Child Abuse Story From Sue

by Sue
(Ontario, Canada)

I grew up in what most people would consider to be an "ideal" family environment. Two parents living in the home; I am the middle of three children. Financially we wanted for nothing; my father had a good job in the mill and was well liked and well respected in the community. That was the facade he wanted people in the community to see and it couldn't have been further from the truth. In truth he was a tyrant, he was always verbally abusive to everyone, physically abusive towards my mother especially if he had been drinking. Mom always positioned herself between him and us, believing that although he was often cruel to her that he was a hard but "good father" to us. She didn't know went on when she wasn't around. He molested both my sister and I from the time we were infants, although we were teenagers before we knew it was both of us, he used the threat of "getting" the other one as a means of keeping us compliant, always making us believe that by not fighting him we were keeping each other safe. Towards my brother he was extremely physically and mentally abusive. He was an expert at fear and control, none of us was brave enough to tell.

I believe that my childhood abuse has affected my relationships as an adult. I have not been involved in abusive relationships, in fact I have had 3 significant and long term relationships with pretty amazing men who I was unable to commit too. I had huge issues with trust and commitment especially in the first two relationships and I eventually pushed them away and ended the relationship unable to take steps towards marriage etc. I continue to struggle with trust even now.
I wish that I could say that the cycle of abuse in our family ended there; unfortunately I think that as long as the secrets were kept the cycle continued. A year ago my 14 year old daughter disclosed to me that my father had been molesting her also, I believed that by not leaving them alone with him when they were young, and making sure they were aware of the risk of abuse in general they would not fall victim to him, what I learned at my daughters expense is that by keeping his abuse a secret I left a door open for him and he eventually found an opportunity to walk through it. She also disclosed that my older brother, whom I felt would keep her safe because he shared our abuse and protected me as a child, also had been molesting her. That is my guilt, I don't know that I will ever be able to set down the guilt I have for not keeping her safe. I can absolve myself of any guilt for my own abuse as a child... but I can't forgive myself for what happened to her. Unlike my mother who knew nothing of the abuse... I knew what my father was and niavely believed that I could keep his secrets and keep her safe too. In the end of the day it was my job to keep her safe and I failed to do that, it's a very hard truth to live with.
We made the decision to press formal charges, to tell the secrets publically and end the cycle of abuse. I was shocked to discover that there were several people over the years that either outright knew about our abuse or who suspected it but who chose to keep silent rather then get involved. It's a difficult truth but one I can somewhat understand since I also kept silent. Since we disclosed most people have been incredibly supportive with one huge exception, my sister who also suffered his abuse was incredibly angry that we exposed him and so exposed her abuse, she does not deny the abuse but did not want the family or her inlaws to know. She no longer speaks to any member of my family and won't allow me to see her children with whom I was very close. It's been a struggle for the whole family. The court process is painful and difficult and is slowly crawling forward. No matter how hard this year has been I am incredibly proud of the bravery of my little girl, she did the hard thing I was never strong enough to do, she told, and for me as hard as things are anything is a better situation then her continuing to be abused. My Mother, to her credit, did not waiver at all when I told her the truth, she has moved in with me and my children and is a huge source of comfort and support for all of us. We are all in counselling and are moving slowly towards healing. We have a long way to go yet but I believe that we are on the right path.If I have learned anything throughout this last year it's that no matter how hard it has been there is strength in the telling.




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 Patience

by Patience
(Australia)

My earliest memories began when i was 9 and i considered myself to have a happy, normal family. Although my mum and dad had their little arguments now and then, we still did normal things and were a picture perfect family i guess. The first night of anything happening is still one of the most vivid aalthough I have tried over and over to forget it. I remember laying in bed and going to sleep and then heard my door open and saw my father walk in. As a lawyer, he usually worked late and i didn't see much of him. I guess this night marked a whole different side that I was going to see. He walked in and knelt down beside my bed and told me that he was home. My father had never really been the affectionate type and i didn't know what to say when he started running his hand over my body. I just froze and didn't know what to do. He left after a little while and I just layed there trying to breathe.
This happened once every few months for 2 years and everytime it happened he would touch me more and more. One time he started crying and kept telling me he loved me. I was young and didn't know what to think.
When I was 11, it got worse. Laying there again, I prepared myself for a chance he might come into my room again. This time it was different. He took my clothes off and did something to me which I later found out was sex. I can still hear him inside my head telling me that everything would be ok and that he loved me still. After he finished i just layed there in pain, confused and scared. The pain was unbearable, but i tried to hide it from my mother. I was scared of letting her know about everything. She was busy with work and I guess in a way I thought she wouldn't believe me. This kept happening for another 2 years and would happen as often as once every 2 weeks. Everytime he came into my room, he became more desperate. Everytime I became more and more confused. I had heard that sex happened between two people who loved and cared for each other. Was this really how he felt about me? Was what he was doing to me normal for fathers and daughters?
I felt so disgusted and ashamed at myself. I felt ashamed because it wasn't supposed to happen, but yet sometimes it felt good.
I remember a few times he came into my room and had gifts for me such as new clothes and would get me to model them. I did as he said...too scared to say no.
He got obsessive. Like he felt I was his and I had to do everyting he said. He had so much power over me. He made me say his name each time and tried to make me admit that I liked every moment of it. He even filmed it once and made me sit and watch it after. I felt like i was trapped and had no way out.
It became too much and one day I jumped out of my 2 story window. I figured that was the only way out for me. I wanted to be dead just so he could leave me alone.
It stopped when i was 13. My younger brother walked in when was ontop of me and he told mum. I remember her being in tears as she asked me if it was true. He was right....it did break up my family. I felt like mum hated me for it. SHe didn't though and she made sure i knew that.
I'm letting all of this out now because I have fallen in love with the most amazing man. I want to be with him more than anything but i feel like this is holding me back. I feel like a part of me was stolen by my father and it's a part im trying so hard to get back. I deserve to be happy. I know i need to accept everything in order to move on and after all these years I think it's time I did. Until now I've never had someone in my life who is worth being myself with. I know I'm strong and I know I can move on with my life and right now there's only one direction I want to go. I want to do this for him and most of all I want to do it for 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 Larry

by Larry
(Missouri, USA)

I Overcame: 
Let me start by stateing that what I am about to tell is motovated only by other stories that I have read or heard. I seek no sympthy, compensation or no contact from others wanting to convey their well wishes. I am a man who is in his 70's and will tell of an era where there were no laws to protect children or spouses from neglect or abuse. We go back to the 1930's and early 40 in America.
I was born in the late 30 in a small midwestern town known as the Bible belt, where things were suppost to be perfect, church going, Bible believing people. But abuse has no boundries or class. When I was born, my father would not let my mother name me, saying "he won't amount to anything and he doesn't deserve a name." So for the next few years I was known by the public as that "Smith kid" , (borrowed name). But when I started to school in 1939 my teacher ask me what is your name, I don't believe I ever heard your mother call you by name. That is when I got a name, I had a friend that lived in my same block and he was from a wealthy family and as a kid he had everything that I did not have. So I used his first name thinking that it would give me some type of importance. So that is how I received my name, I named myself. When my father heard about that I had a name and how I got it, he gave me another beating just like many I have received before. But this was not just any beating, this one like others were sadistic. My father would beat my on my back and legs with belts or switches until the blood would run down my legs and on to the floor. Then he would make me walk through the blood and we would play a game. The game was this, we would try to figure out what the images of the foot prints in the blood on the floor looked like. Now if the images were not good enough, then I got another beating for this.
I remember on my 6th birthday I got a new bicycle, but did this ever come with a price. My father told me that this bicycle cost him $6, so he need to be paid back, so this time I got another beating. With the blood running down my back, he made me go out and ride the bicycle, I had never been on one, so I couldn't ride it. This time I remember him flying into a rage and he beat me severly. I was in bed for a few days, I don't know how many.
I was about 7 or 8 when the beatings stopped, by that time his favorite thing was to slap me, most of the time knocking me down. If it knocked me down he would force me to stand and he would hit me again, saying stand up like a man. When I was younger he would always yell at me I am going to knock your head off, or I'll cut the blood out of you. Well he did many times cut the blood out of me and I was sure that he would sometime knock my head off, because it seemed to me that he was trying his best.
When I was 9 years old my father almost beat me to death with a hammer. I was helping him install a piece of drywall, then it was called sheetrock on the ceiling of a new house he was building, well I couldn't hold that large piece over my head on the ceiling and the piece cracked. Again he flew into a rage and started hitting me with the hammer. I was really hurt and hurt bad, and when my mother came home from work, I told her that I had fallen out of a tree. I dont know if she believed me or not but she never let on, she was just afarid of my father as I. He did not let mother take me to the doctor because he did not have the money to spend on such worthlessness.
I never saw my father strike my mother, but she was always subject to verbal attacts and abuse.
Finally the phyiscal abuse stopped but the verbal abuse continued untill I was about 20 and married. One day when my father started, I had had enough and I stood up to him. I remember pushing him backwards and telling him to come on and lets settle this once and for all. I then saw for the first time in my life what my father was, he was brave against small childred and women, but was a true coward, asking me not to hit him.
My father died a few years ago, he always wanted to be a millionaire, he was always sure he was going to win the lottery or a big contest, but he never did. So at his funeral when the family gathered around the casket for the final good-byes I got my final justice. As some of the family was saying their good-byes I was writting a check, my oldest son came over and ask me what I was doing, I showed him the check. He words to me were, "its finished, isn't it'. I walked over to the casket folded the check and placed it in his pocket. I know he didn't hear what I said and never knew what transpired but when I placed that check in his pocket I spoke out loud for all to hear. I said, "well you old bastard, this worthless son, who you never thought would amount to much paid for the clothes you are wearing and just now made you a very rich man. I then personally closed the casket.
To this day no one ever knew what the amount of that check was except my eldest son. I wrote that check for one million dollars and added paid in full. My father could have taken that check to the bank, and I guarentee you it would have been good. His wothless son made him a millionaire and he never knew 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 Mickey1

by Mickey
(Location Undisclosed)

I really don't know how to start this so I'll try my best. I'm 13 years old born december of 1996. I'm the only daughter out of my parents children so when I was little I had gotten used to my big brothers friends playing with me. I love my big brothers a lot so as a little child I just thought that anyone my brothers played with must be a good person so I automatically took in any older male playmates without hesitation. When I was 4 we had a boy who was very close to our family and I trusted him and well I've always trusted others very easily, as a child and right now to. This boy always played with me wether it was patty cake or with my stuffed animals or whatever but then one day he wanted to change things up a little. He asked me if I wanted to play a different game and he started having me touch him and he would touch me. As a 4 year-old I had absoloutley NO idea what I was touching and had NO idea what was going on. So I didn't know it was bad at all. This went on and he would have me do disgusting things and he'd do the same.one day he penetrated me but he didn't go to far because I started crying and said no. I think I was still 4 at this time or maybe 5 but he never tried that again. This went on everytime I went to spend the weekend at my dads till I was 8 which meant it happend twice a month every month. I just told my mom march of this year, my dad doesn't know and my brothers don't know. I don't plan on telling them because it hurt my mom a lot when I told her, she cried a lot and kept telling me how sorry she was and I never wanted to make my mom feel so much pain and my mom doesn't even know it still bothers me or that he penetrated me. I lied about some things when she questioned me. Recently I made a friend, we won't name her but she's a really good friend. She's the first person I've ever told the full story to with all the details and everything and I didn't even put all the details on here. This friend I made, well she's a really good one and I love her a lot for helping me with this and listening to me. Regardless the whole thing still bothers me ALOT . I have nightmares,I'm clingy, immature, I feel extremely ashamed about it and I really hate myself for letting it happen. It makes me cry alot and I'm pretty disgusted with myself. Its something I'm having a hard time with and I don't like it cause I'm a really cheerful easy going person.




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 Mickey Part 2

by Mickey
(Location Undisclosed)

Uhmm so ive already submit a story on here but this one is about what's going on currently.....my mom is always mean to me now.. I don't understand why. She's always putting me down or when I try to talk to her she gets mad at me. tonight I went into her room and I said I wanted to tell her somethin. I was excited cause I thought it was really cool and I sat on her bed and she started talking to me in a really mean way telling me to get off her bed and so I just said oh well I don't wanna talk anymore and she said good. Then she called me back 10 min later via txt message and she said "what do you want".... that might not seem that bad but I just didn't like it so I just said nothing. One day I said I was leaving and never coming back. She said good. Another day I said I didn't love any of the people in our home. She said the feeling was mutual. Then another day I said I hoped I died. She said I do to. She's always letting my brothers be mean to me and when they say something mean to me she laughs because according to her they were just playing but when I say something mean back..... I get in trouble. I used to really love my mom and look up to her. I thought she was a great person. Beautiful on the inside and outside... now she's getting uglier in my eyes everyday. Even though I'm 13 and I'll be 14 at the end of the year and shouldn't really care I still really miss how my mom used to be. I wanna talk to my mom like I used to be able to and everytime I try and talk to her and she's mean to me I feel horrible and really wanna cry. I know I'm too old for it but I really miss my mom.




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 Mickey Part 3

by Mickey
(Michigan, USA)

Maybe I am writing on here to much. I'm sorry if I am. I did tell you that I had a friend who i'd talk to about these things but she's a christian. She says that God could help me if only i'd just put the situation in his hands, she has me tag along with her when she goes to church hoping I'll be saved or whatever the hell she'd like to call it. Just breathing in the air of that place makes me sick. Throughout the entire service I feel as if I'm only seconds away from throwing up. I really do love this friend of mine though so don't get me wrong and I'm not saying that there is no god because there is one and he can help (everyone except for me that is)but the only time I ever turn to prayer is when my friends are in need. I don't understand why children should have to deal with these types of things and why some parents are so neglegent like my own. I shouldn't feel as dirty,unclean,used, and worthless as I feel. My friends, well I look at them astonishment. They're so pure, so good and yet there's me. I forgive the person who molested me and I really do love him and wish the best for him but it hurts me to think that someone who our family loved and trusted so much would do such a thing, it hurts that while this went on for almost 4 years my brothers would be in the next room so engrossed in their video games that they didn't think to go see what their friend was doing in the room with their little sister. I think what hurts the most though is that Daddy would be right under us, but I guess he was really interested in that basketball game he was watching and that there wasn't much time to check on me and that Mom was to busy readying herself for nights out with her boyfriend to notice me doing weird things with my dolls or to question me when i'd say "Mommy, M comes in my room and 'plays' with me when I go over Dad's house". Its sad that I have friends who care about me more than my mother does and if they could, would take better care of me. I can say with full confidence that if my friend B had been my mother or even if she had to take care of me for just next week that she'd have done a better job than my mother has done these past 13 years. Just last week I had been planning to prostitue myself and had told B. She wasn't at all happy with it, she said just the thought of me getting hurt from doing this made her tear up. I never want to make her cry and so I changed my mind. This really is just a bunch of random comments all squished together I guess. Well whatever, I'll be going now because I have homework to do because I don't plan on getting bad grades and becoming a bum. What I do plan on doing is getting a good education, graduating from college, getting a good job and spoiling my children giving them everything they could possibly want and protecting them making sure they're safe at all times unlike my parents. Its quite obvious that I need counseling but my mother does not care enough about me and my situation so I will without a doubt seek counselling the very second I turn 18 and can afford it on my own because I REFUSE to hurt my children and I REFUSE to let this twist my mind and making me continue with what started with me and become a child molester. My mind may be twisted at the moment but I'm not letting that go on for very long. That's all I have to say for now, Goodnight.




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 Anneka

by Anneka
(United Kingdom)

It all started when i was just 7 years old. When my parents would go out and my older brother was babysitting me and my younger brother and sisters, he would touch me in a disgusting way. I was too scared to speak to anyone about it. I felt so sick and scared when my mum would say she and dad had to go out, just worrying about what was going to happen next. When it first started i was too young to understand what was happening to me but as i grew up i understood very well and i knew it was wrong but i was too scared to tell anyone. My brother always used to say if i told anyone, no-one will believe me and my family would hate me and never want to speak or see me again and that it was my fault it was happening. i kept my mouth shut because i believed him and just wanted someone to love me in the corrct way. this had been going on for 5years now. he would also make me touch him in the most horrible places ever.

One night i went to bed and so did everyone else in the house, well atleast thats what i thought, until i heard him sneak upstairs. I knew exactly where he was going. I shut my eyes pretending i was asleep thinking that would make him go away but it didnt. Next thing i know he was laying ontop of me, pulling my underwear down and forced himself inside me, i didnt know what to do so i froze. It hurt alot, it was such a scary moment, i have never been so scared in my life. once when i refused to do as he said and ran out the room, i heard his heavy footsteps following me, he was right behind me, then suddenly i fell. all i remember was running away from him and then i woke up lying on the bottom step of the stairs. Luckily all i did was brake an arm. When mum and dad arrived home and asked what had happened i just said i fell from the climbing frame in our garden. I wanted to tell my mum but felt like i couldnt. Finally when i gathered up the courage to tell her, i spoke to my older sister first in her bedroom she then called mum upstairs and we sat down and spoke the 3 of us. Mum hit me across the face and was shouting in my face saying "why are you such a f**king attention seeker, trying to ruin this family!!" She then went down stairs took my brother into his room and asked him if it was true he denied it. Mum then came thumping upstairs towards my sisters room slammed the door open...grabbed me by the neck and strangled me so hard i actually weed myself, she shouted at me 'im a selfish bitch and ever since i was born the family has hated me they never wanted me, they have never loved me.'

i feel like i have had to deal with this pain on my own i will never have anyone that loves me, but then he admitted the horror he put me through. My mum felt so guilty for what she had done and said but ever since that day mum has supported me as much as she possibly could. But a few weeks later she thought i had just forgot about it all and forgave the monster for what he had done. i feel i can't talk to my mum about how i feel now. i have felt so alone, hurt, depressed. Everyday i sit in my room thinking about all the different ways i could die, i have slit my wrists, taken 1 overdose which made me so ill i cant take tablets now and i have hung myself....nothing seems to work, i dont want to be here anymore i dont belong, just let me die and be happy. from this day now i sit in my room lock my door put my music full blast so no-one hears me screaming.

please talk to someone if you have been through such horror it doesn't help bottling it up. You need someone there that can help you, it will take time i know but your life will be worth living. Remember: there are people who love you, its not your fault and your never on your own. Dont let people think your are the victim let the people out there see you are the survivor!!!




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 Jessi

by Jessi
(New York, USA)

Mi hands are shaking just typing this... It all started wen i was six... it was mi birthday and mi older brother wanted to show me a ''presant'' he had saved just for me, it was a big secret... he tyied me to his bed face down said it was part of the game to get mi prize. now mi birthday is in August, so all i had on was a bathsuit. he took it off me... i cried i said i didnt want it anymore, that i didnt like what he was doing. he got on top of me and pushed himself into me, again and again, he told me if i made too much noise he wood hurt mi little brother. he stoped after he was done and layed on top of me... panting he told me that if i told he wood make mi parents send me away and that they wood believe him because he is older than me. I was so ashamed so scared i cried miself to sleep. the rapes continued.

Wen i turned seven mi mom started abusing me at first it was just hitting me, then by the time i was eight it was throwing me against the wall. she always did it wen noone was around, it was like i was being kicked out of mi own family and trapped... no where to go, i tryied killing miself, mi friend hung herself so i tried complete failure. I felt so low. We moved again and again.. having friends was no point wen you move every year. we moved into the city me and mi lil brother went to a cathlic school... wen playing outside at ten i met this seventeen year old, he looked soo amazing, he said the right thing, i wood go to mi friends house and hang with him, it was all good until he raped me, i begged him not to i begged him to stop... he beat the s**t out of me said i was his b***h. id go home from school get mi ass beat by mi mom who had a hard day at work go to mi friends see this boy, he wood rape me and beat me, he put drugs in mi body, beat me again... id go home and if mi older brother was staying with us that weekend id be raped... that was mi life until i was almost 12. mi dad got custody of mi older brother so it was almost every night i was being raped... mi mom got another job, we moved more stress on her more abuse on me... I started cutting miself.. mi bestfriend at the time saw the cuts one night that i stayed at her house, i told her everything, her older brother overheard... who i had a total crush on... he confronted me... and said that he wasnt gonna let me go threw it anymore... i have never seen the 17 yr old rapist since.

i still had a horrible home life i was a girl with alot of secrets... i stayed over her house more and more me and her brother got closer we started dating now he was 15 and he had an idea if i got pregnant i cood get out of mi house by law... so i got mi period wen i was tweleve... i got pregnant and had mi litlle girl too early i got the s**t beat out of me the night before... by mi mom. i Had mi small 3 pond 2 oz baby girl... she was so beautiful, her lungs werent fully devolped and she died in mi arms at 10:25 am November 14, 2004. She was so tiny, but she was mine. i went into a horrible depression... losing mi daughter is the worst thing in mi life and will be the worst thing that ever happened to me... well mi boyfriend proposed and said we wood get married wen i turned 18. well his father got cancer and went back to france where he got treated... i told him to go... to be with his dad... his dad got better, but while going to a store a robbery happened and he being the guy he was he tried to help, he was shot three times, he was in a coma for two months and passed on march 13th four days before his eighteenth birthday. i was in tenth grade. mi life collasped... i started dating this guy, he used me beated me.. then started selling me because he had a meth habit... i was sold and beat over 100 times... id go home get raped and abused every day was a living hell.. we moved the year before my boyfriend passed, so a new school... the first year i kept to miself. i trusted noone... wen he passed a person in school had noticed a bruse on mi arm below it cuts... we started talking and we got close i opened up for the first time and told her about my boyfriend and the other guy, and mi family and home life.. wenever i didnt have school i stayed with her... then i went to mexico for a week on a christain mission... i felt amazing free, i got to help people who lived in cardboard houses who lived if lucky on seven dollars a day for a family of five... i met an amazing person named A, she saw mi troubled soul, so the last sunday we were there at the sermon i shared mi story about mi mom abusing me, people who knew me jaws droped... and we all became so close, this weight lifted off mi sholders... i stayed that summer at mi aunts house she was happy to have me cause she had a baby boy and i took care of him while she worked and wen she was home she had someone to talk to someone who made dinner bathed the baby and watched and kept her older child ocupided wen she needed it for free.. i was so happy to be out of mi house... a year went by, mi brother left he went and lived with a friend... he was old enough that mi dad coodnt do anything about it... thank god... he did return on mi 15th birthday and raped me, but since then nothing... and im so happy... about that. the next summer i went back to mexico this time it was only ten people from mi church and they all knew me... one of the girls who went the year before asked me to tell mi whole life story, because she knew there was more, and it moved her so much that people needed to hear how i never stoped loving god.. so i did, and mi pastor and i got so close i told about mi mom i told how mi brother abused me, i coodnt mention mi daughter, its hard now to say her name. i came back and lived again with mi aunt she a beautiful baby girl, who turned into mi world... shes mi little baby girl. now mi mom wood hit me but only on occation... she stoped wen i was 17, idk y but i wont question it, ill enjoy it... i met an amazing girl on March 13, i was online at mi aunts house babysitting and i was breaking down and i got an I.M. from her saying if i wanted to talk to chat her up... i responded hi, mi jessi... and it went from there she got me to open up, and she comfronted me, i never cried so much in mi life... she to this day has saved me from killing miself, at times... she knows everything about me. she told me she loved me, in everyway possible... i was so shocked that someone as amazing as her cood... i fell in love and im still in love... with her. She is mi world, mi light to mi dark, mi heaven to mi hell... and if it wasnt for her... i woodnt be able to tel mi story. Many of mi friends come to me, wen they have problems... im known as mom and the funny one in mi group... sometimes u need a laugh at a horrible avent to get threw it... i know what hell is like.. and im glad it was me... instead of someone else.. and honestly if i had a choice id want it all to happen to me, so noone ever has to go threw anything that abuse is!!! all i got to say now is... God Bless You, and its not your fault it's not I have to tell miself that everyday, but its not.. you can and you will get threw it... God put you on this path for a reason... with him you can achieve the impossible... I promise you that... God Bless You and may he see everything that you have been threw, and wen your day comes may he show you what his hands feel like has he holds you for etrnity.




