point that has haunted me for as long as I can remember, depressed to depth that are unspeakable and wishing that I can GET OVER My miss trust, insecurities and my life self destructive behaviours.

So many questions I have, is it in my head? Did I invite these things to happen? Why am I still such a victim?

They say when you don't know where to start that at the beginning is as good a place as any.

One of my earliest memories is of being in my parents bed at night and feeling very uncomfortable, he puts is leg over me and then all is dark, my mum is not there, she is in hospital (tubes tied), The next memory that comes to mind is a boy not sure who but I did know where he lived and not sure how old he or I was but when I stood up I was at the right height for his to put his business in my mouth, and I remember that he smacked me for chewing gum (he didn't like the taste of gum, then the milk mans son but that doesn't seem to count cos we were the same age.

Then a girl, didn't want to but froze and just wanted to get it over with, Then my brother, did his thing and called me a s**t.

All the time we where beaten with leather belts, fists, on day dad went to my brother so badly that he went floppy for a while and he still kept on going. When my brother came back I am still sure that one side of his face was droopy, not to bad but I could tell.

My older brother was a b****rd, my younger older brother was a w**ker and I was fat and stupid and would never amount to anything, well they were right there.

I remember me and my middle brother where stripped off one day and sent outside into the snow until one of us admitted to doing something, my brother admitted to it and so he got put in the shower till he apologised to me. My god it was so cold! He was blue even before he was put in the shower. It was me! I was the one that was reading in the cupboard with the light bulb that burn the coat, I just wanted to read a book! Without being told I was thick!

Mum and Dad would get the 2 of us to massage them while they lay in the sun, because we where so good at it, higher, harder it was disgusting I would just look at the mole on the inner thigh and be revolted by the pubic hairs.

I remember sitting at my bedroom window one dag watching the sun go down just wanting it all to end, how could I do it? jump out the window? I was only one story up like that would work..... I was 13......

I did work experience when I was 15 or 16 and the sleazy old man must have been in his 60 I say helped him self to my t*ts for lunch, what did I do? NOTHING!

My mum and dad got a divorce about 2 years ago, they had been married for near on 45 years so it was messy, in some of the calls from my devastated farther he said that the man mum was with was known to have abused young children and mum could be luring children for him now, can I remember him doing anything to me? I could put him in jail if he had, WHAT THE!?

So mum was back in our home land, the other side of the world and my dad still here but planning on moving to the Philippines with his new wife that is my age so he drives down to give my daughter a car and while he is here I tell him that I remember being in his bed and feeling so uncomfortable and the leg etc.. He said "that would have been me....."

Now I see his and his wife's Facebook updates of their tripping around the world, how well they are doing and how happy they are and it makes me crazy! Literally. The happier they are the more I destroy my life and I know that HE will if I say anything negative just put it down to me being one short of a six pack or a few too many cones you know just that sort of person.

I don't blame anyone for any of this. My dad? I can't actually remember him doing anything it was just black after the leg, The guy who didn't like gum, I didn't say no did I? The milk mans son as if! My brother he was living the same life as me if not worse with the beatings and verbal abuse. No I chose the life that I am living and there must have been something that I had done in a past life maybe that I was paying for? I just wish so much to get over it and well be a different kind of person.




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Child Abuse Story From Pannaa

by Pannaa
(Ohio, USA)

Scared:
I was two when my biological father died. My mom turned to drugs and alcohol to cope. She lost all her money with her habit. She began selling her body. The home we once lived and loved in was now her personal w***ehouse. One day, a customer saw me and my older sister playing in the bathroom, he asked how much. For me. My mother gave him the low low price of $10.00. He was allowed to use me for three hours. When he was done, I couldn't walk or talk. I was covered in bruises. I was seven. Soon, my mother only sold me out. Charges went up, but so did business. After a while, I got an STD, and had to stop. My mother was so mad, she said I would have to work in the house until I could go and sell myself again. I was to scrub floors, make food, clean the rooms. She would assign my sister to watch me to make sure I was doing what I was told. My sister would often lie to see me punished. My mothers punishments were horrible and humiliating. She would make me kneel on my hands, lick the floors clean, use my face to clean the floors. I had to eat on the floor, if I was allowed to eat at all. I never went to school. She "home-schooled" me. Her lessons involved sex positions, beatings, and humiliation. I remember once my sister held me down while my mother began to take of my clothes. I fought so hard, unfortunately hitting my sister in the arm. My mother lost it. She took a whip used for customers and whipped me for an hour. A whole hour. My sister laughed and filmed it all. By age eleven, I had given up on life. I tried to end it by hanging myself. My mom found me. She cut the rope, grabbed me, and yelled at me for trying to leave. I stayed with them until I was fourteen. My uncle and his wife took me in. She would make me strip, and dance for her. He would put his fingers inside me. Their son would pin me down and feel my chest, telling me I was a w***e and I should be grateful to him. Now, at sixteen, I live with my boyfriend who's eighteen. He, too forces his hands on me. He lies, cheats, smokes, and drinks. He can get very aggressive. but I am saving up to one day leave it all behind.




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Child Abuse Story From Robbie

by Robert
(Ontario, Canada)

Protecting Our Tiny Hearts: 
As i was a child groing up i had alcoholic parents and very abusive ,i am talking blak eyes broken noses,from my father i wasent the only one but i will stick with me for now,my name is Robbie my dad was so stricted i was scared of the world and every mam i had to meet also,my dad would take me to homes break into them and steal what ever we could that wasent tie,d down,i was 8 and this went on for year,s ,most times mom was pased ot in the chair and had no idea,,some time dad got me to climb telipfone poles to steel the exspensive rope

then most times after being hung over it was like he hated me and every other brother and sister,i use to be punched in the face because i stoock up for one of my brothers,the crushing of his fist on me was terrifing,,,this went on for many years, some times i thought he was playing hide and seek cause he would crawl into my sisters bedroom and tickle them,when he seen me behind him he smacked to the floor and told me to get back to my room,crying and bleeding ,and mom pased ot what could i realy do my dad was sexualy abusing the two sisters for years of there young life

i was mentaly abused by my dad ,but i had sex with 15 or morefrom the age 4 too 13 and by the time i was 19 ive been in more jal and drug s achohol was unrealand been in hospitals to figure out why i liked children while i was in my teens and why i loved to be with men too, there is so mutch more




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 Robbie Part 2

by Robert
(Ontario, Canada)

ChildHood Horrors started when i was five and its still clear as day,and for the next 10 years off and on i had sex with this 42 year old man,that it self is discusting,i was only,
a small child of course ,and he was like 190 pounds 6feet tall, its how he done what he done that led to everything and endured this for years to follow.

Thats just the beginning ,i have been sexualy abused with at least 15 or more of these so called men,and the worst of it all now is they all have children of there own .so i have been not just sexualy abused,but beatin too the ground and broken nose at least 5 different times from my own father,no he never sexualy abused me,but put so much damfear into me i could never tell him of my other sex abusers in fear of being beat.

Not only i was being abused it was the whole family,my father sexualy abused his own daughters for years and had beatin my mom many times,and bruises and black eyes i think he beat everyone to stop us all from speaking,and tell other whats going on in our loving family.

My bio i am writeing is a tuff one to write cause i am sapose to love my father and my mother,my mother i sureley love no dought in my mind, but the fear of what other will see,i had many disfunctions if you will,drunkerd all the time, drugs, jail,and no success as growing up or in most of my adult life,and the worst of it all they all got away with everything they have ever done to out tiny Hearts.




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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