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Child Abuse Story From Gemma

by Gemma H
(Newcastle upon Tyne)

I was sexually abused by my dad when I was 3 up until 7! At 1st he was washing and drying me in a undaddy way but we always shared a bath so I thought nothing at all. If he stayed in bed with me after a story he would say how much he hates himself and wants to take care of me properly and he was supposed to be a good dad too. I always wondered why he would stay with me moving about under the blanket for ages. It was when I was @ least 4 and a bit when it started getting bad because he would now touch me without trying to hide it and would tell me not to wear knickers tonight under my nighty and I just couldnt understand why he would keep me awake...I just had to try and sleep through it. I remember being on the sofa with him watchin tele and he asked to talk where he said he wanted to start doing stuff all daddies do with their children and if I was ok with it, anyway I ended up putting chocolate spread on places I shouldnt be for oral sex which didnt seem to last long probably because even though I didnt feel uncomfortable I could tell he knew it was wrong and actually went quiet for ages after that until I started going to infants schooland then it got sexual aswell as sharing foreplay now. The sex was shock because it came out the blue and plus we were on holiday with the rest of the family but I suppose he only penetrated me a little until it hurt and stopped but when we were back home it happened most nights for a couple of weeks until it didnt hurt no more. I know he did something with my friend from dancing too, she came back to mine and he was playfighting with us and allsorts and he was fun but when it came to going to bed he wouldnt leave us and insisted he sleep here 2 but had 2 make a den on the floor as there was no room on the bed, I was so embarrased that I went to go 2 sleep but he was whispering with her and heard her elastic on her pyjamas flick and was quiet for ages but I knew what he was doing and I didnt do a thing just stayed frozen still with my heart thumping :( he did stop but if she said stop at first she wouldnt have been molested at all. So I then knew that I only have to say stop and we wont have to do it!! I feel really guilty on my freind as its my dad. Sorry I could go on forever lol but has been a wierd feeling telling someone or something I dont know properly without being shy. I know now anyway why he never accepted a girlfriend because he would have had to walk on egg shells to get the sort of sized girl he realy wanted. I never see him now he knows I realise but I also realise that he was born that way 2 but I just think he should of tried harder not to cross the line...I mean there were times he would have sex with me in the toilets after parents evening, who was to ever know that was happening?! Anyway sorry if this goes too deep but thats my story anyway.




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Child Abuse Story From Euphemia

by Euphemia
(Location Undisclosed)

Ok, maybe I am really insane or something, but I honestly suspect I might have been abused. It sounds kind of stupid, hell it sounds even far-fetched to me, but whenever I am near my dad I feel extremely uncomfortable like there's something I am missing over there. Is that abuse? Me forgetting the memories of abuse? Or is it just me haullucinating and believing in ridiculous stuff? Oh and another thing is that I have always had a strange fascination with child abuse stories, as if I could relate to all the stories. But the thing is that outwardly, based on any societal standards, I am by all accounts considered to be in a loving and wonderful family. And btw, in all my memories, I can never recall of a time my parents might have abused me sexually. I don't know if I'm insane.




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Child Abuse Story From Jon

by Jon
(Location Undisclosed)

Growing up children would like to believe their parents will be supportive and be there when they need them while growing up. What happens when that is not the case and the child is left on his own to figure out his issues in life. This is what happened to me and how it has affected my life. My parents never divorced but looking at it was only a nice illusion to put on for others. I remember my father's constant criticism and belittling of the rest of our family that included my mother and sister. Other things seemed more important than his children such as gambling and other pursuits. I never had the other parent to ask things and it became apparent he really didn't care nor was going to change. I was on constant guard in case of arguments that could pop up any time and usually over trivial things. The verbal abuse and neglect has made me deal with many issues. Part of me is still left being that child asking "why couldn't you have at least been there to listen," i grew up dealing with issues that children should not handle until there older. The constant criticism and abuse with the attitude of "my way is right" has affected the whole family. Sadly i have learned how not to treat people. There has rarely been a warm feeling for my father even when i was little. The feelings of intimidation, fear, and control are the things i connect with this person. I am still dealing with the issue of who i am and the rest of the baggage that has come with it.




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Child Abuse Story From Emily

by Emily
(Scotland)

When I was 4 a boy 2 years older than me molested me, he was supposed to be my best friend. He would make me play dares with him and take our clothes off. He would then lay on top off me and touch me, sometimes he would make me touch him. It stopped after a few months. Then, when I was 7 my half-brother, aged 14, took me to his room and made me touch him even though I said "no". It was only once and lasted about 10 minutes but felt like an eternity in hell. We moved a year later and I guess I locked the memories away untill about a year ago. I'm not sure what brought it on, I think it was when my half-brother told me to "stay away from boys". About a month ago my 20 year old neighbour tried to kiss me and shoved his hand down my top which just pushed me over the edge I guess. I told my one of my older sisters because I burst out crying in front of her, unable to stop the rush of memories. Now she and my mother know about the boy and about my neighbour, but not about my half-brother. I couldn't let my mum down again, even if she keeps letting me down. She believes me about it all but almost stuck up for the boy, "it was probably because of his parents", it sounded as though she was defending his actions. I'm 14 now and I put on a happy face even though I cry almost every night. I smoke, I have severe trust issues, I only love two people and still don't fully trust them, I have low self esteem, no confidence, I self harm, I'm bulimic, I have anger issues, I'm violent, I'm border bipolar, I'm depressed and I've tried to commit suicide more times than I'd care to share. My mother doesn't care that I'm depressed, it's "part of being a teenager". Maybe so but I'm not so sure about everything else. It's good to know that I'm not alone and I can share what happened with people who wont judge me. It's hard not to feel empty and alone, even in a group of people.




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Child Abuse Story From Rachelle

by Rachelle
(USA)

Living without a father: 
my dad was abusive even before i turned 2 we left him mom dated till i was about 7 she found a guy all but she knew her abused me he hurst me i had brusies all over my body. he told me if i told anyone i would get every single hit worst i will always live with that he ruined my life and becuase of his game now im on anti depression and scard of everyguy my mom dates im terriofied this will happen again. as a child we shouldn't be scard of our own house. that is our shelter.





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Child Abuse Story From Louishern

by Louishern
(Location Undisclosed)


Growing up as a 14 year old girl im not happy with my life. I dont have a family that care for me. I stress about what tomorrow will bring me happinesss, or sadness. I have the most rudest grandma ever she uses words that is unnessary to use. she doesnt listen to me and when i do speak she gets mad a throw any kind of object that she can find. I get pick on everyday by my brother who i hate, and my cousin who thinks she the boss of me just because she is older then me i...i say to myself every day that i will never ever will respect her, in order to get respect you give it. My mom i dont trust her one bit, i dont go to her for no personal problems i have, or if i have trouble with things.If i do tell her and she doesnt like it she laugh or she hits me. she buys things but i dont care cause buying things for me will no satisfy me the love and care you show me does.
Everyday i wonder what will life be like in heaven instead of earth....i have alot of friends who care about me...im going to high next month and i hope to find a better surrounding




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 BB

by BB
(Kentucky, USA)

I've only told two people in my whole life about this experience, before i say it i am a male who is now twenty one years old and this probably has nothing to do with anything but i play bass guitar in a band now. Anyways when i was about six or seven i used to live in this suburban rural type of area; this older boy who i believe was in his early teens or about nine or ten who i believe was my step-dads friends kid im not sure i didn't really know him at all but he some how got me down in to our basement at my old house and i dont really remember much; alot of its really black. So he somehow convinced me that we would play a game that involved both of our things touching and we eventually layed on the couch in the basement while pretty much he was rubbing his penis all over mine for a good while and i mean there was no dont tell anyone or anything he just went on like it was normal and then left and i didn't think anything of it. Honestly i dont know if i was in such shock it didn't effect me at the time or if i thought it was something normal just a little different or what i dont know but i literally went on like nothing had happened; that was the only time it happened im pretty sure and i didn't tell anyone.

But im pretty sure i blocked it out until one day when i was about eighteen and my girlfriend broke up with me; i was having a conversation with her about why we was having so much sex that it all of a sudden came back to me and i remembered it and i told her about it and she didn't really have much to say i honestly dont think she believed me i told her to please not tell anyone about it cause i was honestly ashamed at myself for not saying anything about it when i was a child and i just didn't want our friends to know about something like that.

I think back on things now and i grew up extremely depressed, completely couldn't relate to people sometimes and overly quiet when i would be in school or around people in school and i have always had problems with my parents for no honest particular reason i just get mad at them when we try to have conversations. I dont know if i subconsciously feel like its there fault that this happened to me or what.

But i've had an insane amount of sex for someone my age and dealt with alot of sexually based relationships that ended terribly horrible and im not trying to sound emo or suicidal or anything but like everyone of my girlfriends eventually cheat on me and i've dealt with alot of b***s**t relationship wise plus i seem to have always been overly sexually active in my teens and kinda sorta am a seducer in the sense with out trying to be. Plus i seem to get along and connect and sometimes end up wit overly sexual type of women and it seems the older i get the harder it is to relate to people and even talk to people all together and it also seems as though i feel lonely and depressed at the most random of time.

I mean dont get me wrong i am an extremely upbeat and happy go lucky type of person and always trying to look at the bright side of things and i actualy give pretty good advice to people and have helped alot of people through hard times not to sound full of myself or anything. For some reason though i have alot of self doubt and judge myself alot and view myself and my own body and everything else about myself in a very negative light on alot of occasions. But i am the type of person to just swallow pain or someting f***ed up someone is doing to me and just bottle it up until i explode at random when s**t at my job happens and i get all these emotions and past relationships that spur up when it happens. Plus to kinda dive in my sexual life i am always trying to please my partners and i'm always sorta submissive in my actions with them and it sometimes will get to the point where i won't really feel like or even want to do something but if they really want it i just kinda give in and the f***ed up part about it is that i sorta get some weird pleasure out of it. plus i sorta let people walk over me and just like my sex life if somebody wants me to do something and i feel uneasy or uncomfortable with it i most likely give in and do it anyways and just block out how i dont like what im doing and just forget about it.

There have been times in fact within the last year where images of the abuse pop up and i sorta get emotional about it and start to think about the fact that i dont know my father and how he left me as a baby and how alot of women and people in my life have left me behind which brings us to the next subject of this escapade i have insanely major detachment issues i cant even explain how painful it is when i was ever broken up with or whenever one my dear friends stopped talking to me. which could be a combination of the fatherless thing and the abuse i dont know if its when whatever it is that happens just triggers these subconcious feelings or what.

Another thing that seems to have been building ever since i told my girlfriend at eighteen i seriously feel as though im developing a second personality. This will sound fight clubish but it as if i slowly have been getting more and more angry not all the time to where its a constant its just when i get angry and get pushed enough to where i sorta explode i swear it feels as though another completly hateful and bitter person takes over and acts in ways i'd rather not act and i really kinda dont feel like myself when this happens and its only when i get super pissed. When i am happy i feel like myself like i said i am a really upbeat person and happy person that even has good advice but when i get pissed i feel as though someone has entered the building and i lose control of my emotions and body.

like i dont know what to do i feel as though i've gotten over the whole thing and i can just go on without my loved ones knowing but at the same time i feel as though it has a hand in all the emotions i feel and how i have a really hard time trying to relate and even talking to people about anything. like if anyone has any encouraging things to say or any advice im all ears and sorry about the sorta long sad type of story im just trying to find an alternative way to deal with this thing where i handle it my own way im just not ready to tell the people i know yet but please if anyone even reads this i would greatly appreciate a response it would mean the world to me and you may possibly help to bring some sanity to my world.

Thank you for listening and have a wonderful and complete life....

-BB




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Child Abuse Story From Liz

by Liz
(Location Undisclosed)

i was a happy normal little girl who liked horses and would ride everyday at the local stables but one time the person would bend me over the small wall which housed the hay and touch me and do things to me,
i was never frighten!!! is this normal respond
men always did things to me why, did i have a look about me that said "do what ever YOU want.
Three times this happened then i was raped and then i was marriged but he rape me too.
And hit my daughter and the animals too.
I was scared to leave with a young child, dog and cat. Where do you go to. if all the people you trust abuse you anyway.
i am 51 now but still feel like it only yesterday that it happened My daughter has died now but i miss her so much i wanted to say sorry about her life,
i feel so much guilt.




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 Jeslyn

by Jeslyn
(Location Undisclosed)

Well it all started when my dad met this woman. They fell in love and everything was great for awhile. Then come to find out, she got him on drugs. A few months went by and everything seemed to be going ok. (This is when we started noticing we were being abused). My dad asked my brother to vacume the living room and my brother didnt listen. Then like too hours went by and my dad finally noticed my brother didnt vacume the living room and so he called my brother into the living room. He asked my brother why he didnt vacume and my brother said I dont no. Thats when all hell broke loose. He beat my brother with a hair brush soo bad he left welts on his butt. I went into my room cause I couldnt stand to hear it. After it was all said and done my dad left. My brother walked into the hall way and said my name. I opend up the door and walked outa my room, he showed me his butt. There was bruises so bad he couldnt sit down. His hole butt was black and blue and his face bright red, and eyes puffy. Right then I knew something was wrong. Way wrong. I cant recall what made us not tell on him. Maybe because he was our dad and we loved him. I guess we will never no. Alot of other things happend to us that I dont like to talk about, after all of that. I got older and things got worse. It wasnt a smack on the butt with a brush, belt or hand. It started being punches in the face, Head slamms, Hair pulls and ect. My life was never a fairy tale. In fact far from it. It made me deppressed and stuff. I always cryed my self asleep wondering when the s**t was going to end. My dad was bad on drugs and alcohol and we never new what would happen next. Things began to get so bad that my dad used to make us Steal money and stuff from our own friends. I hated my life and in fact the people in it. So I turned to drinknig. Drowning the pain away! Im 15 yrs old and I was way to young to be drinking. My life was so messed up I didnt no what to do. I thought I was gunna grow up and be like my dad. To this day Im so afraid of men, I dont date, get close to or any of that stuff. I dont wanna grow up and have kids and put them threw that s**t. That story was the first of many things that have happend to me and my brother. Im just lucky now that we are out of that type of situation. I love my brother vary much.




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 Caroline

by Caroline
(Location Undisclosed)

From the time I was 6 years old until I was 11, my cousin, also a girl, and only a year older than me, molested me every single time I saw her. Some people do play "doctor" with their cousins when they're little. What I did was not just playing "doctor." Being forced to give oral sex to another girl at age 6 is not normal. Knowing all of the channels that show porn on your TV when you're 8 years old is not normal. Having no virginity because your cousin took it away with a marker when you were 7 is not normal. Being 17 and having repressed every single memory of this until now is definitely not normal. I very recently started telling people about what happened to me, and the sad thing is that I didn't even realize it was really a bad thing until I was around 14. I am sure that my cousin who did this was abused by an adult, because otherwise she wouldn't have known as much as she did. I hate that I can't have normal relationships now because I am secretly terrified of people touching me. On top of all of that, my father has emotionally/verbally abused me and my mother since I could talk. Today I got into a 20 minute shouting match because I was leaning on the wall and my father wasn't satisfied with that.I wish that I weren't this shell of a person that I am now. Tomorrow, I am planning on telling one of my close friends, but I'm scared that he'll just freak out about it. The last guy that I was friends with broke my heart because I'm so emotionally dependent on anyone I can trust even a little bit that I ended up loving him far more than he could ever love me back. I am terrified that when I tell this new friend, he will only break my heart like everyone else does. I have never loved anyone that hasn't hurt me. I hope that this one will be different. I would really like to be able to trust more than a small handful of 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 Zamaya J

by Zamaya
(USA)

Sold: When i was 4 yrs old,i was blindfolded and sold to this man,my mother gave me a necklace that said "te amare por siempre,mi dulce nina" which is i'll love you forever my sweet baby girl.my mother and sisters were crying the last time id seen them,and my father just kissed my forehead,they gave me to the man and he took me to this warehouse type building,there were other woemen and children there. some older,some younger. he told us that we were going to be his slaves,and that we had to learn how to please him correctly,or else.he told the older woemen to teach us younger ones what to do to a man,and gave them permission to beat us if we did something they did not like.as i got older,i got beaten the most out of all the girls there,becuase i would fight them when they told me to remove my clothes,mr. got mad when he heard this,he ties me down and told the others to throw rocks/dirt at me,this went on untill i agreed to do what they said,he'd also put me in this type of dog pen,and wouldnt let me out for days at a time.as i got even older,he started selecting some of us to get nude and allow him to take pictures or make movies of us naked,he'd gag our mouths and touch us. the beatings kept getting worse,and he'd bring men in to come in and abuse us,he'd have us line up,and then the men would select the girl he wanted,they were allowed to beat us,and rape us.if the man said they didnt like wht we did,we got beaten even worse to the point of near-death.or strangled.he took an extra intrest in me,he always had me sleep in his house on his bed.and i had to do what he said,or else he's choke me,or suffocate me with the pillow. i had to be up before 5 am just to make his breakfast,if it wasnt ready by the time he woke up,he'd beat my back with an electric cord,that was when i was 10. when i was 13,i was still sleeping in his bed,becuase he made me,but,he allowed me to go into town to get his groceries,he gave me a time limit,be back in 1 hour or else i'd have to sleep outside with the spiders and ants,i always came back,and when i was 14,i got pregnant with his child,he allowed me to keep it,i had a baby boy i named fernando,he beat me through the prenancy and the baby was having trouble breathing. things didnt get better,i barely had any time to spend with my baby,i was busy trying to please him.one night,he got frustrated with me,and he shook my baby,he threw him down and wouldnt let me go to him.he died 2 days before his first birthday. he blindfolded me and put me in a truck,sevral men raped me between stops,the we were on a boat,and he chained me to a pole,he left me there to die after saying "the world doesnt need a whore like you,i hope you die" someone found me,and let me live with them,they tought me how to read and write,and helped me get into school,thats me now.im in 9th grade,and i suffered from bipolar disorder,and PTSD,and im 16 years old.tha's my story,and i wanna say that,we should do everything in our god given power to help abuse victems,and to put a stop to monsters like him,and every abuser ever,it's just a horrible thing and i wouldnt wish it on anyone.so please,speak up against abuse,becuase monsters are real,and we gotta protect people from them,god bless you all,thank u




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Child Abuse Story From Texas Nan

by Texas Nan
(Texas, USA)

He came in and opened my legs and put his body in mine. He pushed and pushed and then grinned. I curled into a ball. He told me I should stop him. Once he kissed my face and touched my hair. He gently rubbed my legs and told me to lie on my back. He came in while i was sleeping. He touched me all over then got tired of that and brought me to the tub, took pictures of me taking off my clothes, saying "you need a bath. You're dirty." I woke up for real when the shower came on and I was alone. He showed me the pictures much later and said I should stop him. Some times he would sit by my bed at night. I tried not to sleep while he waited till I did.




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Child Abuse Story From Amber F

by Amber
(Location Undisclosed)

sometimes i think i deserved all of the abuse i went through. I find it funny that teachers and the police say report abuse but when you do you get called a lier.i am 17 now. i was abused by my so called dad.
The abuse started when i killed my mom. she bled to death after having me. Thats when i got the name killer. My dad started spanking me at 4 months....with a belt at a year old i would get hit in the face. at 5 years my dad would use his wip. He also would sell me to men and they would do stuff to me for being bad. from the age 6 to 10 is a blank hole. at 10 i found out what abuse was and the police officer told us to report it ha what a joke. i told my teacher about the wip and the guys she told me to stop lying, so i showed her the marks i got in trouble for lying. I decided to go to the police they found the wip and still didnt believe me. the day the police came my dad hit me in front of them. When they left my dad called 3 friends and they raped me then he beat me until i was trowing up blood. you know my dad never told me he loves me of hugged me to tell you the truth i dont think he knew my name it was always IT or killer. He always told me no one wants me here no one loves me. you know i still to this day can't trust a teacher or a cop.




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Child Abuse Story From Jessica

by Jessica
(Location Undisclosed)

Okay so my mum's had a drinking problem ever since i was little. She abused me and my dad when i was very young. I can only remember odd bits and pieces from when i was younger. On my fourth birthday, she decided I wasn't good enough to have dinner and when i asked for some food she threw me into a wall, told me she wished i'd never been born and walked out in an attempt to commit suicide. I think she chickened out in the end though. I sat there on the stairs crying my eyes out because i thought my mum was going to kill herself and it was all my fault. A few weeks later she threatened to stab me but my dad stood in the way so i survived. My dad was my protector from then on. I remember having nightmares about people killing me and my family for weeks after that. My next memory is when I was around 6 or 7. My dad tried to confront my mum about her drinking problem which didn't go down well for obvious reasons. I remember sitting on the stairs to afraid to move incase she found out I was awake as I listened to her throw a frying pan at him and burn him in hot oil.
Nowadays my mum and dad constantly humiliate my brother because he has mental problems and is a compulsive liar. However hard I try I am never good enough for my dad so now i have no protecter anymore. I recently told my boyfriend about my parents, the drinking and the abuse. He's an amazing help if i need someone to talk to or a place to stay if things get to bad. He's a secret from my parents though because I know it will only get worse if they find out. I made him swear not to try to help me or ever tell anyone about what goes on in my house and he's kept the secret well. So no one apart from him knows about what I go through and I intend to keep it that way for my parents sake. I still love them and I wouldn't want them to get into trouble over something as little as me. I guess some people are just more lucky than others.

Yeh so thats my story

Thanks for listening peeps xx




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

this is the first time I've talked about it.When i was six my dad did something it was scary. i remember going in his room and him showing us movies. i say us because it was my sister too. we never talk about it i don't even know if she's old enough to remember it. i don't know why i let him touch me. It started off with him rubbing me and my sister. He'd do it till i started to fall asleep. I'd lay there and let him i never knew what it was. Him and my mom were divorced i never told. we'd visit on the weekends..
after a while i'd ask to go outside he'd say yes if you do this for me he'd make me give him a blow job. i didnt know any better. one weekend we came over and he took me in his room and said he wanted to try something new. He made me lay on the floor it was white tile and he penetrated me. it hurt. i just stayed there.
I'm 17. i dont feel right with boys. I dont even like the subject of sex. for while i used to masturbate i never knew whhhy. i'm scared there is something wrong with me.
the sex ting wasnt the worst i live with my mom and her boyfriend he's crazy and hurts me with belts and things but my mom lets him hit her too. I have 6 about to be 7 siblings it's scary i dont want them to grow up this way. no one should have to. I feel wrong like everything is my fault.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed

by Name Undisclosed
(Alabama, USA)

i wasnt raped. but, i was sexually abused. a 29 year old man, tricked a 12 year old girl, into believing he loved her. he was gonna be with her one day, & they were perfect together. they were just like the perfect relationship, that just would never work. she was head over heals in love with him.. & he knew that. & he knew what she wanted to hear. he knew. he told her all the right things, & she believed.. eventually, he kissed her. & as you know, a 12 year old, that hasnt had her first kiss, let it happen.. & it felt good. she liked it. she felt comfort. she felt loved. eventually, kissin got old with him.. and he was wanting pictures of her, naked. of course, she did it, unwillingly. but, how could she tell him no? she couldnt. she loved him. & wanted to do whatever it took to please him. he was her concern. no one else. so, pictures lead to talkin about sex. he called her a tease. he said she would talk about it.. but when it came down to it.. she wouldnt do anything. she was a tease. tease. tease. tease. until, eventually.. she got tired of hearing that.. & did what? gave in. they had sex together.. what did this do? it confused her. in her mind, thats what adults did when they loved eachother.. thats how adults showed there love.. so, she had to.. this all confused her. she felt stronger with him, as they continued to do it.. multiple times.. eventually, she told her friend because DHR got involved.. & she got scared.. so, she told.. & her friend told her to tell her mom, so she did. this girl, was me. i will never forget the love i shared with him.. even though.. he didnt love me.. i did love him.. he took everything from me.. everything that means something.. i will never let someone take control of me again.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed54

by M.E
(USA)

I think the movie "Precious" is about me: 
Well I didnt have my fathers children but everything else happen to me. I can remember being about 3 maybe 4, thinking the normal thing to do when "Big Daddy" got home was to meet him at the door with my mouth open, first he would kiss me with his cigar tasting mouth and tongue and hearing him say "ohh bid daddy had a rough day princess can you make me feel better?' and him shoving his smelly penis in my mouth hearing him say "aah thats daddys girl, yes now use your tongue, now suck a little hard and him ejaculating and him saying swallow it all sugar thats a good girl.Where was mom you ask, probably looking with agreement or excitement. I wasnt sent to school, I was to be home schooled because public school was so rough. Well my lessons were not the normal reading, writing and arithmatic. It was how fast I could roll mommas joints or how fast I could make her cum. I kinda forget from 5 to about 7. I remember my 7th birthday I was so excited because I heard them talking about getting me a bike.(so I thought "she can ride all night") The party was typical cousins, neighboorhood kids, hot dogs, chips, games, cake and ice cream. But after it was over the "real party" began. I was giving a bath and put on some nice smelling perfume and a tshirt and led into their bedroom and was told now I would recieve my present. I was told to lay on the bed on my back with my legs open, they took turns giving me oral sex at first I was confused because I only did it to them I thought thats what kids do for their parents to make them happy. So I did what they would do to me when I was giving them oral sex, I grab the back of their heads and moan and ooh and ahh and moved my hips up and down really fast. From about 8 to 12 I was basically there sex toy any and whereever they wanted, Like I said I was so used to it I thought it was normal so I (it sickens me to say) but I started to enjoy it. I remember them saying oooh look how wet she gets now, that pussy is popping. It was to the point I started to asked for it. I would hear him coming up the steps and I would get wet, or if momma was watching tv and gave me that look I would drop my pants open my legs and push her face in there and do the same to her. It wasnt until I was 14 and got my period I knew things were not right. I remember going to mom saying Im bleeding from my goody spot(thats what they like to call it)and my dad saying "damn now I cant f**k her no more cuz she might get pregnant.

It all stopped when my Uncle got out the Army and come to stay with us. He came home from a job and was hot and sweaty he sat on the couch. He said, I had a rough day in the heat. I walked up to him and say well I can make you feel better and dropped to my knees and begin to unzip his pants. He said what are you doing. I said I always do it for Big Daddy when he had rough day and for momma. Everything else happen so fast, yelling, screaming, furniture flying. The police coming, us going to court. Talking to a counseler and her telling me it was not my fault and parents dont do that to their kids. Well that was about 7yrs ago. I moved to live with my uncle and his then girlfriend now wife. I went to school, had friends, even a boyfriend. Now Im out on my own and sometimes find myself thinking about my childhood. It frightens me to have kids, scared of the myth I heard those who were abused, abuse. I asked to have my tubes tied or my uterus removed but the doctors wont because I havent had kids. So to all the survivors, Keep ya head up, your heart open real love will fill it soon....




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed55

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

The Dreadful Secret: 
My mother married my stepfather when I was 2 years old. I'm sure event started back then, but my earliest memory is being 4 years old. I remember - after the incident, finding my mother. I just wanted to be close to her. She sensed something was wrong and tried to get me to talk, but I wouldn't. She then went into her bedroom to confront my stepfather. Bein a small 4year old child, I remember hiding by squeezing myself between the wall and a dresser.

I don't know what happened between them, but I do know it didnt make any difference. My stepfather continued to molest me and my 2 younger sisters.

I am the oldest girl, my next sister is just 1 year younger than me and our 3rd sister is 6 years younger. He always found opportunities to abuse me and my 2nd sister. Usually separately, sometimes together.

One incident, I believe I was about 9, he laid plastic on the floor and positioned my second sister and I in a particular way, then commanded we urinate on each other. Another incident, he spread honey on my 2nd sister and told me to lick it off. When I refused, I wound up huddled in a corner crying as he did the task himself. There are countless events to speak of. All occurred up until I was 16 years old.

Needless to say, we were perfect children and never missed a day of school. If we were sick, we were home, alone, with him.

My second sister and I were(are) best friends and always did everything together. When we became older, we wanted to attend after school functions like dances and sports and we secretly agreed that we can both be out of the house at the same time, one of us had to protect our 3rd sister.

We did our best to keep her away. Whenever we noticed she was not accounted for we immediately set out to find her. That was his ploy - he'd tell us "go take all of your clothes off and wait in my room" then 30min or an hr later, when he could manage it, he'd slip away and join the victim. 2nd sister and I knew to look for this. And we were able to stop many events.

One night, the day before my 16th birthday, I heard his usual creeping in the middle of the night. I held my breath as I heard his footsteps and wondered whose bedroom door he would choose tonight. This night was mine.

He crawled his naked body under my sheets and I curled up into a tiny ball and cried. The 2nd day, I told 2nd sister about this.

A few weeks later, 2nd sister did it. She saved us all. On that night, 2nd sister had a sleepover at a friends house.

The next morning, state troopers showed up and my door. I opened the door and they asked to speak to my mother. I woke my mother up (she worked nights) and I instinctively knew. I began dressing my younger siblings and collected my diary. I came back down the stair prepared. The troopers hadnt say anything other than "we need you all at the station" but I knew.

In the back of the Trooper car, my mother asked me "You knwo what's happening dont you?" and I shook my head yes and wouldnt say anything more. My poor mother was clueless.

After being interviewed our family was finally united. I hadn't seen second sister that whole time. My mother and I went to pick her up at her friends house and all I could do was cry and hug her and whisper "Thank you"

And all she could say is "Mom, I'm sorry that I ruined the family"

That was a huge turning point in my life. I am 32 now and seem to live a normal life. Afterward, I find that it is not so difficult to talk about but rather more difficult for those I love to understand.

My husband becomes angry when the subject is mentioned. He speaks with venom about the man i call "my father" and corrects me "you mean step father". Second sister also becomes enraged when he is mentioned.

Sometimes, I just want to talk, and be heard without being judged. Tonight was one of those nights. I decided to look it up on the internet and found this site. Thank you, for creating. Thank you, for giving an outlet.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed56

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

im not really sure that i should be writing this down at all, or that it actually is abuse (i really do wonder) but here goes: i'm 15 yrs. old, and my mother is very detached, seems like she really doesnt care too much about what im doing, as long as it doesnt make her look bad in any way. another thing that she tends to do is avoid conversations with me on any terms but her own, and those are very few and far between( i.e, only when she thinks i've f***ed up)

i dont really recognize any of the listed signs as applying too strongly, but that could be either because my dad and stepmom are also in the picture, and help quite a bit, or because its not abuse.

im not really terribly upset, or sad, or for that matter anything, while im typing this entry, so i cant say that im afraid of them finding out i put this online,or ashamed, but point standing, it doesnt feel quite right

but i digress; also, i really havent heard her say anything remotely affectionate (i love you, good job, ect.) since,i was too young to remember, if at all. no hugs, not even around her friends. more of a "not seen, not heard" kind of deal, except with the element of being expected to help out, converse politely, if spoken to, and so on. she also remarried, of course after asking me "if it was ok with me", or in other words, if i was going to make it too much of a hassle for her to feel it be worth her efforts of faking the asking me "permission". hes really not much better, and alas, she has only gotten more ignoring since they married.

note: none of this is exxagerated, if anything, i didnt put everything down, for the sake of time,and the fact that i dont want my brother to see this, and hes in the other room as i type

any feedback would be appreciated




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed57

by From a 14-year-old
(Location Undisclosed)

Im just very curious... Child abuse is a very serious thing. Yes, but it wasnt years ago......do u think that abuse didnt effect kids as much as it does effect kids now? Not in serious cases but like mild cases.... It effected me a lot and i had the luck of haveing a school cou selor to talk too... But years ago school counselors werent for that.... So apparently they werent needed. So do u think tht it effects people morethese days then in the past.. And not sexhal abuse... Thats too extreme i mean more like mental and physical.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed

by Name Undisclosed58
(Canada)

As a child, I was sexually abused by my brother's friends. I was gang-raped by them while my brother stood and did nothing. These same friends would come in my room at night while I was sleeping and fondle me. I was an adult then, but had just lost my father from a heart attack. I lost my mother from cancer. I hope that someday they read this story. I will never speak to my brother again in my life. He was adopted and I regret my parents ever adopting him. I hope that someday they realize what they did to me. They have children, and I wonder what they would do if someone did that to their child. I believe in karma. What goes around, will always come back to you.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed59

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I'm sorry. That's what people always tell you. When I have bruises that I cant hide, i hear them say it. They suspect the truth, they think they know how to help me. But what if I let them help and I end up in a worse place?
But I took that chance and let somebody help me, they called social servies, I never talked to them much, but they scared my parents stright. But nothing changed really, for a while i didnt get hit, but i felt the same-helpless and alone.
Its always there, the memories of what happened, I see them when I close my eyes haunting me. I remember her coming home from work, having had a bad day. I was no longer a little girl, I could have easily fought back, but I let her hit me over and over, until I was left bleeding on the floor.
We walk through our lives smiling and happy but the memories and thoughts of what has and will happen to us haunt us and will for the rest of our lives. We know the truth of how the world is, we harden our hearts and let nobody in. All secretly wishing to be loved. To all of you who have been through the unthinkable. I'm Sorry.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed60

by Name Undisclosed
(USA)

I dont whant to tell any one how old im or my name i just hate whant is happeing.it feels bad i dont know how to explayn it it just feels bad. my mom and dad kinda like me so the problem is not with my mom and dad im an only child my mom and dad work a lot and are not home much.i dont know how to start this.i remember my dads brother moved in with us. i cant remember when he starded but i think it was 5years old i think my perents where at work all the time. and he would look after me he was nice i would play with him all the time nothing bad would happen i would come his hear and i gess i just whanted some one to like me and he was there. so i remember one day befor i had to go to school he asked to to show him what i had im my pant i would say i have to go to school he told me just let me look just fast i sed no he would ask me every day but i would say no.i cant remember how long it took or what happen i just remember i was about to go to school and some how or unuder he was laying on the cauch i remember i was in the cauch under he blenket and he had his hand in my pants. i dont remember much just being late for school. he left i dont remember where i whent to but agen when i was 8 years old he moved back in whith my perents. i was not scerd of him i just did not remember what he did to me back when i was 5 so he lived with us he would always stay with me and he would always be nice he would buy me things like sigerets and beer i thot it was cool and my frends would also think it was cool i would give theme sigerets thay would smoke one day i was playing with him i cant remember exactly what we where doing but i think he was lifting me up and was using me as whatse so i dont know how it happend i ges i was moveing a lot so he codent keep strate so i just layed on top of him and he starded to move his had up my pants and when he did i would move douwn and giggol but he codent put he had in there. becus i kept puling it out so he just stuck his holl and in my pants and starded to lol and he pooled it out at the time.and than suck it back in than at that time i did not giggol any more he told me its was ok becus he alredy stuck his hand in there. and he told me it was ok becus i was littel and its ok to touch littel kids there so i let him he did not do any much more than that for like one year. than my perents moved to a biger house and he also moved with us i feel bad talking about this relly bad but ill keep going. when i was like 9 1/2 is when i moved to are new house he still looked after me pick me up from school and take me out to eat my perents would pay him too look after me and gave him $$$ so we could eat. my perents trused him a lot he would sleep in the same room i did.i remember one day my moms frend doter was over and would stay over for month. one nite i was under a blencket with him and he puled my shorts douwn and starded to touch me all over in freont on my but and my moms doters frend was talking to us as he was touching me she starded to see that his hand was moving a lot and lifted up the blencet and i qickly put my shorts up and she later asked me was he touching you there and i told her no becus i did not whant her to tell any one also later he asked me did she see us i told him no she did not see us.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed61

by Name Undisclosed
(USA)

I have yet to forgive or forget, It started when i was 6, i lived with my cousin, he was married to a women with 3 kids, two boys and a girl. I was the odd one out because i wasnt their sibling, it started as neglect and vibral abuse, my cousin and his wife were always at work, I was the youngest, so i guess the easy target. They use to keep me from eating, and if i would eat they would do things like put dog hair in my food, they use to lock me in a closet for hours. My cousin's wife two sons, i think they were like 12 and 14, they would make a tent in their room and ask me to come play with them, it was ok at first until, they ask me to play the you show me yours and ill show you mines , i was only 6, they use to make me play with their thing and they would touch me, and make me take my clothes off, they never raped me, just made me touch and play with them, I dont know if they made their sister do this or not, but they were there and didnt stop it, but one day she got on top of me and started kissing me and she left a mark on my kneck, which they call a hickey now today, but i was kicked out of the house, 6 year old kicked out, my cousin didnt even ask me how i had gotten it, and my aunt called me a fast girl. I then moved with my sister, there it continued started as vibral abuse, she would all ways tell me no one wanted me, no one loved me, that i would always be alone. that i was ugly, she made sure i knew that i was ugly, and that my hair wasnt long enough. I think she was jealous of me as i got older, i was always the skinny girl and i guess she had issues with her own looks. She would make me wear baggie clothes to school and she never did my hair i had to do my own hair and i could never talk to boys, never experience dating, or even childhood. Her excuse for beating me, was because i would get in trouble at school, i would get in troule at school cause i knew it would upset her and it was my only way of getting some revenge then she would beat me for little things not washing the dishes, not getting along with her kids, her kids would lie on me about everything. She started to fight me when i got older i was around 13, she would acuse me of liking her boyfriend, remind you i am only 13 years of age, They were in their late 20's, and her boyfriend knew this was going on and never said anything i hated him as a man and resent men more and more each day whenever she got mad she would take it out on me exspecally if she got into a agruement with her boyfriend, she would always slap me in my face, in my mouth, hit me in the eye, she would throw things at me as in like plates etc. anything she could grab. She would put me out side for hours as of punishment, she would leave me at home or take me to my aunt house, while she and her family go out i wasnt aloud i wasnt part of the family she would say. One time we got into a fight i was 16 and i was tired of her hitting me. She popped a blood vessel in my eye, and kicked me out of the house. I was homeless at 16 no where to go no family to turn to, I lost my virginty at 16 sleeping with guys just so i could have a place to sleep, just so i could eat, just so could feel wanted and loved. I also remember when i was like 7 my cousin would blind fold me and let me play video games i dont remember much, and still dont understand, but he would touch me, and he would rub something on my lips i never actually saw his penis didnt even know what it was at that age, but i think that was what it was. I never told anyone, because my sister also was experienced this by him and she told but no one believed her. I use to think she was lying because i was in denial and didnt even believed it happen to me. I sometimes regret not taking up for my sister that day. Im living day to day with revenge and hatred for my family, i have yet to seek help, i find myself to embarass that my family would put me through this pain. I want to forgive and forget, I am now 19, I have a 18 month old son, and Im so scared that i might end up doing things to him that my family have done to me.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed62

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

before you read anything i only have one problem with my life everything else is alright and both my parents do love me well i know my mum does anyway. im 16 and my dad always had a temper on him for as long as i could remember it was like a switch one second be fine the next he was right in front of face shouting at full volume at you. i mean he was always really nice and would buy me things and took interested in everything i did . it got to about 3 years ago when things started going properly downhill i mean mum and dad had their rows but what family doesnt. but my dad soon became constantly grumpy shouting and lashing out at the slightest things mum put it down to stress at work and that is still her reasoning now 3 years on. only things arent just him shouting in our faces, he was always so keen on my sport i mean i was top 10 in the country at my athletic event however i admit my training took up alot of time 2 years ago he started becoming very anti it telling me i was useless at it and my training was tearing the family apart, he was the one who would come in from work and sit straight in front of the sofa then call either mum me or one of my two other sisters in to do whatever he asked them we are basically his slaves he takes no interest in us he blocks us from social networking as otherwise we spend too long on them and do not social with the rest of the family when there is no family left, but you got used ot it i mean being shouted at for doing the slightest bit wrong and being told your useless and whatever yes it brought me to tears a lot but i got on with my life and didnt let anybody ever see me hurt my friends saw me as bubbly and chatty no one ever saw the broken down crying me. this was alright i dealt with the family life and shouting and then it must have been about 6 months ago he had the odd lash out of violence it would ever be very much as i dont think he realised what he was doing but that kind of sent me into and over sensitive mode i mean i would still be me to my friends but it had got to the point where every night i would sit on my bed and just cry and cry after he had shouted or hit me, and because of this i turned to self harm. i would cut myself along my hip so it could be hidden by my underwear and clothes. it had got to the point where he blamed me for everything that was wrong, he shouted and hit my mum and then because i was angry at him but i couldnt say what i really thought in the fear of being beaten and have him go crazy i would get angry at other people and found my patience being reduced because i had some much anger hurt and emotion filled up inside of me. today i have a wonderful boyfriend and one other amazing friend who both know what goes on and are there for me to talk bu talking to others doesnt solve what is going on behind the closed doors of my house but i have asked them not to do anything as if i do then i lose what i do have as if my dad went or my parents split up i wouldnt be able to live the life i do, i am putting up with it for two years to finish school and then hope to go to a far away uni however i am worried about leaving the rest of my family at home, i know this might sound spoiled wierd horrible or whatever but i have every day of my life a person who is supposed to love me shout accuse hurt threaten hit reduce me to tears and there is nothing i can do about it.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed63

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Internet emotional abuse: 
When i was 9 i started to tchat on the internet with a boy who was 16.He created a little world and played with my feeling i dont remember realy clear what he did but i do remember all the time i cried and thinked of commiting suicide and cuting my self...and my father was alway yelling at me and my sister and brother telling us that we were never doing what we should and i feeled like he was the only one that could understand me and my sister was the one to tell my parent that i was doing bad to myself and that this boy was not like me and i went to the hospital with my mom.Now i am 13 year old and after him 3 other boy did the same.




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Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed64

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

My uncle always acted strange around me like staring or trying to touch me one night we were all camping so when it was time to sleep i was next to him(5 people in tent)and me brother was next to me.i wasnt asleep but anyway i started to feel him rub my leg then he started going up my leg,then he was rubbing me down there.then he put his hand in my underware and started to play with my vagina!i was in shock i didnt know what to do so i just pretended i was asleep?the next morning i pretended like i didnt know what happened(im scared cause idk if he new i was fake sleeping or he thought i was enjoying it)then it was night again and my back was facing him he tryed to do it again .but i wouldnt let his hand on me agsin so i didnt face him so he couldnt do it...




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Child Abuse Story From Ashlie

by Ashlie
(Canada)

when i was born i was 3 mths early. when i was 9 mths old my mom choked me to death and i was dead for many minutes. i got shocked back to life and lived with my gradmparents till i was 6. when i went to live at my parents, it was hell. my mom beat me, lied about me to my dad, starved me, and i haD TO CALL MY BROTHER"DAD" SHE ALSO WATCHED AS MY BROTHER DUNKED MY HEAD UNDER WATER Wile we swam. i am now 15, and i live with my dad and step mom. i have had a chance to be a normall person for a year and a half. thank you.




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Child Abuse Story From Debs

by Debbie
(England, United Kingdom)

It really did happen: 
Your mother is suppose to protect you from danger and creeps but being married to a man with no education , who smokes and drinks and thinks he know everything and always right, treat his two kids like prince and princess, you are left feeling left out, what do you do - hope for the best. I was seven years of age when he abused me, my mother knew from the start, always getting beat for one thing or another, being called names and really suffered at his hands, being punched repeatedly time and time again.

I wet my bed until i was thirteen, and stuttered as a child. Left me feeling alone. Anything goes wrong in the house i was punish for it, even though it was their faults -i still got beatings, I had bad period pains - went to the chemist to buy anadin my mother says that i've been with some boy - her husband says that i was lying and got more beatings, my mother chose a man over me and believe everything they told her and i would get a beating for it. To date my mother does not love me like the others, in fact she looks at me with disgust and hates me because she married my father- who was very violent towards her, she used to call me a little witch. Especially if she (my mother) works night at the hospital back in the seventies, i would get a serious beating, and raped over and over again.

i called the police once, I had explain that he has hit me for the last time but he ran out of the house, my mother walked in and ask "What is going on" laughing out nervousiness. "Your husband has been doing his handy work again" i said she did not ask if i was alright but she waited until the police had gone and then laid into me with a belt, i could not believe what had just happen - i had no way out accept to run away if did that, i would get more beatings, when he came back into the house, they argued and he came looking for me and gave a beating again. i tried keeping out of his way but he cames looking for me.

when i left home i was glad, i was pregnant at 18 but because i had a hole in the heart i couldn't keep the child so i had a termination, all my mother could think of what was the neighbours thinking, it was always about her,keep up with the jones, everthing in its place evrything must be clean and tidy, spoke properly, dress smart. and yet i would still get a beating.

Even when he forged my mothers signiture to get a second mortgage, he came looking for me and gave a beating and said it was my fault - that i eat too much and need too much clothes my reply was "What about your two children don't they need feeding and clothing too" i knew what was coming next.

he had numerous affairs especially one named J who lived in Greenwich, she was not ugly or pretty, but he had slept with her my mother was upset, good i thought perhaps she will leave me alone. no not the case.

Whenever his friends came to the house they used eye me up and down, a guy named L came up to tried to touch me and i threw water overhim and told to leave me alone "look at what you done to me, you soak me" he went downstairs told him what happen he came up the stairs kicked open the door and beat me bust my lip and kicked me in the back.

when i reached sixteen, i have had enough i boiled some water in a pan and he came for me and i threw it at him and told if he don't leave me alone that i would kill him. left me alone for a year even though i left home he found me and raped again and a punched him several times he was shocked and realise that i was getting stronger he was getting weaker, but still tried to violent towards me.

After i had my daughter, he bought some clothes and baby food "i don't want it " he seem shocked "you are not her grandfather, in fact you are nothing towards her at all, leave her alone, do you understand"

Being a women in my own right the one thing i said i will never do, is beat my children and kept my word on that. I don't drink or smoke don't take drugs except medication for my heart.

To date i do not accept as man into my life that easily, i watch closely and listen to his words until i feel alittle safe but even then i just don't trust at all- it is hard for me. Although i have two children i looked after them very well but have to admit it was hard work and coped well.

Although he has been dead for about five years or so, i still sleep with the door open (my bedroom door) but that my worst fear in case he will came back but he is dead.

My family do not talk about it for the fear of hurt feelings at least i would get some kind of acknowledgement but i won't, but they do love to kick you when you are down or ill, i can put up with most things and some things i can't but thats just life.

emotionally living each day is a blessing that i have cope with the situation, therefore i keep myself to myself and i like 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 Bee

by Bee
(Las Vegas, Nevada, USA)

It all started as an infant as my big sister reminds me i honestly remember since i was 3 since the big thing happen. my father was an alcoholic verbal and physical abuse man when he would drink he would always start by hitting my mom then my sister and brother and i till he got tired, although my dad never touched me it still traumatizes everyday. my story is not about my dad though its about the person that was suppose to protect his a lot younger sister, my brother. age 3 my parents had a huge fight then it got quiet everyone got in there separate rooms. i could hear breathing and crying in every room 5 of us kids 4 girls including me and are oldest only brother age 13 at the time i went to my mom to help me go bathroom she said ask your sister, did and she was too busy crying under the bed she was 11 at the time so i went to my brother, huge mistake but it was going to happen sometime. he took me in and locked the door grabbed the scissors from the counter sink and pointed the scissors to my throat maid me take off my clothes and raped me he covered my mouth the whole time and touched me. i don't understand why my mother never found out since she bathed me but the abuse went on for 7 years. i did not tell anyone. i felt as it was my fault and he would try to bribe me and buy me stuff. my mom would always say i was his favorite that is why he always loved bugging me, trying to kiss me on my head even when i was 17. even when i was in 3rd grade i got sexually abused by 2 5th graders in my school bus. then age 16-17 i got raped drugged at a party because i sneaked out from home to party since my dad never ever i mean not even walk our front door only go to school and work is the only places i ever went. lucky i meant the love of my dreams and moved with him the day of my 18th birthday. i see a psychologist now and have Post-traumatic stress disorder. i am proud of myself still being alive after all this and being strong and not doing my goals as my psychologist tells me i am one of her strongest abused girl she has talked to going to college and being able to have sex and doing my goals.but i am almost a married woman now and i am still ashamed i am still dealing with the pain. i know those that did bad are now suffering for example my father is now alone living with my brother because we all left them. my brother which i don't consider him a brother anymore has never had a girlfriend or gone out to hang out with anyone and is almost 30 alone suffering with my dad. they deserve what they get. I wrote this to tell everyone be strong don't let them win. My dream is now to help every one i can before I die. sure i feel like dying sometimes when i wake up from those horrible nightmares, still urinating my bed but i am not going to die without being strong and beating this thing. my best choice i have ever made was going to talk to someone she has helped me out already even though Ive only had 7 sessions with her. i have read books and done exercises to help me heal and they have seem to work as well. a excellent book Ive read is called A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse by Laura Davis (Author)and Ellen Bass. i hope reading this will help you get the help and courage to not let it control you. I have my bad days and good days but i try to relax to music and talk to my fiance and that always helps. my word to all mothers is always be careful where you kid is even your own family can touch them. Abused women i just want you to be strong for me we can all do it together and beat these things so that we win. 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 Clare1

by Clare
(South Wales, United Kingdom)

I was about 3 years old my mother took me from my bed and give me to my father: 
i must of been about 3, my mother took me from my bed in the middle of the night while my 2 brothers and sister were sleeping.. she took me in my parents bedroom and my dad was sitting up in bed smiling at me.. my moters naked body got back into bed and she left me in the door way, she said in a nasty voice , she s havin bad dreams again , i remember thinking i wasnt having bad dreams.. i got into there bed and tried to cuddle my mum but her back was to me, i remember the freckles on her back, i remember the hurt she didnt want to cuddle me... all i can remember after that was me holding my nightie up to my chin and my dad leaning over me by my side with a smile on his face molesting me.. my mother was very cruel to me and i think i was drugged by her for my father so he could molest me and i wouldnt remember ... im 36 ive had terrible drug and mental health problems, im doing my best but it still affects me.. thank you for reading my story.. cld




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Child Abuse Story From Amaris

by Amaris
(Location Undisclosed)

Who here can remember what happened to you when you were three years old? Hardly anyone can. I barely can, but I do remember clips.

My father began molesting me when I was three years old. When he gave me showers, he would spend too much time washing my lower regions. Things only escalated from there.

I remember being locked in my room for days when I was about four, not allowed out for anything, food, water, or to use the bathroom. It was a punishment. When I was finally was allowed out of my room, my father gave me a shower. He didn't spend much time washing me, no more than 15 minutes if I remember correctly, before taking me into his bedroom. He laid me down on the bed and touched me, saying I'd been a good girl for taking my punishment so well.

I was molested with his hands a few times a week for about a year or two. As time passed, that grew boring for him. He stepped it up a notch when I was five or six. One day, he took me into the bedroom and laid me down on a blue towel. He then took a dildo out of a big, black trash bag full of them and rammed it inside of me. The towel was to catch my blood after he broke my hymen. The more I cried, the harder he would go, telling me to shut up all the while.

This continued for another year or two. When I was seven, he began full out raping me. Since he was so much taller than me, he put me in the doggie style on the edge of the bed and stood behind me. He raped me a few times every week until I was eleven.

At age seven, I was also molested by my uncle, who had moved in with us for three months with his family. My uncle had married my father's sister, and had a little boy and a baby girl at the time. He forced me to perform oral on him during the three months he stayed with me.

I began cutting myself when I was seven. It was the most eventful, horrible year of my life. I wouldn't stop cutting myself for twelve years.

When I was nine, my father took pornographic photographs of me that my mother found and still has. I was homeschooled until I hit high school, my father a stay-at-home dad and my mother working as a full time waitress five days a week from dawn till midnight.

I began blocking out the memories of my abuse almost as soon as it started happening. I never knew you could forget something while it was going on, but I'm the proof you can. By the time I got my period at age eleven and my father stopped molesting me, I had forgotten everything he and my uncle had done.

Once I started high school, the first time I'd ever been in public school, and my mother divorced my father, I was often abused. All the blocked memories of my molestation came back at age 15 when I was raped by my first boyfriend. He physically beat me, raped me over twenty times, and threatened to kill me if I ever left him. I now attend college with him.

Within the time span of two years, I was raped and molested by five different people, two of which were female. I trusted all of them.

The last incident occurred when I was seventeen and got high on pot for only the second time. My ex boyfriend pressured me into doing it with him and I agreed. After we were both high as kites, he raped me violently. Since then, I haven't touched the stuff, or any other drug. I refuse to be around it, and won't date anyone who does it. A few months later, I got drunk and almost was raped again. I have been only slightly drunk since this once.

All of this has affected me in horrible ways. I'm promiscuous and always have been since I was sixteen. I feel like I need to be in a relationship because it's the only time I'm worth anything. I am currently twenty and still going through this healing process. I don't see myself in a good light because ever since I can remember, my father told me the only thing I'd ever be good for was lying on my back. I have severe PTSD, Bipolar disorder, and clinical depression. I'm also a mild hypochondriac.

I recognize these things about myself. Some I don't know if I can change. Some are currently changing. But all I can say about my abuse is that I've been abuse free for three years and plan to keep it that way. I am a survivor who wants to be a therapist for other abused teens. I'm majoring in psychology to get my MBA at William and Mary. I WILL help others get through what I'm still trying to overcome.




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 Emma G

by Emma G
(Basildon, United Kingdom)

I got Emotional and physical abuse by my father.He didn`t even seem sorry.He made us homeless.He would swear every night.




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

by Kimberly
(Location Undisclosed)

Life sucks, will always suck and I know there is no God; stop tell me there is a God - life just sucks: 
Im not going to tell how old i am. its hard to tell this but ill do it.i cant remember how old i was when it happend but i think like 5 or 6 years old. it was my dads brother he is 35years old that did thing to me i remember him always whanting to touch me in my pants and me telling him no. but one day he did and i dont know how he did it i just remember him touching me betwin my legs and telling me it was so soft i remember him doing it to me for like 6 months than we moved and he moved back to CA back to his wife and kids. i remember when i was 8 years old he came backe to liv with us i did not rmrmber that well what he did to me back when i was 5 or 6 so i was not scerd of him at all. i rmember he was like super nice to me would play games with me and pick me up from school. would take me out to eat and would buy me and my frends beer and sigerets and almost anithing i whanted my perents work a lot and are out of the country a lot so they would pay him for everything that i would need food and anithing. i gess my perents think its beter to trust his brother than a stranger but only if they know what he dos to me. its hard to tell what he dos to me but i will any ways when i was 8 he starded to touch me agen and told me it was ok becus i was small and its was ok to touch kids in there pants. he would only touch me that was it till my perents moved agen to a biger house and he moved with us he would stay in the same room i did. and every nite would touch me he did this for like 1 year. later he would tell me to sleep naked i did not like it i was afrade my perents would come in and i just did not like being naked so he told me he would buy me somthing or tell me he would not hit me if i did what he whanted so most of the time i would sleep like that but would always wake up and put my cloths back on and go back to sleep. i some times would axedently pee when i would sleep naken and i dont know y i would pee on him and i would tell him sorry he never made me feel bad for doing that to him i dont know y i do this only when i would sleep with no cloths on. so when i was like 9 he got a camera and would tell me to take off my cloths and he would take pics i did not like that but he would not hit me if i let him so i did. it was not as bad but it got much much more bad its hard to tell this part i hate it so much when he did this to me. i rmrmber when it stardrd he told me he was going to stick his finger in my a** i was like no plees he told me he would go slow and it would not hert and told him no and told me he would hit me so hard if i dident so he forsed me and he did it i hate it so much i felt sick super sick like throwing up and having to go to the bathroom super bad he did this to me a lot that nite i would have to get up and go to the bath room and after that nite he told me i was his becus he did that to me i dont get it what he ment but like all day he told me that you are know mine. i dont know what to do it suck so much i hate when he is going to do that it was ok if he touched me it did not hurt but when he stick his finger in ther even with like loshen it still sucks i hate it so much i cant even like put it in woulds i can only say it makes me sick in like a super bad way and some times i cut well i like cuting but i hate my life i just whant to die soon my perents dont know what to do with me becus thay this theres somthing wrong. i go to child mental health for cuting but the DR one time aked me if some one has touch me i always say no i dont know y ppl always say just tell some one its not that EZ just to tell i always whant to tell what he dos to me but i cant its not EZ like ppl make it look like ppl are stupid i hate ppl that say just tell thay dont know how it feels so stuppid ppl stop saying that its not EZ. when i rite my story i feel kinda beter so i try to do it like ones a week in my notbook that i keep super hiden. some time i like look at othere familly and look at there kids and wish i was in there familly i dont crar if there are poor and im rich as long as it did not happen this is the hardest thing to do i think i dont know how to describ it. i like that i starded school like two weeks ago its cool.i dont know some times i think if my perents where more home this would not happen as much so like every nite i like wish my perents stope working and stayed home but i know this is never going to happen so i gess ill just keep wishing. and keep riting in my notbook so i can feel beter and keep cuting and see what hapens i gess nothing its like super hard for me to stop riting so ill just stop bye.




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Child Abuse Story From Tiffany N

by Tiffany N
(USA)

I was 5... My oldest brother was 10... I was raised/am being raised in a Christian home. I am one of 5 children... I don't remember exactly when it started but i know i was about 5 and was very confused as to why my brother wanted me handcuffed, i thought he was just goofing off and it would be fine, until he pulled down my pants...then i knew something was wrong but he told me it was my fault because i had let him handcuff me and if i told mom or dad i would get in trouble, i believed him.. he then touched me for awhile then let me go.... i thought it was the end, i didn't understand. a few days later he came back, this time saying that since i let him do it once i couldn't tell mom now because she would be furious i had let it happened. he then made me do w/e he wanted to me, sex, my first blow job was to my brother-now the very thought of doing that is repulsive to me, i'm 17 and people constantly ask stuff like why i don't do that, it makes me gag., he would play barbie and ken with me... anything they did we had to do (and he wrote the screenplay) for years i lived this way, no one knew, i finally told someone after 4 years, my parents promised it would never happen again, they told me i would never be left at home with him, they broke their promise and the abuse started again, everyday for the next 3 years my brother raped and abused me, my parents would find out and get mad at me for not telling, if i told they would get mad at me for not stopping it, i hid from my whole family and still hide my heart to this day, no one knows what exactly happened, my parents don't care enough to ask how i am, they pushed it under the rug and expected me to do the same, its impossible and i'm so tired of being alone....




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Child Abuse Story From Stephanie

by Stephanie
(London, UK)

My mother was poor. Our family was poor. My father was dead. We only just had enough money to pay for our run down cottage. Things were tough when I was young. Only, that wasn't the half of it. Because we were strapped for cash, my mother let men sexually assualt me and my 3 sisters for money. I was the youngest daughter, but they started on me when I was a tender age of four. I would have horrible flashbacks in the middle of an English lesson and have to rush off to the school nurse pretending I had a stomach ache just so that I could cry with the pain I had experienced. As I grew into my teens, I became a sex addict and I'd lock myself in my bedroom for hours so that I could watch my stash of pornography and masturbate. I still haven't told my friends or the rest of my family my ordeal and I still have explicit thoughts, but pouring out what happened, has made me feel releived and I'm slowly recovering.




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 Bobbie Jo

by Bobbie Jo
(El Paso, Texas, USA)

I was in 8th grade when it happened. I was only 13 yrs old. I used to stay after school for track practice and would take the activity bus home. There was a boy on my block who liked me but I never thought of him that way. His best friend and I had a thing at that time.

It was dark out when the bus stopped at our stop. When we would get off the bus he would walk in front of the bus on the other side of his street to get to his house. That day he decided to "walk" me home. As we walked he tried to hold my hand but I refused. Just as I was about to pull away he grabbed my arm and squeezed me so hard it hurt. I turned to yell and one of his friends came running down the street. I thought he was going to help me but he held my arms and put his hand over my mouth. I felt his hands caressing my body. I couldn't see because of all the tears streaming down my face. I heard his belt coming undone.

It was then that I knew what was coming. I was only 13 but my mom had alrdy had the whole sex talk with me. I remember starting to kick my legs and his friend pushed me down on the ground and put all his weight on my back. I felt his hand move to the front of my pants. He unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. He pulled my pants down and it happened. When he was done, he and his friend stood up and walked away laughing. They left me there on the side of the street crying with my pants halfway down.

About 15 mins later, once I composed myself, I walked into my house. I went along my normal routine and left no reason for my parents to think anything was different. I took a 2 hr shower that night. I felt dirty and disgusting. I went on with my life thinking that I brought the event on myself. That it was my fault that it happened. That was until I was a sophomore in high school.

I began to have reoccuring nightmares. Nightmares so horrible I would wake up screaming. They felt so real and they were always about the same thing. Rape. It became an everyday thing. I became afraid of falling asleep and found myself in my own freddy krouger movie. I went to high school with that boy. I would see him with so many different girls and I would tell myself "I hope he doesn't do what he did to me to any other girl, if only they knew."

It wasn't til the end of my senior year that the nightmares finally became unbearable. I knew I had to talk to someone. The first person I told was my boyfriend at that time. He took it lightly and never mentioned it again. Then I went to real help. The guidance counsler at my school. I told her everything. I felt relieved and she had me talk to a professional therapist.

It is september 24, 2010 at 5am. Im 18 years old now and I still have the nightmares. That is why this is being written right now. I had my nightmare around 1 and I still haven't gone to sleep. I still live with this nightmare and it doesn't seem to want to leave. Maybe one day i'll have the courage to confront the guy who made me afraid of the dark and sleep. Maybe one day I'll be able to tell him about all the pain he has caused me. Maybe one day I'll get a good nights sleep. But until then, I'll still be his victim.




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 Hopeful

by Name Undisclosed
(Massachusetts, USA)

I dont really no where to start. I dont remember how I old I was for most of my abuse. I do believe that abuse is never the victims fault but, I am a seducer (if thats a word). I mean, i must be. I have been abused by so many people, how I could you not call me seductive? I remember wanting some of it. I am still seductive.. I still love to seduce people. I love the feeling of someone else wanting me. I get turned on when i watch rape stories on TV. I surprisingly was not turned on by any of these stories. Maybe its because the feelings on this site are raw and ..i wish that i felt the way some of these people do. I do remember most of my abuse pretty vividly but, i dont feel sad about them. I cant get myself to care. I want to want to cry.
I remember one of my brothers having me perform oral sex on him.. just once (that i can remember) and just for a second. He was just a year older than me and he realized it was wrong and stopped immediately. I know we were young.. maybe 8 & 9
I remember my other brother (this situation is a bit more off-putting to me because he was a bit older) trying to have anal sex with me. He never penetrated me.. im not sure he knew how. I think he must have watched some pornography. He just rubbed his penis around for a little while and then left me alone. I only remember it happening once. He is 6 years older than me and i believe i was probably around 6.
I am not bothered much by those because, well.. we were kids.. and kids repeat what they see. I have read online that a lot of things/experimenting goes on by siblings but that it should be a trial thing and not a continuous incestuous relationship. I know it wasnt right but, i forgive them.

My uncle also abused me. I was his little angel. Everyone knew i was his favorite and he was the BEST! He took me everywhere.. so many adventures and hung out with me all the time. I loved him. I still see him.. i do feel a little resentful towards him but, i would never show it. I have told my father that i think he is creepy (he questioned me as to whether my uncle ever did anything to me.. i said no). I will never tell of the abuse. I remember being in his kitchen and him putting me on the table and performing oral sex. I dont remember liking it or really even wanting it but, i told him i did. he was never forceful or aggressive. I just gave it to him. Im sure it happened more than just that one time but, thats what i can remember. I was probably around 8. Apparently i was something special back then because nobody could keep their hands off of me. The only other thing i remember with my uncle is me telling him that i know how to masturbate.. i dont know where i learned but once i did, I couldnt stop. I offered to show him. I felt embarrassed when i did and i put a big teddy bear over me while i did it. I cant remember if he said anything to me.

Maybe all of this stuff is in my head? maybe im crazy? where would all of this come from though? No, im not making it up. I wish I was.
I feel like im writing a book here but, thats not all.
When I was 12 my brothers friends moved in around the corner.. they were a great couple with a little girl who was 4 or so. they were nice to me and soo great. I loved that little girl (in a non-sexual way). I was over there all the time. The man formed a relationship with me, kissing me, sneaking to see me on his lunch breaks, having me rollerblade to his work site if it were close to home. It never really got too far.. a lot of making out. One day i was laying on his couch and he put his hands down my pants..he penetrated me with his fingers. it hurt. i just sat there and pretended i was sleeping. and when he started talking i pretended i woke up and he was asking "does that feel good baby".. i said I dont know i was sleeping and he said "dont worry baby, the (his name) touch is a good thing" . I dont remember much after that but, i was no longer interested. I dont know how i stopped hanging out over there but i did. A few years later, i found out that he was arrested and put in jail for molesting that little girl i loved so much. I could have told, i could have saved her. Could have but, i didnt.
When i was 13.. my softball coach formed a relationship with me much like he had. He told me he loved me.. we kissed.. we talked every single day. i was obsessed with him. I wanted him. I knew it was wrong, i loved it. I loved that he "loved" me. That went on for years on and off. I use to go to his house and watch tv with him, he told me "nobody can know about this.. you know that right?" i told him i would never tell..im no idiot! ha! Only once did he put my hand on his penis.. i was scared.. i said no..i left.. there was a little more communication but not much.. i then resented him..i now feel anger towards him but, i still talk to him sometimes. i never said anything. everyone knew he was a creep. I should have told, i could protect other young girls. i know im not the only one. I told my school counselor that i thought he was weird once and she told me she knew a girl who was abused by him. there was my chance.. i could have told. i laughed and said i would never let that creep touch me. HA. i think she knew though. She questioned me a few times about him and other people.
When i was 16.. i began dating.. a lot.. a lot of older men.. at one time.. i dated a 39, 32, and a 26 year old.. all at once. I stayed with the 39 yr old for 8 months.. and the 32 yr old for 5 years. the 26 year old was brief and we are still friends. im not resentful towards any of these men. i seduced them.. i wanted them. and i loved the 32 year old.. i just recently left him. i do love him. I have slept with 24 men while i was with the 32 yr old. Now.. i like older men. I cant imagine dating anyone my age. I am physically and mentally attracted to older men. Its sort of sick...
My senior year in high school ( i was 18)..i slept with 2 of my teachers. i feel like this stuff only happens in the movies.. my life could be a tv show. one episode per person who shouldnt have touched me.
I now can not stay faithful.. i have serious social issues ( i lie compulsively when put in a situation with new people just to make them like me). i am unable to keep relationships for long periods of time because of all my lies.. i have to drop them before they find out the truths. I did have a drug (cocaine) problem for about a year when i was 17-18 but, i dont anymore. i quit on my own and have been drug free since. I never drank a lot and now i dont at all.
Why would anyone believe my stories of abuse after admitting i lie? I dont know. I dont think i could make this stuff up though.
Anyways..i am 21 now.. and in general..i am pretty happy. I do sometimes think about counseling but, maybe il write again when i get to that point.
I'd really like some feedback. I want to hear peoples thoughts.




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 Allison M

by Allison M
(NJ/Portugal )

Physically and Emotionally: 
Well it all started when i was four years old or younger my dad and mom use to spank me really hard with wooden spoon because i wouldn't eat. Then when i turned five i went into kindergarten and you know you start learning your ABC'S and numbers well i wasn't slow or any thing i just couldn't memorize the numbers and letters then when i needed to study if i missed say 4 or 5 i get yelled at and and they would spank me. I would cry like crazy until i finally got it right. After i did they would give me candy??. couple years go by i was 11 years old. my mother would tell me that im worth less. some times she would go psycho on me and my sister she looked like she got poised or some thing. my father would just spank us really hard for nothing. my sister told me when she was little like 4 and up they use to beat her because she couldn't get math or any thing. so then my mother told us back then i would got put in jail for beating her just to get her times tables correctly. Im now 13 going on 14 life is very emotional ive been called emo but i didnt cut my self!. once in wile i will cry in my room and lock the door. Hoping for my parents not to come up. My parents look like every normal day parents just came back from punta cana my father got extremely wasted he was very abusive to us. And so that my story of my life so far some times i think to my self should i tell the school?? i told my best friend, he was gonna make me go tell them but i wasn't physically and emotionally to admit it. im depress been suicidal but i think to my self every time i try killing my self i say to my self i wanna see me have kids have a family grow up go to collage experience the world how it suppose to be. And reason i havent told the school because i feel bad if they go to jail. My 14th Birthday is coming up September 26 lets hope i dont get yelled at for some reason or spank for no reason. I would love to make sure its normal this year. This is my story. so far of my life.

Locks of Love:Allison M




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 M

by M
(Ontario, Canada)

My mother is an alcoholic and addicted to pain killers, and it has been destroying my family since before I was born. As the youngest child and the only one still living at home, I seem to always end up as her punching bag- not literally, because she has never physically hurt me although she has thrown things at me before, but figuratively because I am constantly put down. Nearly every night I am told that it's my fault that her and my dad fight, I'm told I'll never get anywhere in life and I'm told that one day my mother will 'be gone' or dead, and that it's my fault, and she has tried to kill herself a couple of times. Sometimes she will just look at me and say 'It's all your fault' when I haven't done anything wrong. I overdosed on tylenol once and tried to kill myself, and even though I was in the hospital for a couple of days she still wouldn't stop drinking even though she promised she would. I think I'll be stuck with her until the day she or I die because I feel too guilty to leave my dad alone with her. I don't think I'll ever be able to have children because I won't know how to be a good mother because my mother wasn't, and I don't think I'll be able to ever have a healthy marriage either because I don't know what a healthy marriage is supposed to be like. I just feel like there's no hope for 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 Hope

by Hope
(USA)

It all started when I was around 4 years old. My mother left my father to go on the road with a truck driver. She picked drinking and partying over me. She was in and out of my life from the age of 4 to 7. She would bring this man around me and I can never forget what he did. He would wait until my mother was not home or when she was sleeping and he would come into my room and touch me and make me touch him. Then it led to worse, and he raped me when I was seven. I went to my mother and told her about it and she just slapped me in the face and beat me where I had bruises all over me and told me that the man she loves would never do something like that to me and sent me to my room. Later that night he came in my room and said I had to be punished for telling my mother and raped me again. This kept happening for two days. Two days later I went home to my fathers house. I told my father what happened and he informed the authorities but to this day he was still not arrested. My father moved me away from him and my mother. Two years later, when I was 6 my father got a call from my mother and she said she had left that man and wanted to see me. My father was very reluctant on wanting her around me but later agreed. She came over and in front of my father acted like she wanted to be a mother again. A few weeks later told my father that she got married and wanted her new husband to meet me. After my father met him he agreed to let him meet me. He seemed very nice and like he wanted to be a part of my life, he made my mother be a mother and that is what I wanted for a long time. Two years later when I was 8 everything started, and if I should say it like this, my life was hell for the next 4 years. At the age of eight my stepfather started touching me and making me touch him. Then it got worse and one night when I was 9 he tied me up to the bed and for 6 hours did nothing but torture and rape me. My mother was away for the night. When she came home the following morning I was too scared to tell her fearing the same thing would happen so I told her I got the marks from playing with friends outside and told her one of the kids got rough. She said ok and went straight to bed, my stepfather came up to me that night and told me if I said anything he would kill my mother and my father. I never said anything and the following weekend went back to my mothers house and she went away again on a saturday night. My stepfather repeated the torture and abuse by had two friends over to join in while I was tied up. This went on for 4 years until one day they beat me so bad that the marks were visible to my father when he came and picked me up. I would not tell him what happened, I just told him I never wanted to go back to my mothers house again. He knew something was wrong but never bothered me about it, he just did not make me go over there and we eventually moved. Now 30 years old, I have four children and was with their father for ten years and my 10 year old came up to me and told me that her father was touching her. I immediately called the authorities and he was arrested. I found out that he has done more then just touch my daughter and has done it to all four of my children. He took a plea bargain and only got four years, I think that it is wrong that a man can do this to children and only get four years. Now my children have to live with this like I have had to my whole life. I cannot even go around a lot of men without feeling so uncomfortable I just walk away and I fear my children will feel the same. I feel like I have not kept my children safe, even though I did not know what was going on. All I can do is just cry at night feeling like I was not there to protect them, I just do not know what to do anymore. I put all my children in counseling but none of them will talk about it and I know how they feel. Please if anyone can give me some advice on how I can be happy again and not feel like this. I feel ashamed, lost, lonely, and do not know which way to turn anymore. I want to be able to be happy for my kids and not keep having these stupid and crazy thoughts go around in my head that I just need to end it. I know I need to be here for my kids. Please can someone just let me know they know how I feel and give me some advice. Thank you for taking your time to read 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 Cleo S

by Cleo S
(New Zealand)

Living in Fear!!! 
I am sixteen years old and the oldest of five children. Reading these helped me know that i'm not alone.I have been abused ever since i was born. Even before i was born. I have been the victim of both emotional and physical abuse all my life. This may not seem like much as i bet most of you have or know someone who experienced this. But i was the only one my father hit.
He never hit or touched my siblings, it was like he had some personal hatrid towards me that he needed to inflict on me, to punish me. When i was young i looked alot like my father sharing his small beady eyes dairk hair and quiet persona. Compared to my siblings blonde hair and big eyes. People used to pass us in the street and say how gourgeous i was and how much i looked like him, and i hated it. Then he would punish me sometimes, it felt like he was punishing me for looking like him and perhaps he was.

The emotional abuse struck me hard leaving a perminent scar across my heart while my physical scars and bruises covered my body.The emotional abuse got so bad that i struggled to look at myself in the mirror as i would turn away in disgust just at the sight of myself.
I couldn't talk to people i struggled to go and ask for directions, i never spoke in school or answered questions. The physical abuse was easy to hide as i was very clutsy and constantly tripping over my own feet so made a good excuse not that anyone ever found my marks or bruises.
Even my own mum never found them i hid them so well learning quickly the wonders of foundation and baggy clothes. I never got on with my father i tried to gain his love for me, desperately but he couldn't love me. I was unlovable.

He would hit me alot the emotional abuse was always there, the hitting started at a young age it was worse when we were alone and it seemed like we were always alone. When we were in England i was hit alot.

When i was about 11 we moved to New zealand. The hitting stopped for abit, but that didn't mean i wasn't waiting for it. I couldn't fall asleep until i knew he was asleep even then everything seemed to wake me up the groan of the walls, someone moving in their sleep, the creak of the floor boards still to this day i can't sleep until everyone in the house is asleep and even then everything wakes me up.

Living in fear of what was then the inevitable. I remember when i was alone with him he was hitting me and he shoved me against the wall bashing my head into it i fell to the floor smearing my blood over the walls.

I still remember him looming over me a dark presence staring at me shouting that i was worthless that i was nothing.He hit me not only for my pains but for others their pain my pain their wrongs my wrongs and
for that i was being punished for everything, but i didn't mind. Rather me than them i always thought.

He left me on the floor to clean up my blood from the wall before my family came home. I remember not long after we left my father. Me and my family were having fun laughing and messing around. When my mums boyfriend said something and i replied with a sarcastic comment. We were laughing when he went to ruffle my hair and pushed slightly on my head. In a friendly gesture, but i was off balance already and fell hitting my head on the wall reopening my old head wound. I shrank to the floor crying huddled in a ball trying to cover my face remembering my father looming over me. My mums boyfriend tried to give me his hand to help me up but all i saw was my fathers fist raised as memories flashed before my eyes, he tried shouting my name to get my attention through my haze. But all i heard was the deep voice of my father shouting at me that i worthless and to look at myself wallowing in my own filth.

I remember being thankful that my siblings weren't there. At least they're safe, was all that ran through my mind beside the constant flash of memories that flowed through my mind. It didn't take me too long to stand and head to my room before the rest of my family returned. But not before cleaning up the blood that was on the
carpet and wall. After that i wouldn't let my mums boyfriend near me for 2 weeks. With the way family life was me and my siblings fell into a sort of routine taking on roles that some of us were to young to play but we did what we had to. People always say that me and my younger brother are really mature for our age.

But that was because we didn't have time to be kids. With never really having a father my younger brother who is just bearly a year younger than me, took up the role of the father and i took up the motherly role as mum was always busy in the other room arguing with our father. I would make the dinner alone most nights, cooking for everyone.

My brother tried to help were he could but someone needed to watch the little ones. I taught myself how to cook, no one showed me. I was never really close to my mum sure i love her but she never really understood what i went through, what i did to protect her, not just with taking the physical abuse but in looking after the others being an eleven year old cooking for seven people with no idea how to cook.

I would tuck in my siblings into bed at night comfoting them, my brother was great but i was just better with the kids. I would tuck them in
and we would all share one room together holding each other, listening to the shouts outside of the room. When we first moved away and i was 15 my little brother was 6. He wouldn't be able to sleep without me tucking him in, he would only do his homework with me. I used to sing to him at night to get him to sleep when he cried. Promising that i would never let anything happen to him and that i would always be there for him. Looking into the small innocent six year olds eyes. Me and my brother, only kids ourselves became the adults. My brother taught my younger brother that he had to stand up to pee. I taught all three of our younger siblings to tie their shoelaces and gave my two sisters 'the talk' something i'd only learnt about from watching a video on tv. We taught them showed them so much all we knew. I was so young and it still astounds me all the things i did and still do. All the things i hid and lied about.

NO ONE knew that my father hit me not even my mum. I kept it so well hidden to protect my family. My experiences have effected me adn my family greatly my brother still needs me to tuck him in and do homework etc... along with the rest of the family. I became the support person through everything somtimes it overwhelmed me because really i wasn't just dealing with my pain i was also taking on my siblings when i was hit to protect them or when i held them while they cried into my shoulder admitting their secrets and pains, even my brother the father figure took refuge in me. Telling me his school and home problems when no one was around. When i had to hold my mother while she cried, the closest person i had to a parental figure. Telling me everything that was wrong. I became the one everyone spoke to. But had no one to speak to. The one that listened but had no one to listen. I became the rock. The brick that was strong and sturdy that no one believed could break. I never cried it didn't matter what bone i broke or were it hurt i never cried in front of people. Ever. Nowhere days when i walk in front of a mirror i don't pass it i gaze into it and stare at the person i have become. Tall, dark hair with slight bags under my eyes due to countless sleepless nights. I gaze into the eyes staring back at me filled with fear, hope, pain. Shoulders slightly slouched as if you could physically see were i'd once held the world on my shoulders still struggling even now. Wisdom from experience that seemed to seep from every pore, the small smile that was almost a smirk forming on my lips. Proud with myself that i fought and lived that I, an ordinary no one, walked the path of hell and came out the otherside. Catching a glimpse of the small scar just below the hair line and the bigger one across my heart. The constant reminders of my days living in fear.Of experiences that changed me forever, that i will carry for the rest of my life. Of my struggle, my survival.My never ending battle, My freedom.




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 Phil

by Phil
(Indiana. USA)

From approximately 6-12-years-old I was subjected to what I now feel were sexualized switchings at the hands of my aunt. Compared to others, I feel this story is hardly worth telling, because even in my own estimation it is fairly light. However, I thought I would pass it on anyway. I was born in 1950 and corporal punishment of children back then was about as common as brushing your teeth. However, I feel the ritual switchings that my aunt used to subject me to may have also had a sexual connotation for her. My aunt (my mother's brother's wife) was often left in charge of me overnight and on many occasions for several days while my single mother and uncle attended to the family business. Whenever I was to be punished, which she decided was required at the slightest pretext, the punishment was always the same and I was required to follow her set ritual. The ritual was that I was first required to go into my room and take off all my clothes and put on only my robe and slippers. After that I was required to go out into the yard and and pick my own switch for her to use on me. I was then required to bring it back in the house to her and watch while she swished it through the air a few times to make sure it was supple enough for its purpose. We would then proceeded to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom I was required to remove my robe and bend over the edge of the bathtub, with my elbows resting on the inside of the bathtub. She would then do a cursory lecture about my misdeeds and then start in on me with the switch. I would start to howl right away, but she was undeterred and continued to work her way up and down my bare bottom with her switch several times. When she decided the job was done I was allowed to go to my room and, if I recall correctly, I usually went to sleep after the switching.

It is impossible to describe the level of embarrassment I experienced during these punishment episodes, in addition, of course, to the pain of the switching. As a matter of fact, I never even told my mother, or anyone else about it for the simple reason that I found it so embarrassing. My mother also used corporal punishment and she was not the least remiss to use a yardstick, ruler or switch on my bare butt, but these episodes never had the formal ritual involved with them that was imposed by my aunt. Actually, I also had a fear that my aunt would tell my mother the details of my punishment sessions at her hands. I just didn't want anyone to know. As an example, when my mother would pick me up and make a casual inquiry about my behavior, my aunt would reply something to the affect, "Oh we had a good time, (went out to eat, went swimming, etc.) I had to give him a good switchin' once, but I think it really shaped him up." At that point my mother would scowl at me and say something like, "Shame on you!" and I know my face would be glowing red with embarrassment, shame and fear she was going to tell her all the details of the switching she had put me through. But she never did.

For years I felt nothing but fear and embarrassment about what my aunt had put me through, but in my early adult years I started to sexualize the experience and it was then that I came to the opinion that she was sexualizing the experience she was subjecting me to. However, my supposition could be without merit. As I mentioned at the outset, in 1950, corporal punishment was common and many thought that the embarrassment was part of the punishment. Thus the justification of having to bare one's bottom for punishment. Now days this looks crazy, but the simple truth is that up until about 1970 child abuse laws were pretty much non-existent in this country.

Aside from a few strange sexual quirks that I feel more people have than will ever admit, I do not feel that my psyche was irreparably harmed. I am well educated and comfortable with who I am. I am not blaming anyone for anything. I am not angry. I am just sharing my story.




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Child Abuse Story From Christine

by Christine
(Location Undisclosed)

The first time that I remember being abused was when I was still a toddler, I remember still not going to school and because I only had 1 sibling, I played with my neighbor. She was the teenage daughter of our tenant; we own several apartments next to our home so we had easy access. I used to go to their apartment to play with her; we would go upstairs to their bedroom and play dolls. The next thing I knew she was taking off my underwear and hers, too. She would lie on top of me and, of course, I didn’t know what was going. I thought we were just playing a new game so I just let her do it. I told my mom about it and I vaguely remember sitting on my Mom’s lap as they talked to her and her parents about what I said. I don’t remember much of what happened but I felt guilty afterwards because I was the reason they lost their home.
As I was growing up, what happened before never came up, no one talked about it, and they buried the topic deep under the ground. But it’s still here, inside my head. Next is of my big brother, my one and only sibling. When they tell stories about our childhood, they would often say that I was the good girl, I would just sit quietly in the corner while I played and when I cried they would quickly hush me and tell me to stop and I would. My brother was the opposite, they said it took hours for him to stop crying and unlike me, he wasn’t obedient. My grandfather once caught him choking me, I didn’t know what it was for but Grandpa told me that if he ever choked me again, I should tell him. But he never did it again, he did worse. I was still recovering from those experiences and my parents often fought during this period. One night, they suddenly had to leave, they were fighting as they were leaving, and I shouted, “Pasalubong.” Mom shouted back no then left with Dad. For a minute, my brother and I were watching TV and he suddenly became enraged, he started beating me up and told me to “face the wall and keep it straight.” Basically, he kept hitting and kicking me as I faced the wall, of course my body couldn’t be straight; no one’s body is perfectly straight. When my parents arrived late that night, I was still crying, my Mom was there, she knew I was crying, but she ignored me.
When I hear the word incest, it drives a screwdriver into my chest; it all feels so fresh to me. Ever since I can remember, I played stuffed toys with my brother. One night, as we were playing, he touched and caressed my chest, I didn’t know what he was doing, again, I thought we were playing a game. I remembered my first experience with this type of scene and immediately put my gray teddy bear named Zoe in front of my chest to keep him from touching them. It didn’t stop there, sometimes, he would wait for me to wake up and start molesting me, I fought but he was too strong for me. Other times, I would just wake up to him touching me and kissing me and smelling me. Years went on like this, sometimes he would stop, and then he’d start again. Especially when my Mom and Dad left temporarily for abroad, I remember I was in grade school then and it was summer time. We just moved to a new place and the only bathroom on the second floor was located in my room. He’d take showers in the middle of the night, as I was sleeping and I’d wake up to the touch of his hands exploring me. When I wake up, he’d stop then wait for me to fall back into sleep again and do it all over again. Besides the sexual abuse, the physical, verbal and psychological abuse was still there. For a few years, he stopped because my Mom went home. Recently, she left again and our Dad died last March. He was the only one who got to talk to Dad, I didn’t even get to see him and apologize and explain why he and I didn’t get along so well or to simply tell him that I loved him. Anyway, the verbal and psychological abuse is still very much alive right now. The sexual abuse stopped, so did most of the physical abuse. Or so I thought; recently, maybe 2 weeks ago, I woke up to the feeling of someone caressing my legs, I opened my eyes and saw him. I asked him, “what?” He didn’t say a word; instead he tried to kiss me again. I shrugged him off and managed to stop him, but I couldn’t sleep afterwards, I had to stay awake or he might do it again. After 30 minutes, he went back up and threw a piece of paper that said he was sorry and asked for forgiveness. A few days passed and I started talking to him again. But after a few days, I woke up to him raising my night gown. When he felt that I woke up, he immediately went downstairs. Again, I didn’t sleep right after that. The morning after, I saw a piece of paper that had the letters “SRY” on it. I didn’t talk to him for days. Saturday, he went downstairs and I discretely went another floor up, to where my bed is at. He went back upstairs and found that I had locked the doors. He walked around the outside of my room, his cigarette smelled inside my room. He walked around for about 30 minutes or so then went downstairs because I called out to him because I was supposed to throw him this stuffed Mirmo doll that he gave me that had a piece of paper that said, “Maybe in time I can forgive you. What you did all those years left scars. I can’t forgive you that easily. Just leave it alone.” But he wasn’t there anymore. Now, I don’t plan on talking to him, he’d just get the idea that I’ve forgiven him and he’d start doing it again. My only problem now is if I should tell my grandmother since she’s the one taking care of us now.




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 Patrick

by Patrick
(Charlotte, North Carolina, USA)

THE EARLIEST MEMORY I HAVE IS OF MY MOTHER HOLDING ME UPSIDE DOWN BY MY ANKLES ABOVE MY CRIB SHAKING ME. I IMAGINE IT WAS TO GET ME TO STOP CRYING. I WAS PROBABLY AROUND 1-1.5 YEARS OLD. THE NEXT ABUSE MEMORY I HAVE IS WHEN I WAS JUST OVER 2 MY FATHER TRIED TO DROWN ME IN THE FAMILY POOL. MY ELDEST BROTHER SAW WHAT WAS HAPPENING AND SAVED ME. THE NEXT FEW YEARS ARE A BLUR OF BEATINGS AND MOLESTATION BY A IN HOME NURSE ASSIGNED TO TAKE CARE OF ME AND MY BROTHERS AFTER MOM HAD BACK SURGERY UNTIL I WAS PLACED IN RESIDENTIAL FOSTER CARE WITH A FAMILY. THERE THE PHYSICAL ABUSE CONTINUED WITH BEATINGS, EITHER BY THE FOSTER FATHER OR OTHER RESIDENTS OLDER THAN ME IN THE HOME RANGING FROM SEVERE SPANKINGS TO PUNCHING, TO BEING WHIPPED WITH DOG LEASHES AND BROOM HANDLES. I STAYED THERE UNTIL I WAS 7 WHEN DSS DECIDED MY MOTHER TO BE ELIGIBLE FOR GETTING ME BACK. THERE THE PHYSICAL ABUSE CONTINUED, INCLUDING A BROKEN ARM, PERMANENT BRUISE THE SIZE OF A BASEBALL ON MY THIGH THAT I STILL CARRY TODAY FROM A DOG LEASH, TO SPLITTING MY HEAD OPEN REQUIRING 17 STICHES TO CLOSE. THIS ALL HAPPENED FROM THE AGES OF 7-11. THE REALLY HARD PART WAS THE INCEST THAT I WAS INTRODUCED TO DURING THIS STAY WITH HER. IT IS REALLY HARD TO ADMIT BEING AN EXPERT IN CUNNALINGUS BY THE AGE OF 8 BUT THAT WAS ONE OF THE SKILLS DEAR OLD MOM TAUGHT ME. THAT AND TO SURVIVE NO MATTER WHAT I HAD TO ENDURE. I TRIED TO REFUSE HER ADVANCES 1 NIGHT AND ALMOST PAYED FOR IT WITH MY LIFE. I DON'T REMEMBER MUCH BUT I DO REMEMBER MY MIDDLE BROTHER COMING BACK HOME AND SCREAMING AT HER TO STOP OR SHE WOULD KILL ME. I REMEMBER WAKING UP IN MY BED THE NEXT DAY FEELING LIKE I HAD BEEN HIT BY A TRAIN. THERE WAS LITTLE OR NO HELP FROM THE AUTHORITIES. I TOLD THE POLICE RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER WHEN SHE BROKE MY ARM THAT SHE DID IT. THEY DEDUCED THERE WAS NOT ENOUGH PHYSICAL EVIDENCE TO ARREST HER, TOOK ME TO THE HOSPITAL, GOT MY ARM SET AND CASTED AND RETURNED ME RIGHT BACK TO HER. THAT WAS A LOVELY HOMECOMING! ALMOST AS SOON AS THE DOOR WAS CLOSED BEHIND THE COP, SHE PUNCHED ME DEAD IN THE FACE. WHEN I WAS 11 I TRIED TO KILL HER TWICE IN THE SAME DAY. SHE CALLED THE POLICE AND THEY NEVER EVEN ASKED ME A QUESTION ABOUT IT. JUST TALKED TO HER THEN TOOK ME TO A CHILDRENS PSYCH HOSPITAL. I STAYED THERE 30 DAYS AND WAS RELEASED BECAUSE NOTHING WAS WRONG WITH ME. AFTER SHE SPLIT MY HEAD OPEN WHEN I WAS 11, DSS SENT ME BACK TO THE FOSTER HOME I WAS IN WHEN I WAS 7. THERE THE BEATINGS CONTINUED ALONG WITH A WHOLE NEW TWIST. AN ADULT MALE FOSTER CHILD THAT WAS STILL LIVING IN THE HOME AND THE FOSTER FATHER, WHO HAD RECENTLY LOST HIS WIFE TO CANCER, BOTH STARTED MOLESTING ME. NEITHER KNEW THE OTHER WAS DOING IT AND SOMETIMES I WAS MOLESTED BY BOTH IN THE SAME DAY. AFTER 3 YEARS OF THIS, DSS AGAIN DECIDED MY MOTHER ELIGIBLE TO HAVE ME BACK. BY THIS TIME I WAS 13. SHE MOLESTED ME ONCE MORE AND I REALIZED AFTER IT THAT I WAS TOO OLD AND GETTING TOO BIG TO ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN ANYMORE. I TOLD HER THAT IF SHE EVER TOUCHED ME AGAIN, I WOULD KILL HER AND THIS TIME I WAS OLD ENOUGH TO DO IT. SHE SIGNED ME BACK INTO FOSTER CARE THE NEXT DAY. THAT WAS THE LAST TIME I SAW OR SPOKE TO HER. I TRIED TO CONTINUE ON WITH MY LIFE, BUT EVERY DAY GETS HARDER TO FACE. I AM 44 YEARS OLD NOW AND NEED TO TURN SOMEWHERE TO GET HELP TO CARRY THIS MOUNTAIN ON MY SHOULDERS! JUST EXPRESSING IT ON THIS WEBSITE HAS BEEN A MAJOR ACCOMPLISHMENT. SO FAR THE ONLY PERSON I CAN SPEAK TO THAT UNDERSTANDS IS MY OLDER BROTHER WHO ALSO WENT THROUGH THE ABUSE AT MOM'S HANDS.




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 JKB

by Jessica
(Maine, USA)

I can't even remember how old I was when it started, I must have been about 8, maybe 9. I had known him for years because he was my best friend's brother. I would go to her house to play and he would be there. At first he would just tickle us and I didn't think anything was wrong, but then he started to touch me under my shirt. It felt kind of wierd but I didn't know what to do about it. After a little while, he started to touch me even more. He would even make me sit on his lap while my friend and I played a game, and the whole time he would have his hands under my shirt.

One day when I went to their house, there was a fort in their basement that he had made the day before. He told me that he wanted to play a new game but he would have to show me how to play. He sent his sister upstairs to watch tv and told her she couldn't play right now. When we were in the fort he told me that it was a lot like playing doctor but you weren't allowed to use anything but yourself. He said that means no clothes. I told him that I didn't want to take my clothes off, so he said I could keep them on as long as whatever he "examined" didn't have anything on it.

At first he just touched me again, but then he started kissing me and my body. I told him that I didn't like this game anymore, and then he started to pull down his pants. I got really scared and tried to run away but he caught my leg. I told him that if he didn't let my go I'd tell and he just laughed. He told me that I could have told him no at any time and that it was my fault. He said that if I ever told anyone they would think I was bad and that everyone would be mad. The worst part is that I believed him.

I'm 16 now and even though it happened a long time ago, I still haven't told anyone. I'm also still greatly affected by it. I've never felt comfertable going over to my best friend's house again and because of that we've grown apart. I still feel like he has control over me and now my self esteem is really low and I don't feel comfertable about being around men when I'm alone. My hope is that by finaly telling my story, I will be able to break the hold that he has on my life, and that I can finally get over 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 Namaste

by Namaste
(India)

I was born to real psychotic parents. My father was a alcoholic, gambler, chain smoker, voilent, abusive, physically and mentally voilent. When i was one month old my mom left me with my grandparents. she came to take me back only when i was 4yrs old.

My mom was very voilent she used to make me do all the household work. I just went to school and came back my mom would be away for work i had to open the fridge and eat the cold food. Only if i had lot of work then my mom would feed me enough otherwise it was always like take only one bread, dont keep eating, who will do the wokr. A pair of dress was bought only after 2-3 years.

No one used to visit our house so i did not know how to behave, how to talk with people, what manners was etc.
I had tough time dealing with people and still have. My elder bro was also voilent, abusive and he used to hit me badly.

I have developed quite a lot of psychological problems bcos of abuse i underwent. I have social phobia, social anxiety, fear, low self esteem, not able to make friends.

I have lost my career due to all this issues. My mother tried to ruin my marriage she tried to instigate my husband against me.

She instigated my mother in law against me. My parents are a curse. But i have forgiven them.

To set myself free.




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 LI

by Ll
(Location Undisclosed)

Im from a christian based backround. I had a good relationship with my mom and dad and sisters and brothers. I am the youngest child, now almost twenty with two beautiful little boys. I am engaged, but also divorced from a previous marriage from when i was 16. My father was abusive as well as my mom, but thats another story.

The abuse started when i was six years old, almost seven. My family moved across the state and we were temporarely living with my aunt and uncle and their two boys. Their oldest boy, I will call "A" was in his teens but i cant remember exactly how old he was. We had been staying with them for about a week when one night it was bedtime my parents told my sister to sleep with them. I thought it was weird because we always slept together but tonight i was to sleep alone on the pull out bed in the den. Every one went to bed and i fell asleep after a little while. A little while later i woke up with my cousin A spooning me and my pants pulled down, his penis in me behind. I didnt say anything at first, he was whispering in my ear that he loved me and weird/random things you would probably say to a spouse when making love. I asked him what are you doing? and he replied, nothing im just getting a cup of water. He then went to the kitchen and got the water and i pulled up my undies. He came back a few moments later and ripped my panties off and shoved himeself inside me. I began to cry and scream and he just kept going. He then got off and turned over and forced me on top of him, i tried to run to my parents, but then he put a kitchen knife to my throat, then my side and told me "ill f***ing kill you you little c**t, all you f***ing do is tease me!"

I did as i was told until he pushed me off and walked away. There was blood everywhere. I ran to my parents room and tried to open the door but, again strangely, they had locked it. they had never locked a door before. I screamed and cried and pounded on the door, and my dad yelled "shut the f**k up and go back to bed!" I yelled back to him "but daddy A hurt me, he hurt me and im bleeding, please daddy help me im scared.!!" My mom and my dad yelled at me to go back to bed and my dad said i dont give a f**k. i went back to bed and cried myself to sleep. a few hours later i woke up naked and in a bathtub, my mom telling me i had a nightmare. I went and followed her back to the den and watched her clean up the blood the best she could and flipped over the mattress. she looked at me and said "dont tell anyone, dont make waves in the family."

later that week we went to california for vacation at disney.

when we came back, we moved into our own home where A stayed often and the abuse kept happening. later down the road i became pregnant with his baby and my parents sent me away to give birth to my daughter and give her up for adoption. My beautiful baby girl. Most people hate the babies they get from abuse, I love her more than anything. She is my precious baby, my gift from God. It showed me that even miraculous things can come out of such hurt!

My life was terrible for a while, but eventually I moved on. He never got in trouble.

The part that kills me know is knowing he has kids. He has two beautiful daughters and his significant others has two sons. Had two sons is more like it. Last weekend while A was giving the two year old boy a bath, He drowned. Do i believe that? Not one bit. ***Lord please forgive me for not doing more with what happened to me, Forgive me for not saving that baby boy.*** He was the same age as my oldest son.




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 Olivia

by Olivia
(Location Undisclosed)

I think this place is a great outlet for so many people. No harm in me trying to tell my story too. My parents owned their own buisness when I was young. Being so busy you get caught up and important things take a back seat. My parents hired a guy to help out. Instead he kinda made things worse. Now this part kinda freaks me out. I'm not angry at him for what he has done to me. He was there for me (in the wrong way) when everyone else was too busy. He treated me like an adult. The person I am mad at is my mother. I did eventually tell her he was touching me but she brushed me off and said not to be so silly. She was disgusted in me. My mother is an amazing women who didn't and still doesn't know how to handle the situation. I just find it hard to live.




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 James

by James
(Location Unknown)

My name is James, Im 21 years old. I'm a United States Marine. And for about ten years I've been haunted by my past. Its Friday night and this is all I can think about.

Forgive me but I have been drinking slightly (very little), I find it hard to even think of my past let alone tell it without a little Whiskey. It started when I was 11 years old, actually I was 10 at the very start . . .My mother had been alone my whole life bouncing in between boyfriends, and I was happy for her when she finally found someone, for this stories purposes I'll call the man John.

John was seemingly a great guy. My mother was a model and very attractive so I never thought much of her boyfriends. But when I finally got to know this one he seemed like he really loved her. I had never had a father and I was happy when we went out to do things like father and son did. When my mom finally married John it was shortly after my 11th birthday, he and his son S that was 3 years younger than me came into our home. We lived a spoiled typical California life, John played the stock market and didn't have a job, he was apparently really good at it and made tons of money. He was always home, and I began to see the real John . . . He'd tell us to not wear shirts and we'd wrestle. At the time I though it was cool. He'd let us drink with him all the time...and we'd play these sexually suggestive games, all while slightly or very intoxicated. He portrayed this image of the cool guy, so never questioned some of the more uncomfortable times. But his son S, was always sad whenever we seemed to be having a good time. Sometimes he'd take him into a room and I wouldn't know what they were doing I would always be in a daze from drinking.

S would always come out crying after hours. I always assumed that he was being punished, but I could never remember him doing anything bad.

One day S had confessed to me what was happening to him, he told me that his own father would masturbate him and make him perform oral sex. Of course thats not what he said word for word but I made my assumptions based on the horrible details. Thinking back on it know, S was so young . . he must have been really confused.

Then when I thought about the things we used to do I realized what John was doing, letting us drink and all those games. 11 years old is not a real naive age, at that moment I saw the reality of what was going on. I was older, he hoped I would help him. But I was just as scared as him... My mother was always traveling. I didn't want to believe what I was hearing. But it all started to make sense. I can't say why I didn't tell anyone, I guess I was ashamed, I felt used and weak and didn't want anyone to know...John could tell I wasn't going to say anything, so things got worse for the both of use. He started 'making' us drink whenever my mother wasn't around, and . . .he did things.

Well, one day John was drunk and after my step brother. I can never get this out of my head. S came running to me and cried hard into my lap, holding me tight. I put S behind me and screamed at John to leave him alone. I had enough of seeing him crying and in pain, his own son. Then John grabbed me by my hair, and said to me . .
."you wanna take his place, you're more my type anyway."

I don't remember anything after that. I just remember waking up in the Hospital with the most throbbing headache you can imagine. My body wouldn't move and I wasn't breathing on my own. I had a punctured lung, broken ribs and a fractured skull. Other injures that are too graphic to say.

He had knocked me out and beat me up pretty good, before, doing the unspeakable. God, was S safe I kept asking, it was the only though I can remember now from that stage at the hospital. After several weeks of blacking in and out I gained full awareness. It was the day after my birthday. There was balloons still everywhere. I saw S and managed a smile. I saw John and my mother. At the time I was in such a daze, I mean I had no clue what happened to me.

After another week resting I awoke again feeling a lot better. I was awake and talking. S was there and we joked around about stuff. All the while he kept getting sad for any random thing. After seeing that look over and over, things started to come back to me. I remembered John and the things he did to my step brother and me. I came to the self realization that he must have been the one to put me 'here'. All I could hear over and over again was him saying "you wanna take his place, you wanna take his place, you wanna take his place????"

I fell asleep again for another 2 days. I can't recall, but, after that I awoke at home. S was by my side. After a few days I found that the story was that I was "found like that on the way back from school". Every police officer that came to our house, I just told them I couldn't remember. Again I was too scared to talk, even after everything 'he' put us through. I told myself thats what happened for years. Knowing in my very soul it wasn't true.

4 years later still, S and I was never touched again. . .John committed suicide when I was 17. No one knew why, but S and I had an idea why, I feel guilty for it. I felt like I was the one that made him kill himself. In retrospect I was...

We never spoke of that day 4 years ago, even now we don't speak of it. John wasn't bothering us anymore so I always played the head injury game and said I didn't remember. Not even S knows that I remember everything that happened to us. I hate that I was too weak to do something about it, too scared to tell this story. I feel even worse making S feel alone in all this, I believed that he wouldn't feel as much shame if "no one" knew. He's graduated and will be going to boot camp soon. The Marine Corps was my therapy, my new family cared for me. I'm glad S decided to join.

I think, one day soon I'll tell him. My head hurts when ever I think about that day 10 years ago,and I often have flashbacks of the gap between "that" moment and being in the hospital . . .if someone grabs my hair I'll lose my mind. My past burns but its always propelling me forward. I learned to turn those memories into this bottomless pit of 'drive'.

Fortunately I was able to live a normal life after the abuse, for some reason I get sad whenever I think of John's suicide. My mother has re-married and she's still happy. I want to keep her that way. Theres no reason she needs to know about it, especially now that John is gone.

Thank you for listening, I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts, I heard worse stories and am always curious as to how others cope. Thank you so much.




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 Karen M

by Karen M
(North Carolina, USA)

None of my friends or family know of this and not even my husband. My mother knew of some of it but I don't think knew the extent to which it went. It all took place in the 1970's and the amazing thing is I didn't consider it sexual abuse until a couple years after. I always thought of it as physical abuse. I was an only child to a single mom who married T when I was still very young. After the first few years we lived together he began spanking me with my mothers approval. I think and know now my mother was also intimadated by him. My mother had spanked me before and sometimes on my bare bottom but T began makeing me undress completely. I'm not sure how old I was when he began doing that but the older I got the more humiliating and painful the spankings became. I'm sure I must have told my mother at times but it just continued and I would be spanked over minor things I did or didn't do. By the time I was 10 or 11 the whippings were so severe that the humiliation of being naked was unimportant to me. He would make me do push ups and often force me to hold a book in each hand with my arms away from my sides. If I lowered my arms to soon for his liking he would swat me with the belt. The entire time this went on I was still naked and he would just sit before me as he scolded and ridiculed me. I sometimes had welts on my bottom for up to a week and the beatings were worse when my mother was out or at work. One time when I was in 8th grade he spanked me three times in one week. I was already bruised from previous spankings but it didn't deminish how severely he spanked me. He used his hand often but was more inclined to use a belt.

The happiest day of my childhood came just after I turned 13 years old. He and my mother seperated and were devorced within a year. I did talk to my mother several times about the way he spanked me but my emphasis was mostly about how painful it was. She probably knew I was naked or at least spanked bare bottom but, even I, thought more of the agony he put me through. It took a year or more before I began thinking it as physical and sexual abuse. Even though he never touched me in a sexual manner, I started thinking about the ways he would purposely humiliate me. It finally occurred to me the many ways he forced me to expose myself to him. I began thinking that the reason he hit me so hard was to make me unaware of the ways he would position me. He often made me put my head down on the bed with my legs spread wide apart. At the time I was in such unbareable pain I never thought about how exposed I was. I wasn't developed very well but when he made me hold the books out I always had to be facing him. The more I thought about it the more I remembered things he made me do. I always had to undress as he watched and do remember being more embarrassed after I started wearing a bra. When it was happening I think I was more fearful of the beating I was about to receive. Most of the time I was in tears as I took my clothes off thinking more about the whipping even when I was 13. He had no mercy on me when he started hitting me either with his hand or the belt.

My mother died in 2006 but T is still alive and still lives in town. I rarely see him but when I do he sometimes waves to me, which I completely ignore. He came to my mother's wake but I stayed in the ladies room until he left. I told my husband and my two sons I didn't want to see him but have never told them why. I dispise him even today, after so many years. What he did to me is unforgiveable. I will never forget the pain he inflicted on me or the deviate humiliation he put me through. My boys are older now but even when they were young my husband and I never spanked them or tried to humiliate them in any way. As a parent I can't understand how my mother tolerated it for so long and allowed him to punish me the way he did. Thank you for letting me vent. Its much easier to tell you things than it would be to tell my husband or friends. I must have been very naive those years but no one should do those things to a child.




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Child Abuse Story From Stella

by Stella
(Texas, USA)

The Abused and the Abuser: 
I don't know how to even begin, I haven't told anyone about this in 25 years... I'm 33 yrs old now and am a mother of a wonderful lil boy.

I had a great life from what I remember from 3mths old right up till 6, my grandma passed away when I was 6... that is also the time 'my life ended' 1983. My mum was married at 18 had my older brother, me at 20 and my half brother at 24, she was always busy partying and never took care of us... After grandma died, we went to live with my aunt, mum's older sister, she had two girls of her own. For some reason she took all her frustrations out on me, she would beat her older daughter too but not as frequent and as vicious as she did me... her younger daughter and the boys were never harmed. I had to clean up after everyone, I had to eat my own vomit once, I was pulled by the hair, dragged into the bathroom, thrown against the walls, slapped, all while the water ran so that my cries would be drowned out and my grandpa wouldn't hear.... Cut a long story short, I was physically abused by her from 6 to 15.

As my mum was happy doing her own thing and visited on the weekends, she'd bring us over to her place only to drop us off at a friend's place so she could go partying if the call came.... I was sexually abused at 9 by my mum's friend's brother who was in his 30s... I remember every detail like it was yesterday... he came into the room I was sleeping in with my brothers, we were sound asleep, I felt his hand on my shoulder tapping me to get up... when I awoke he just smiled and cuddled up next to me for a while then he told me to stand up, which I did, then he told me to take off my panties, beckoned me toward him and lifted me to lay on top of him, he began rubbing himself on me and it became fast and rough and I was whining in pain... I can't continue, it was over, other things happened with him over the years, but he never penetrated me with his penis thank god.... at 13 I went on a date with a guy who was 19, he didn't believe I was a virgin and demanded that I let him feel me up since I 'deceived' him by my dressing... whatever that meant...

I can't begin to describe the shame and guilt for what I'm about to write... I have tried to repress it for 25 years... it is consuming my soul... that same year when I was 9 I sexually abused my half lil brother who was 5! I asked him to lick me on two separate occassions, I never meant to do that to him especially since I was 9... I am truly ashamed of this and I don't know if he even remembers it. I remember the third time I wanted him to do that he was playing with his toys and he turns to me and says I'll lick you later and my mum heard it (was over for the weekend) and she questioned him and he told her and I got a good whooping for it and never asked him to do that ever again. I have always wanted to apologise to him over the years for what I did to him but till today I can't bring myself to do it... we have a great relationship, I'm closer to him than my 'real' older brother...

I'm not trying to make any excuses for what I've done, I've got to live with that guilt and worry that something bad would ever happen to my son... I would kill anyone who hurts him in any way... I'm just disgusted at myself!! :-(




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Child Abuse Story From Milly

by Milly
(Durham)

well when i was a baby till when i was 3 i got sexually abused; i can't remember much, but it messed me up quite alot; i'm 14 now, and its made a big impact on my life, i try and move on. but my dad ( the one that did it all ) trys to contact me all the time which is sick and pathetic. me and my siter couldn't take him to court as we were only young. he threatened us with a death to our loved ones. he'd try to kill us so many times,, my siter saved my life at one point. he had tryed to suffocate me but my sister stopped him. he made us do things we didnt want to.. he took advantage of us, he ruined our lifes. my sister got the worst of it all. but then a few years later my mam got another man, he abused us; i was only 5 so it was only 2 years after all this, he hit us. this was the time for me to get the worst of it. i knew if i told my mam she wouldnt believe me so i kept it to my self because i knew if i tryed to tell her i'd just get hit more.. he told my mam he knew what to do if i was kicking off, he hit me but places where my mam couldnt see. he used to kick me, punch me, hit my head off the walls, and pull my hair. i used to go to school and when the teachers and my friends used to ask what they were off i used to tell them that i fell over. i then had to start seeing a physicatrist, i told her that he hit me, she ignored me of course. he f***ed up at one point though, infront of my mam he lifted me up by my kneck, my mam kicked off with him, i couldnt move my kneck or my shoulders or head, she had to take me to the hospital, she made a excuse up as he stood there, and he used to beat her aswell, through plates around the room and grope her infront of me, aged 10, my brother aged 4 and my siter aged 12. then years later i finally told my mam, as i was used to getting hit and it didnt hurt so much anymore. so she kicked him out on new years eve... my brother was the only one who was his son, so my mam pushed for my step-dad to have him on weekends as he was his dad, he pushed that if he looked after my brother then my mam would have to have sex with him or the contact would stop, so of course my mam did, but now both of them are out of our lives. well theres 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 Bekah

by Rebekah
(Oklahoma, USA)

“Abuse changes your life. Fight back and change the life of your abusers by breaking your silence on abuse.” Patty Hopson.

On a hot summer cloudy day, I came home from a hard day at school. Earlier that day my dad told me not to drink any Coke because I would get in trouble if I did. Being the tween I was I went against my fathers order and grabbed a Coke from the refrigerator. I started the laundry and then went to sweep the kitchen floor. I heard my dad driving down that country red dirt road we lived on and I hurried as fast as I could to do the rest of my chores. By then, I had forgotten about my Coke that was sitting on the coffee table.

As my dad came in he dropped his keys on the vanity, went to the couch and turned on the television to NASCAR. He then called me over to take off his shoes. I walked over to him aghast. I bent down and started to untie his left shoe. He noticed the Coke on the table when I started to take it off. He got up angrily, the shoe jolting out of my hand, and yelled, “What the hell is this Coke doing out here?!” “I was thirsty.” I said awestricken. He then turned his back to me and went into his room. I stood there dumbfounded and waited for him to come back out to the living room. He came back out with a hanger and said to me, “Since I can’t find my belt I just got the next best thing.”

I was terrified and didn’t know what to say or do. I just stood there like any person would. He raised his arm and came down hard on my chest. I yelped and cradled by chest while bent over. He then came down on my back and I yelped once more and fell to my knees. I tried to crawl away, but he kept on hitting me with every move I made. I soon fell to the ground and stopped moving. Once I did, he stopped beating me with the hanger. He huffed, turned around, and went to watch his NASCAR. I sat there for a few more minutes and then gradually picked myself up off the ground and went into my room.

I had girl scouts at 7:30 that night, and I had to hurry and get ready. I took a shower and put on a lavender color long sleeve shirt, I couldn’t wear a short-sleeved shirt because that would show my bruises. Then, I put on a pair of some cut off jeans. I went out and told my dad that we had to leave. We got to Ms S’s, my girl scout leader, house right on the dot. Before I got out of the truck, my dad stopped me. He leaned over and said, “I’m sorry that happened tonight. You just need to learn to listen to me. I love you.” I got out and went into Ms S’s house with nobody knowing what happened that evening.

This happened when I was 12.

My dad smacked me around a few time from the age of 11 to 14 but the above story was as bad as it got.

My dad also sexually molested me as well. He just fondled me. I wasn't told to keep all this secret, my dad just knew I wouldn't say anything and he was right.

Eventually, I told my best friend who told the school and I told my mom. My mom finally divorced my dad a year and a half ago.




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 Terra B

by Terra B
(Minnesota, USA)


Nightmares Everyday: 
I was in kindergarten. My mother has had a rough life. She was sixteen when she had me and was going to give me up for adoption. My Aunt talked her out of it. She finished High School and my father did not want anything to do with us then or now. My mother then later down the road married and i had two sisters. This man she married was in the Navy. When I was about five we lived in California. I remember this picture so well it still scares me. I remembered where we lived, what type of house we lived in. He was gone alot, but when he came home I always cried. He would make me take naps in their room. When my mother would leave for work, he would walk into the room and lay next to me, touch my hair,my face, down there. Then he would take his pants off get on top and would masterbate and cum all over my stomach. Then he would kiss me and walk out the room like nothing ever happened.I would cry and cry and cry. Never told my mother. They divorced a year later and my mother remarried a military man. I was about five or six.I never did like him from the start. My mother had a son with him. When I was seven my middle sister was five and half and my younger sister was three and half my younger sister had gotten into my mothers make- up and smeared it all over the bathroom. He found out and started yelling at me and my middle sister. My younger sister was his favorite besides his son. He whooped my butt so bad i could barely walk or sit. Then he went to my middle sister, he had a wooden spoon and started hitting her in the face over and over and over. Then he started punching her in the face and hitting and wouldnt stop. I couldnt stop him I was so scared. My sister had asthma so bad she was having trouble breathing and sent us to bed. I could hear gasping for air so scared to move or get out of bed I couldnt comfort her hug her nothing. Finally my mother came home from work came in to give us a hug and kiss. She could hear my sister breathing got scared turned on the light and her face was in horror. My sister I could not reconize anymore it so swollen and black blue she couldnt open her eyes or breathe. We rushed to the hospital. The doctor told my mom if we would have waited any longer she would have died. I remember that day as if it was yesterday. I still dream about that night. He would put clothes pins on our tongues, ears, he made us go outside and grab a two by four to spank our butts.We finally got taken away and to live with the nightmare before this one. My mother had left him. She use to be so scared for her life and my brothers. He use to beat up on her and had taken a two by four and broke her ankle.My sisters and I ended up staying with their dad and my nightmare and my mothers first husband. When I was eleven years old my nightmare came into my room and raped me. He told me not to tell anyone.Then when i was about fourteen or fifteen I was so scared to go home I finally lost it and told a friend at school and they went and told a teacher. My nightmare was mentally abusive towards me before he raped me. He had gotten so mad at me for not understanding math that he put his fist through our glass coffee table and started calling me stupid and i was an idiot and he didnt know why he took me in when I didnt belong to him anyways. Finally we got out of there. My sisters were able to stay together but I had gone to stay with my Aunt. Which I had felt safe and comfortable. Until one night my cousin and his girlfriend had a friend over drinking and playing games. Their friend had come down stairs and I was laying on the couch and he asked me were the bathroom was.He ended up going outside and going. Then he came back inside sat on the couch next to me.The next thing I know he was on top of me covering my mouth and started undoing his pants. My cousins girlfriend came to check on him and saw, She freaked out called the cops. He ended up getting ten years with no good behavior. Gotten taken out of my safety nest and felt dirty and no one trust again.Then a year later we had to see a councilor and found out my nightmare was not only mine but my sisters to. Their own father. But then a few months later things got better till my councilor and my sisters secretly made plans to have him come to a session wihout my acknowledgement or my mothers. I stayed for a minuet and totally was raged and embarrased by my sisters. They had totally switched their stories and said they made it up and wanted everything to be done and over. My whole world turned upside down all in one day. The day I could not trust anyone feel safe, or even have a relationship with a boy. When we would be together I would cry during sex. Everytime. I still cry sometimes to this day. I have sleepless nights, I tried to kill myself, I have nightmares, flash backs, I have three different types of depression, bipolar. I need meds so bad I dont trust to talk to someone about it. I did try once but the meds they put me on did not work. I would tell them I needed something stronger they would tell me no and that these are working fine. If they worked fine I wouldnt be as crazy as I am now. I black out, start screaming, crying, wanting to hurt/ kill myself. I have four children and im not stable, at times. But if I would have gotten the right meds, right councilor, or the right help.

How do you forgive or forget? You dont. I dont care what anyone says.When people tell me that the past is the past I want to scream,yell. You never get over it. it haunts you for the rest of your life. If it wasnt for the meds everyone could not handle themdrlves or may hurt somene. We would have more suicides, more people killing




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 Grace

by Grace
(Goulburn, Australia)

Two seperate people who hurt me throughout my life. When I was seven a man who was around eighteen kissed me and touched me when I was at my bestfriends house. He said it would take away his pain so I refused to tell anyone and I still haven't many years later.

One month ago my mum got a new boyfriend and he paid attention to me more than my other sisters. He brought me a hair straightener, a jacket, shoes, dvds and took me out to go do photography. I thought it was because I was the weakest in my family. With my history of depression he choose me, apparently.

One night he attempted to get me to drink alcohol but I only sipped it. He told me he loved me and that when he had sex with my mother he was picturing it was me. This night he repeativitly asked me to kiss him. I said no and that I thought it was a horrible iidea to do that to mum. He refused this answer but I pushed him away and went to bed.

A couple nights later he tried again with the alcohol. But again I only sipped it. This time he got up and came back and pounced on me. He kissed me and touched my inner leg as I fought him to get away. I froze in the chair as he kept doing it several times that night. He continued with comments that he wanted to flash me and take me in the shower with him. He talked about having sex with me all the time, to which I replied "Mmm, I don't think so". But he continued although I had said nothing.

Recently I told my mother about my ex-stepdad and he's been kicked out and the police are involved. Is this a big deal or is it... not? I feel betrayed but a part of me... still, thinks he meant well. I'm completely confused.

Grace




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 Eric S

by Eric S
(Los Angeles, California, USA)

My father is 1 of 2 children and came from a broken home. He met my mother when she was 18. She became pregnant and they married in May of 67. I was born 9/67. There are 2 of us. My sister came in 69. My father abused us both and my mother was too afraid to do anything about it. We used to live in Washington DC. Behind our house, there was an alley. Perpendicular to the alley was a creek. My father would take an axe and go to the creek to chop switches from the many trees on the hill leading down to the creek. He took a pocket knife with him to fashion the switch ergonomically. This would all happen right after his terrifying promise of a good whipping when he got angry with us; me especially. 20 minutes would pass and he would come back to the house from the creek with 6 to 8 switches. He was still out of control and ready to beat. He always made me bend over with no clothes on or just my under-pants. It was humiliating. He used all his might as he whipped me. He left many cuts and lacerations all over the torso of my body. No matter how I squirmed, I couldn't get away from him and he would leave me bleeding all over my back, shoulders, arm-pits, stomach, chest, and legs. I couldn't bathe because of pain. I went to bed this way every time and stained my sheets. I would often lose control of my bowels. I ran from home many times between the closed fist punches and slaps. Of course as I got older I entered into the juvenile system. I faired as best as I could as the years moved on. I reconciled with my parents. Today my parents don't know that I found out about my mother aborting her 3rd child. My old, still living, babysitter told me the dark secret of my mother running to her exclaiming, "I will not have another child by that man." I was only 3 when that happened. My aunt told me that they addressed my father's behavior with me when I was only a baby. They stopped bringing up the matter for fear of breaking up the family; as it was explained to me. My wife has helped me throughout the years. They do not like her because she had other children before I met her. She has none by me and my father has no grandson. He expressed his dislike for my family 2 months after I donated a kidney to him after he lost the use of both of his after his many strokes. I do not speak to neither my mother or father. And my father is doing great with my kidney in his belly. So, in essence, I gave life to my abuser who tried to take 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 Brittany3

by Brittany
(USA)

i was 8 years old when i was at my fathers house he was the only man i could ever trust he loved my so i thought... He told me that we were going to "hide" from the dangers outside the room ever since i was 6 i have seen nothing but blood and violence. I was trown against walls kicked and hit multiple times. i never thought my own father woud do some thing this terrible. We (me him and my cousin) went into the room he was drunk and high. We went in ther trusting him. I was put in a chair and told not to move. There was a big man with a gun to my head i watched my father rape my cousin. I was angry at myself the only thing i could think was that it was my fault because i didnt want to stay home. i threw a fit. I loved him uncondisionally. He hurt my mom. He hurt me. He hurt my cousin. he roped me down to the bed, he hit me multiple times with his belt. I was sore and shaken when he took my pants off and stuck his head between my legs... I am 14 now... I live with my mother and step father. they love me he says im nieve but niether of them know what haPpend that day. This is the first time i have talked about it. I have a boyfriend and I have a kid. I love her uncondisionally. And were getting married with my step dads consent. I trust him and i told him and only him. i never wanted any different treatment for what had happend and i told him that. but he is still protesting everytime i tell my 1 year old that you cant go up to random people and talk to them...

Isnt it funny how the peope that say they will never hurt you hurt you the worst.





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Child Abuse Story From Susan

by Susan
(Location Unknown)

1 AM A 58 YEAR OLD WOMAN AND MY LIFE HAS BEEN A TOTAL TORMENT , NOT ONLY ABUSED BY MY PARENTS MENTALLY , PLACED INTO CARE AT THE AGE OF ELEVEN, NO UNDERSTANDING OF THE REASON BEHIND IT FILLED WITH VISITS FROM PARENTS FAMILY , SO I HAD NOONE TO TELL , NOONE TO CARE SO IT GAVE MY ABUSERS A FREE HAND ... SEX ABUSE , WE HAD A PIG BIN FILLED WITH WASTE SLOPS, AND MANY TIMES I WAS DRAGGED OUT OF BED BY MY ABUSER , BIN EMPTIED OUT ON FLOOR,I WAS MADE TO GET ON HANDS AN KNEES MADE TO PIT IT UP WITH MY HANDS ,YES ALL THE SLOPS , EVEN MY OWN VOMIT , AS IT MADE ME GAG ...THIS WAS IN 1962 ...SOCIAL SERVICES PLACED ME THERE IT WAS LIKE I WAS WHISKED AWAY AND ENDED UP IN A HELL HOLE...SENT TO SCHOOL WITH NO UNDERWEAR ON ...MADE TO WEAR PLASTIC SANDLES IN WINTER.WALKING THREE MILES TO SCHOOL..THEN BULLIES AT SCHOOL BEING CALLED FLEA BAG ...WAS RAPED , MY WHOLE LIFE HAS BEEN A TORMENT TO THE POINT IT HAS EFFCTED MY MENTAL HEALTH , I CANT MAKE FRIEND , HAVE ONLY FORMED RELATIONSHIPS WITH ABBUSIVE PEPLE AMD FEEL I WANT TO DIE ...

Susan




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Child Abuse Story from Morgan

by Morgan
(Florida, USA)

My story begins just before my father and mother got their divorce. I'm the oldest of what is now 8 kids, back then there were only 3 of us.I'm 17 now then i was 6. My second sister was 5. I remember being in the kitchen while they were yelling.. it always started that way. My mom would lose her temper easy. My dad would get in her face and spit. My mom picked up shoes and through them at him. He returned the favor with a cup. After their arguments, they would always blame me i can still hear my father saying to me "This is you're fault, you are getting you're wish." He used to take me in my bedroom and hit me with what ever he could find. He flung me around like a rag doll. I felt so guilty. He and my mom finally got their divorce he moved out but his new house was only down the street. Living with my mom was no heaven either. She was just as violent as my father. I had plates thrown at me and spoons. I've been jerked off of bunk beds.It's scary. My mom would drop me and my younger sisters off at my dads new house. That's when he brought me and my second sister in his back bedroom. He made us watch movies,which back then I didn't know were porn. He took off our panties and made us lay there while he would rub us. He made my little sister leave the room. He put me on the ice cold tile floor and he penetrated me. It was so painful.He used to say we had to please him too. He would say we couldn't go outside until we did our part. He made us give him blow jobs. I don't know if my little sister remembers this, we never mention it. I feel like this is my fault in some ways why couldn't i stop him. I feel dirty when I'm around my friends like i don't belong. I'm garbage compared to them. I've never told anyone my story. It happened so long ago i don't really think it matters anyways.




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 Allison

by Allison
(Michigan, USA)

I'm 14 years old. I have never told my story to anyone. No friends, other family members, or anyone who would listen. I'm not exactly sure of the reasoning behind it but I think it's mainly because I was always told to keep it a secret. Even my family members who knew about the abuse and neglect, would constantly tell me to keep a smile on my face and not to show that I'm upset. Everyone thinks my life is perfect because I've worn a mask for as long as I can possibly remember.

It all started when I was just a baby. My father would abuse my mother and I would sit and watch and listen to the screaming and cursing while sitting in a corner crying, trying to not let my dad know. If he saw me crying he would tell me how worthless I am, that my mom doesn't love me and that's why she was never home and I have no reason to be crying.

As I got older the abuse got worse and worse from my father. When I was 7 I realized my dad was into drugs. I thought this was my fault so i would cry myself to sleep without anyone knowing. A few weeks after knowing why his "friends" would always come over and he would lock me in the house with his friend's son, while he would go outside with his friends to "talk" another problem developed. On one of these days my dad's friend's son D raped me. I was 7 and he was 13. To this day, I see him walking the halls in my school and it turns my stomach to think about how he betrayed me and used me, and my father never cared.

From 7 years old to 12 years old, on a regular basis I would have knives thrown at me, be beaten by belts, and be mentally and emotionally abused every day of my life all day long until I laid down in my bed at night and listened to the cries of my mother and the screams of my father coming from their bedroom.

When I was 12 my mother finally got up the courage to divorce my dad. This would have happened earlier but he constantly threatened our lives if we ever left him. For some reason I was devastated and was extremely mad at my mother for this. My father had brain-washed me for 12 years that the reason my mom was always gone was because she didn't love me and my brother, she was sleeping around with other men, and she hated us. The real reason was because my father didn't work and my mom had to work full time and also go to school full time at the same time to support a 4 family household while my father did nothing but sit at home and do drugs.

When my dad left our house he was homeless. I felt extremely bad for him so I decided to run away from home and live with him in the woods. All we had was a few bottles of water and a loaf of bread to last us 2 weeks. I felt lonely and depressed inside because of how he must feel. I stayed in a tent in the woods for 2 months until school started back up. By this time I would get 3am phone calls from my father, telling me how depressed he was and that he was going to kill himself and he was sorry but he had nothing else left in life. These would come every other week at least. I would sit up the entire night before I had to go to school and console him and try to talk him out of killing himself. When I got so depressed from these constant occurrences my mom put her foot down and said i could no longer console my father. When this happened, my dad neglected me and abandoned me. He would not talk to me or if he did the abuse would still go on. My mother left the house with my brother and I and we lived in a camper for the next summer while school was out while my dad stayed in our house. I decided to stay with my dad for a weekend in the house because once again' i couldnt stand the pain I had caused him. He decided he would blow out the pilot under the stove and he fumigated our house in which he was trying to kill us both. After this happened my mother called the police after finding out what had happened just in time before I died. Before the police arrived an hour after we had called them my dad's mother tried to kidnap me and they were trying to take me away. I had bruises from being pulled back and forth like a rag doll between my mom and my grandmother. The next few months passed and the same things went on. the "routine" of abuse.

While these next 6 months passed, I had been holding another secret, I had been being sexually solicited and raped by my best friends father for over 6 months. To this day i am still stalked by him because the police will do nothing about it because there is no "evidence". A month after the rape situations, my father found out that my mother had a boyfriend (they are divorced by this time) And he broke down my door through the dead bolt lock and then came in and wrecked my house and choked and almost killed my mothers boyfriend. He finally sad he would leave if I would give him a hug first. I walked over to him, put my arms around him and he pushed me back and broke a glass vase over my head and then left my house.

Because of my past, I have been self-harming myself for almost 5 years now. Most people put labels on people like me who cut and burn themself but I dont think its right. If people knew how I was feeling on the inside I dont think they would be so nasty about me hurting myself. Dealing with the physical pain to release some of the pain in my heart is just easier. I watch the blood flow down my arm to know that i'm still alive and breathing. This problem hasn't gotten worse since 3 of my friends have committed suicide within a year and I recently have found out that my friend that died May 8th of last year was actually killed by another one of my friends. I've been trying to stop for many reasons but none of them are the right reasons. I've been doing it for people who really don't care if i do or not but they pretend to care. The reason I cut or burn myself that always haunts me is that I feel like even though my dad lived with me for 12 years of my life he never was. It was like he was there but he never really was. No one knows who my dad is because he would never go out in public or even walk outside with me. I wasn't allowed to have friends come to my house because I was scared he would do something in front of them or my story wouldn't be a secret anymore. My father didn't want me to have friends. So I didnt at home. School was my escape from everything. Even when he stopped doing drugs as much he started drinking. He is a major alcoholic and he has left me, abused me, lied to me, cheated me over, and denied me in life. When I want to see my father he says he has plans with his friends so he doesn't have time for me. He always put something before me and he always will.

My name is Allison, 14 years old, and this is my story of abuse.




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 Louise2

by Louise
(Brisbane )

I am the girl that sits in the corner of the room and doesn’t say anything unless spoken to. I used to be out going and bubbly I lost that and I am only just feeling that I am getting it back. I was Emotionally, fiscally, and sexually abused. I have never been able to remember the time my abuse started but that last recorded was 12 years ago. Around 9 months when my mum started dating a new guy. He would make me go into his room every morning and say daddy wants cuddles. Little to my young knowledge I didn’t know any better I had not been taught that it was bad for someone to touch me but I new it was wrong. He would play with me and because I was so little and shy I wouldn’t say or do anything I would just close my eyes and waited for the time when I was allowed to leave. He soon became my step dad.

He was mean to me all the time I would say something wrong or tell my mother just to wait until I had finished something then I would go on to what she had asked me and he would hit me, saying I should do as what I was told. He would make me pull my pants down and hit me so hard I was unable to sit down for days on end. He would give me presents and take me out all the time. After a few years and a sibling in my life my mum and him broke up leaving me alone. I thought it was the best I didn’t have to go through him playing and getting angry at me everyday. That only thing I missed was him taking me out giving me presents. one day he came ova and told my mum he wanted to take me out for the day. I wanted to go I was to little to understand all I thought was that he wanted to give me movies and take me out. After him arguing with my mum she let me. He picked me up and took me back to his place. From this day I still remember every little detail of the house I remember the car the move he put on what every room looked like and the sheet he used to cover ova me. He Put on a move and told said what do you want up or down. I didn’t say anything I had no idea what he meant. After me being confused and scared he yelled and I said down. He did the worse thing that has ever happened in my life. I felt sick and scared. Still to this day I don’t know what would have happened if I said up. After that I new something was wrong I felt gross from it sick even. 2 weeks later he wanted me ova again. When mum asked me I went quiet and just said no. she asked me what the mater was and I told her everything. She was so upset and cried. We went too caught but ran off my mum was scared that it would be to hard for me. The sad thing was my mum had no idea.

I found a letter in her draw saying everything that I told her and there was a something I told her when I was very little that she didn’t think anything of, after finding that I feel like my mum was not paying enough attention to me. She still doesn’t. it has been 12 years I am now 18. The signs of sexual abuse are showing the long term effects. The depression, anxiety, I find it hard to trust people mostly men I have trouble being compassionate to my boyfriend (going on 3 years) and trusting him when I know I should be. Abuse has rewind my life. My family have swept everything under the rug. It makes me feel like I have done something wrong. Something to be ashamed off. I know it is not but I was to help people I want to be there for children like me. But it is hard because people judge you. So next time you judge someone think again because it doesn’t feel nice. I am still trying to cope with what has happened to me but I feel like I never will get over it. I am that girl that sits in the corner and says nothing.




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 John Mark

by John Mark C
(Albany, New York, USA)

Boys cry too: 
When I was 6 years old, my father, a former Southern Baptist preacher brutally raped me after beating my mother into senseless submission when she tried to stop him. Before that, my grandfather had sexually abused me in different ways but it was that act of rape that was seminal in my life. I tried to commit suicide the day after by drinking a glass full of carpet cleaner. For the next few years he would sodomize and rape me numerous times including birthdays and Christmas. He abused my brother and involved us both in sex while he watched at least once. That trauma lead to amnesia of those acts until the age of 27 when I began having body memories, often waking up in the middle of the night in excruciating pain feeling as if I were being raped again. I began to have full memories of my childhood at the age of 29 and was already in counseling for the impending death of my mother from breast cancer and to come to grips with the beatings I received from her because of the shame and rage she felt at not being able to protect me from a sadist and rapist but had to begin to deal with those issues also.

My life has had some spectacular successes. I achieved the rank of commander in the US Navy before retiring after 22 years of military service. I was a naval aviator and am now a pilot for a major airline. I accomplished these things in the midst of the firestorm of self abuse and self destructive behaviors that I was engaging in in secret. I've had over 250 sex partners, both men and women, struggled with bisexuality and have used alcohol and anger over the years to hurt myself when success began to get too close. I have walked in shame, embarrassment and humiliation from my father's choices and then my own choices and have often snatched defeat from the "jaws of victory". Men do suffer from these experiences and it is important for them to acknowledge and not be ashamed to admit it and that "Abuse does not have to be a life sentence".

Telling the truth has cost me. I was accused of being a liar by my sister and threatened with a lawsuit by my brother and have been asked not to visit by the only other members of my family who were originally supportive of my story. But I feel very strongly about telling my story in hopes that others like me will no longer have to hide in the darkness of shame. That they will know that there are other men who have had the same crimes committed against them and know they can free themselves of the shackles placed by criminals who hunt and use children for sex. That they are not alone.

I am volunteer speaker with the RAINN (rape abuse and incest national network) and am involved with several abuse organizations on Facebook. I have been interviewed about why I didn’t press charges against my father by a reporter from the online news magazine, "The Crime Report" which should be coming out shortly. In my time off from flying I am also an author, business owner, inventor, screenwriter, short story teller, playwright, and father.




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 Andrew1

by Andrew
(Location Undisclosed)


I was skating at the roller-rink in the park. After a while I sits down carefully, as my father had leathered me the night before me for being bad. There's lots of boys and girls and mums and dads going round in the sunshine. The manager comes over and tells me I can come on Saturday mornings with the other learners. So I go on Saturdays and it's good. I get ice cream and he helps me and I learn to skate better. He says I can come for free on Sunday mornings when the rink is closed and he tidies up. I go and skate for free and he talks to me and gives me juice and crisps. He will show me how to fire an air rifle. And next time I skate and then go in the changing rooms to fire the gun. There's a target and mats and sandbags on the wooden floor. We lie down and he shows how to load the gun and holds me in the right position and when I hit the target he gives me a hug. Next time I go he says not to skate outside so much as we might get in trouble. So we do the gun more. He hugs me for a good shot then rubs my front and says that's a good boy. When the rubbing gets harder I try to get away but he is so strong and he's a bit angry. And all this time he never stops rubbing me. Then I can't move at all, and I just think not to get a stiffy. But I can't stop it and there is no going back. My shorts gets taken off and it all goes faster and I get dizzy and jerk around. I like the strange feeling and when he gobbles me later I don't struggle. Then shows me his funny white stuff coming out and gives back my clothes and tells me to keep quiet as I will get in deep trouble. That was the first time. I began having compulsive masturbation after that and got abused by some older boys too. I couldn't do my schoolwork and started going to public toilets where homosexual men watched.

In later years I found I had difficult sexual relations with my girlfriends and I was still self harming. Many years on I have not come to terms and I'm deeply ashamed and angry about this secret in my head.




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 Alicia

by Alicia
(USA)

When I was a baby my dad used to beat my mom (He was an alcoholic). When I was 4 yrs old, he strangled her til she passed-out and tried to beat my older sister (She isn't his biological daughter) but she ran outside and hid, he then put me and my little brother into our van and threatened to drive into a lake. He instead took us to his workplace (it was after dark) and I fell asleep there until I was awoken by the cops. We were in Alaska when that happened and after my dad was put in jail and my mom left him, we went to Memphis. In memphis, I found out that I had an older brother whom was being raised by my sterile aunt and her husband. During this time my mom had to work alot to take care of 3 kids and I was left in the care of my Grandma. My older sister made me and my older brother perform sexual acts on one another. I told her that it hurt but she just said that I'd get used to it and eventually enjoy it. Soon however, we left Memphis for legal reasons and setteled in Texas when I was 6 yrs old. There I met my cousins who were aged from 11 to 14 (My sister is 6 yrs older than me so she was 12). My sister and cousins all decided to play truth-or-dare, they would always pick dare and they'd dare each other to do sexual things and soon they began to involve me, I used to try to pitch truth instead of dare but they'd get mad and they made a rule where you can only pick truth once, I had to do sexual things with them and watch porn with them or they'd say that I wasn't mature enough to hang-out with them and I wanted to hang-out with the older kids. This lasted until I was about 7 or 8 but it still haunted me though. I started masturbating when I was 10 and statrted suffering from depression and low-self esteem. When I was 13 I attempted suicide and was put in a psych ward. I confessed all of the things that happened to me while I was in the hospital and they told my mom. My mom told my aunt and my aunt said that I was liar and that I just wanted attention, my cousins later said that it was true and my sister said she couldn't remember. Even though I was hurt, no one did anything about it, my mom said that they were just experimenting and my aunt said that I wanted it to happen and I can't blame everything on her kids. I am now 16 and just a few weks ago I came to the relization that my mom and aunt knew what was going on while it was happening. They just got mad at the fact that I told somebody outside of the family, they wanted it to be kept a secret and I hate them for it. They did nothing to stop what was happening and they knew the whole time. I can't leave now but I plan on moving out next year and never coming back, I tel them this and they act like they don't understand why I don't like them, they get mad when I bring up the past. I hate 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 Cammy

by Cammy
(Location Undisclosed)

Well where can i start, it's just that my mum sometimes get angry over little things and i feel like i'm to blame. So that's why when she get's home from work I try to be on her good side cause u never know when she'll get angry. And she never likes to be in the wrong, when we say something she'll argue that she didn't say it when sometimes she does. And in my mind i feel like speaking out at her but i know she'll get mad and asks if i know who i talking too and all that other stuff. I know it's not as bad as the rest on here but i just wanted to get this 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 Bree

by Bree
(Location Undisclosed)

When I was little my mother used to molest me. She was abusive and violent. I would get neglected and ignored then I would get beat on. Then my mom had my lil sister. I always thought she was the favorite because she was allowed to sleep with our mother in her bed while I had to sleep at the foot of the bed with only a thin blanket to keep warm. But it wasn't till recently I realised my our mother paid so much attention to her. She was molested and raped even worse than me. My grandmother and my dad where trying to get me outta there but My lil sis had no one. She went to court over me and there wasn't enough evidence to convict her but thankfully when she went to court over my lil sis she was finally able to be convicted and was sent to jail. My lil sis went to foster care and I went to live with my grandmother. We were both adopted afterward. But sometimes I feel bad because I got out before it could get any worse when my grandmother took me to the hospital I tested negative for any STD's but when my sis was taken she had gonorreah and syphillis. My mother hated my dad she used to try to kill him. When my sis and I were still with her she tried to slit my dad's throat and run him over and stuff. She didn't succed though and I'm glad. She hated him for saying that when I was born he would love me more than he would ever love her. She hated me because of that. My sister and I have differnt dads but I wish we didn't because her dad raped and molested her too.

Then when I had gotten a lil older my best friend molested me. We used to play a "game" called Pocahauntas. Where we'd do like in the movies she'd be the guy and I'd be the girl. I'd pretend to be dying and then we started to makeout. After a while it got to where she'd touch me in bad places. I know how they say lil kids would experiment with each other but I'm pretty sure she was old enough to know the difference though looking back I didn't until I got older.

Then it was my cousin we'd go into the guestroom at my house and he'd take his clothes off and tell me to take mine off and to sit in his lap. I had talked to my grandmother about all this and she said it was probubly a transference of a memory that happened when I was with my mother because she told me that my mother used to lock me in closets with black men. She said that the dates and our ages didn't add up.

I don't know but all I do know is that the violence and stuff that's happened to me over the years has taken a toll on me. I don't like to be touched by men not even my own brother and he's never done anything to me. I won't get into conflict with girls cause conflict in gerneral scares me to death. I have severe depression I'm on medication for and I hate being around people. I hate people in general to be quite honest. I'm 19 years old and I have socially isolated myself from people. I don't make new friends easy and I daydream about killing people. I've been a cutter before but I stopped because it didn't do anything for me. Now if I get too overwhelmed I hit my head against a wall. Childish I know but it's easier for me to control the pain. I have friends and stuff and I love my family. But the events that followed my birth will forever haunt me. It's a struggle but I'm trying. I've had cousneling since kindergarten and I'm on medication now so I'm gettin better but you can't change the past. and I hope my kids never have to go through what I did. I wanna find my sister someday but I don't know her last name since she got adopted and supposedly we have another sister who is a baby and was raped and molested too but she's with my uncle and he's a good guy. I just wish I could find them both and let them know that I know how it feels and I love them and wish I could be in their lives. But if they're happy I don't want to bring up bad memories. I don't know what I should do...




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 Nathan

by Nathan
(United Kingdom)

At the moment i am living with my friend and his parents. The reason i told my friend some of my secrets about my dad. My friend, J, told his dad and in some way that is the reason i told J because his dad is a policeman. I could not do it myself because i felt so scared of people. I thought everyone was like my dad. I want to stay with J but that is not up to his Parents or me. His dad seems ok but i think he has doubts about me and J being friends. I have already told him that i had hoped J would tell him. I really did not know if all dads were like my dad.




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Child Abuse Story From Teresa

by Teresa
(Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA)

First of all I want everyone to know I am a survivor, I am 56 right now. when I was 47 years old I finally told my husband of 31 years now that I was sexually abuse for many years, by a family member. I believe it started very early in my years that I can remember I was about 7 OR 8. it was very frightening, as I got older i got even more scary for me I felt so dirty nasty,I did not know who to tell this was happening to me I was seeing a therapist by the time I was in 3rd grade.I was not able to talk to him because I was being threaten. if I would have told him am sure I be dead now. because my mother was a very abusive women, she use to beat me for no reason.so I knew if I went to her I would be dead she would have killed me. as she tried many times to do.I was sexually abuse everyday till I was the age of 14 I had to commit a crime to get out got sent to a girls home. and when I got out of there I ran away, and went to a foster home but was never able to talk about it to no one till I had my own kids and one day I just snapped and I cried and cried and told my kids.I went thru livng hell but to this day I have never confronted my abusers . one day I will.if you are being abuse please tell some one dont wait.




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Child abuse Story From Polly B

by Polly B
(California, USA)

I can almost remember it like it was yesterday my father watching porn in the livingroom as my mother was doing laundry and once he got the perfect chance to do something while she was folding clothes in the other room he didnt hesitate to go further with it. I remember getting pee'd on like it turned him on for some odd reason. I remember him coming into my room in the middle of the night telling me to shhh while he touched away at my parts. Finally divoriced and sent to jail i fianlly thought it was over. Being five years old and having to get called to the counclers office to have our private talks to make sure everything was ok with me. I denied to talk to anyone i didnt want to talk to anyone i just prayed it was all over. Then my mother started dating other guys who she put her trust into and they did the same to. I even got molested in front of my mother underneath a blanket while she was on the phone. Her not knowing makes me mad and gives me chills for her not to realize a 7 year old should not be sitting on an old mans lap under a blanket. Then it led up to my next door neighbors doing the it while she was at work. I cant believe im still standing and have a reason to live but i put it behind me learned to forgive my mother but not forget. I'm 29 in a relationship and i seem to keep it functional. I'm never satisfied. He gives me the world but yet i always find something to yell at him about. He wants to take me out of the party seen but im not ready to leave it yet its like my drug to put all the pain behind me. I use to be addicted to drugs when i was 19 but i got out of it thankfully and i thank the lord everyday for helping me get out of that. Now its alcohol however ive finally took control of it. I hate the fact that for sex i have to be drunk to have fun. I never feel comfortable having sex i always get bored and never want to have it. I have no sexual desire. I dont get it. Im confused and i dont know what to do...




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Child Abuse Story From Jessica H

by Jessica H
(Pennsylvania, USA)

The unconditional love and unbreakable loyalty one has for their mother is something that is impossible to describe or find the right words for. I find it impossible to wrap my head around the fact that, although I know undoubtedly that my mother is completely to blame for just about every terrible thing that happened to me throughout my childhood, I have never outwardly blamed her or left her side. Maybe this plays a big part into why "recovery" seems completely impossible.

I was almost 4 when she found that jump in head first kind of love. I don't have many memories of our lives before he entered it, but the ones I do have are so detailed and in a way are more valuable to me than many scarce memories. We lived in two different places in that time. First was with my grandma. We shared a two bedroom apartment, mom and grandma shared one room, I had the other. Which, I suppose was because my mom wanted me to have a room of my own, but also kind of strange because I was young enough to have slept in a room with her. Second place we lived was with my grandpa. Who to me, maybe because my dad wasn't around, was the number one most important man in my life. I adored him and loved living there. I am guessing my mom bounced around between her parents because she was quite young, had me in high school, so couldn't have been older than 20 at the time.

The details of how her and my then step dad came to be are pretty foggy. But I do remember my mom getting pregnant and having my sister, and shortly after they bought a house together. Everyone was happy that my mom was settling down, and especially happy that I would finally have a father.

I noticed at a very early age that something was different. That I was different from them. They all looked the same, and I looked different. They were blond, blue and fair skin. I am black, brown and tan skin. But it was never discussed, and after a few years I had been conditioned to truly believe that this man was my father.

I think it started with the drugs and alcohol use between the two of them. Which slowly escalated to verbal abuse and loud drunken arguments, which were soon a common thing for them to do in front of me, but usually when I was sleeping. My sister was still a baby at the time. But I could always hear.

Another thing I would always hear were his mom and sisters comments about me. Always some new racial slur they would call "that girl of hers". I knew it was mean, I knew they were talking about me, but I didn't know what any of the names meant. I still wonder how my mom could have been okay with that.

My step dad always had some issue with my mom, and soon the verbal abuse turned physical. The first incident, well it may not have been the first, but it was the one that I remember, happened on a night when I had a friend stay over. I woke up to my mom screaming "what did I do?!" over and over. My friend and I walked into the hall to see him dragging my mom down the steps by the hair. The police came, but then life went on as usual.

Another incident that happened shortly after the first, was on a night that his parents had come over to babysit my sister and I because they wanted to go out. That night, I heard screaming again and although I was only maybe 6 years old, knew he was hurting my mom. I walked into the hall to them yelling at each other. His parents were at the bottom of the steps. He ended up punching my mom so hard in the face that she actually fell down the entire flight of stairs. His parents said nothing, they didnt help my mom up, they didnt instinctivly grab me, they just stood there. I just stood there. It was the scariest thing I had ever seen.

My mom had another baby, my brother, and she married my step dad. This was after all of this, and when he turned his anger towards her on me. He started on me slowly, with the verbal abuse, just like he did on my mom. She was taking night classes at the time, so coming home from school became a nightmare. He would grab my hair and hold my face towards his as he screamed at me. He would hit me in front of my friends before that I had over. He grabbed my hair and drug me upstairs right in front of them. One time it had gotten so loud between us, that a neighbor heard my screams and came over to find him choking me against the wall. She told me she believes if she wouldntve came he would have killed me because my face was blue and I had stopped moving.

My mom didnt believe any of it. She said I was exagerating and it wasnt as bad as I was telling her. She said the choking incident was a one time thing and he lost his temper and would never do it again. But he did. He was doing this to me, and I was still being woken up at night quite often to the two of them fighting. One time my mom told me to pack our stuff and wake up the other kids. I was so happy, I thought we were leaving, but we didnt. She told me to just go back to sleep. I sat at the top of the steps, crying. He started screaming at me asking me why I think my moms so great? Did I know she was a liar? Well guess what??? "Im not your dad!!!"
My mom told me it wasnt true, he was just mad. I was just really confused.

My life went on like this for two more years. At one point, he had beat me so bad I called my grandpa for help. He got there as soon as my mom came home from school. My stepdad and grandpa were arguing, and he threw my grandpa over the dining room table. I had to watch the one man in my life, who loved me and treasured me and made me feel safe and special, struggle to get up off the floor, because he had wanted to protect me.

Soon after, a friend at school told me that her dad told her that my stepdad wasnt my real dad. I came home in tears. I dont know why I was so upset. When I told them what happened, my mom looked shocked and said she doesnt undertand why im crying, because I already knew that. But I didnt know, I believed her when she lied to me. She said I was just being dramatic.

My mom finally left him, and she took us and moved to an apartment of our own. Even though she didnt protect me all those years, I wasnt one bit mad at her, didnt despise her and loved her beyond words. I was so happy to be away. But the chaos continued. My moms drug use had become really bad. My new happy life turned into drug binges, evictions, and my mom being in and out of jail. I was left alone for days at 11 to care for my 7 year old sister and 3 year old brother. As she was in and out of jail, I was back and forth between relatives and then back to her, a circle that seemed never ending.

When she was away, I cried myself to sleep every night. She was all I had, I needed her. When she was gone, it was like the wind had been knocked out of me. I felt like I couldnt breathe. I still loved her so much. I still couldnt even begin to be mad at her. When I was back with her, I did nothing but worry about her. Worry if it would happen again. I just wanted to be with her all the time because I didnt know when she would be away from me again. And then it would.

This continued for what was left of my childhood, until the last time she went on a binge which was when I was 21. She has been sober on and off throughout those times, and has been sober now for 3 years. I still have extreme anxiety and worry about whether it will happen again. And I also cant bring myself to look to her for closure about everything thats happened because in the back of my head I know how it feels when she isnt there, so I convince myself to just be thankful for the times we have together, and I guess not ruin it by hurting her feelings.

Child abuse and domestic abuse never really go away. Even after you escape it. In one form or another it will haunt you for the rest of your 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 Mik

by Mik
(Northern Ireland)

My brother changed my life forever. I'm now 40 and he still intimidates me emotionally. He's never had to face up to it properly or else he wouldn't be so horrible to me. My mum and dad are in denial and if anything feel more empathy for him as he was abused by a teacher just before he abused me and there was a court case and successful conviction but what happened to me just seemed to get lost along the way.
I was 8/9 and trusted him. He was acting weird and made me very comfy propped up on pillows in the corner of his room. All very premeditated. He rubbed his hard penis and I was so scared. He forcefully attempted to penetrate me it was so sore and thankfully he finally gave up. He masturbated and came all over my face and body and to this day I have awful problems with my husbands sperm.
There is part of me eaten by hatred. I fight this deep down inside myself. Some day when he calls me spoilt or selfish as he did last month he will receive the full force of that deep pain. He deserves 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 PJ

by P J
(USA)

I was smart for 3 years old. My mom was at the hospital to have my brother. My mom's cousin and wife were to watch me and my other three siblings. I wore my little panties as little kids do and a little shirt. I hated my cousins wife. She looked like a man and was scary/ I loved my second cousin and trusted him. They were both my mom's age. I would sometimes get chapped between my legs because I was chubby. I will call him E...would take me to the back bedroom and lay me down. He would take off my panties and get the baby powder. He would pull me to the edge of the bed like he was putting powder on me in case that wife came in. Instead, he would blow on my privates , he said to make it feel better. He would ask if it felt better and I said yes of course. He said be still and let me look real good baby . He would open me up and put something wet and hot in my vagania . I soon found out that it was his tongue. He would say, I will kiss it to make your hurt go by by. He said now I am going to put your powder on so open wide. I did and he sprinkled powder on me. About that time L came in the room and ask what the H*** was taking him so long. He jumped up and told her he was just finishing changing me and powdering me. I think that woman knew but he jerked my arm and said you better not tell nobody or I will give you to Willie Bee. That was a crazy person in our neighborhood. All kids were scared of her. I never told anyone but I wanted to. My daddy would have KILLED him. When I married I had a lot of problems with sex. I felt dirty. Why should I feel dirty? I have been married twice and divorced because I feel so dirty in sex. I need help but I just can't discuss this. This is a first. I feel good getting it off my chest. He was my mom's second cousin and my third. Any ideas??




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 Talyn

by Talyn
(Wisconsin, USA)

I'm currently 15. I stumbled upon this site because I wanted to learn more about the repercussions of child abuse in all its forms because I am interested in how the mind works, and what better way to find out than to read true accounts?

Anyways, I was about 11 or 12 when it happened.

See, I had just met my cousin, I__, who is my Grandpa's sister's son on my mom's side (so my aunt who is my mom's dad's sister... O.o ) he was about...14 or 15 years old at the time.

See, they came over to our house a lot, and whenever I__ and I were upstairs in my room alone. We'd watch movies on my TV. He one night suddenly asked me to lay down on my bed and close my eyes. Being naturally naive, I did as he told me.

About seven seconds later, I felt him hugging me. I was thinking "Okay..." and I hugged him back.

The next time he asked me to lay on my bed, he kissed me. I opened my eyes and kissed back for awhile, because I liked it, truth be told. I thought of him as a boy, not as a cousin. But then after about 10 seconds, I was trying to shove him off, but he wouldn't budge. I pushed as hard as I could, and I managed to get him about a centimeter away from my mouth, but then my arms gave out and he slammed his lips on mine again. I was thinking "Crap! What if somebody sees us?!"

Then he stopped, and it was all normal...

Another time, he and I were at my Grandparents' woods. They owned a property with a few acres of forest for hunting and they had one lodge for us for staying in, and another for friends and family to stay in, which we dubbed "Grandma's house" .

I__ said "let's go check it out!" and so I said "okay".

So we went inside and he closed the door, and it was dingy and musty, cuz no one had been in there for awhile... and he began chatting randomly about this one guy he read about who kidnapped this girl and raped her in a meadow and then killed her and then set her on fire.

He asked me suddenly, "Do you know what rape is?"

I, still being naive, shook my head.

"It's where you have sex with someone and then kill them." Now we all know that the last bit is not necessarily true, but I didn't know that at the time.

He then smiled at me in a creepy way, took a step forward.

"Want me to rape you?"

I shook my head, because I didn't want to die, and I sure as hell didn't want to have sex at the age of 11 or 12. He laid me down on the old couch behind me and began kissing me. I was trying to get him off, saying "stop, get off.." He kept looking up out the window every few seconds. "Don't worry, no one's coming.."

"Get off of me!"

And he let me go but he was begging me to come back.

"No!" He made me promise not to tell, but only if he promised me never to do that to me again. He said "okay, okay, just don't tell!"

And then I remember this one time, we were at my house, and I know I was definitely at least 12 or early in my 13th year, when he told me to get into the closet and pull down my pants and panties. He went in with me, and I did as I was told, because I was curious. I have ALWAYS been curious about everything, and despite the risks that I was taking now that I look back, I didn't really do anything to stop him. He took his pants and boxers off and I got to see his penis.

And now that I try to remember, I remember him telling me how babies are made before we got into this little snit, and he asked me "wanna make a baby?"

I said "no way!"

Anyways...And then suddenly he pulled me to him and I felt our genitals touch each other. He felt warm, but I thought "Stop this is wrong, we can't do this, this is weird"

But then before I could react, he suddenly pushed me away from him and checked his manhood like something was seriously wrong down there.

"shit! I think I'm gonna have a baby!" What an idiot. I'm not sure if he was faking that line of crap or if he seriously thought a man could get pregnant at that time (he was 14 at least) ..

Anyways, when I was 13-14 I saw him a few more times, and he dropped hints that he wanted to do more stuff with me. He knew I collected Pokemon cards at that time for awhile because he said "you like pokemon cards? I'll give you a huge stack of em..c'mon, please?"

I kept on saying "no. stop. go away!!"

I knew he couldn't pester me further on the matter when the adults were within earshot, so I tried my best to be in their company whenever we crossed paths.

And then I told a friend, and I made her promise that she not tell anyone, and she said okay. But at that time she had lent a book to me and the due date was coming up and no matter where I looked I couldn't find it anywhere. She threatened to tell everybody my secret, and I became seriously depressed and anxious and worried and cried a lot. And then I told my step-dad about it, and then he told mom and then she called my “friend's” dad and we got the whole thing settled. And so my parents now know. And I've never seen I__ since then.

Compared to these other stories, this is a walk in a park.

I'm not “emotionally” or “mentally” traumatized like others should have been after going through their own hells, because I am still naïve and I still trust boys, and I currently have a few crushes, and I will still not mind being alone with a boy my age or older in a room, but I've learned to come across as domineering and more alpha than omega, you know? You don't mess with me, because I will seriously mess you up.

Thank you 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 Anonymous44

by Name Undisclosed
( Location Undisclosed)

When I was about 2 yrs old, custody was given from my mother to my father who had divorced because she was working 2 jobs and going to school. My younger brother and I had lived with my father for a bit, but since he was too far into drugs he gave custody to his parents. I dont really remember when it all started, I do however remember certain things that I think will never go away. I've dealt with this by trying to forget and ive lost alot of memory of my childhood that most remember when they were really little.

I remember some nights when my older cousin stayed over the night we would sleep in the living room, we would pretend to be asleep but my grandfather would be watching porn on the television, and my grandmother would say "Turn that off when the kids are out here" he would say "they are sleeping," when he knew just as well that we were not asleep. My older cousin was my role model at that point, someone I looked up to. She always said it would be ok, and everything was fine. Since I was younger and my cousins had been involved I thought it was ok too. Everytime my grandfather and I had been home alone or it was late at night, my soul seemed to disappear. My grandfather would get out the vasoline, oh how i hated seeing that stuff. It meant it was my time for him. He would use it to try and penetrate my vagina. I was really scared at first, and then i started to not care because when my grandfather would take us in his transport when he drove places him and my cousin would go in the back and i remember sitting in the front and seeing her underwear at her feet. This went on for a couple of years. He even had me and my cousins do sexual things on each other.

One day while I was at school these people came and took me out of my class, (I was in grade 4)they asked me if I was being abused at home by my grandfather, I was really scared that it would hurt everyone and my cousin so I lied about everything and told them nothing like that happened and then i began thinking they were asking everyone this at the school just to make sure, Until later that night we were at the grocery store and I seen my cousin with her new boyfriend, she asked my grandmother if she could talk with me. She brought me away from my grandmother and told me that people might come to my school and ask me about the abuse, she had also asked if they came yet i told her no because i knew then that i was suspose to tell the truth about what was happening. When we got home from shopping the police were at our house and the people who came to talk to me at school. They asked me to get my belongings for a few nights until they figure out whats going on. So as my grandmother was getting my things she said you dont actually beileve this do you. and i said I was leaving just in case as i didnt want to hurt her. They made me leave my brother in the house that night and took me into foster care. The next day my brother was with me. After a few months in foster care my mother got custudy but something was still really bothering me, if my grandfather was in trouble for what he did then shouldnt my father get into trouble to, I told my mom about what he did, it was nothing as big as my grandfather but he tried to put his penis in my mouth one night while living with my grandparents i pretended to be asleep as i was really scared. because he was suspose to be my protector and I was sick of all this sexual stuff. My father had not pleaded guilty as my grandfather did, so i had to go to court after the first court we were to go to trial, after seeing my father in court when i went on the stand with his new gf, i felt hurt and betrayed. A couple days after being in court my mother had told me my father got sick in jail and passed away, only did i learn later that he killed himself in his home. After everything I had been through already I had to deal with thinking I was to blame for all the hurt and pain left in my family, I now don't talk with anyone in my fathers family. Thanks for listening to my story, I would tell you guys you will forget about this, but you never will. I can tell you though you dont have to live in that moment and there are many ways to deal with 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 Anonymous45

by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)

This will be the first time that I have ever disclosed the details of my childhood sexual abuse. It began when I was 2. I have been told the story of when this started by my father, the abuser. I think that subconsciously, he thinks that by telling me everything there was to know about it, and constantly making me uncomfortable by bringing it up, he is somehow freeing himself of the guilt.

He tells me this:

"When you were two, you were running around all giggly and happy and naked having just gotten out of the bathtub. I couldn't help myself, I grabbed you and laid you down on the bed and licked you right there. You didn't seem to mind it. If you had I probably would have never done it again."

Later on in my so called childhood, my father tells me that I used to ask him to play the "Lick Game" while mommy was at work. He said I liked it when he would perform oral sex to me. He would take me in his bedroom and close the door. Sometimes my brother would ask to come inside but my dad would make up an excuse as to why he couldn't come in. To this day I wonder if my brother was ever suspicious or if he was completely clueless.

When I reached the age of five or so, he would always ask me to squeeze my legs together and he would put his penis through them as if he were having sex. Then when he was about to cum he would push his penis right on the entrance of my vagina. He used to tell me how he couldn't wait until I got older, when he could "shoot way up inside me".

Sometimes he would bribe me into giving him oral sex. He would tell me that he would buy me whatever I wanted at the store if I licked syrup off his penis. He always followed through on his bribes too.

If I was ever at home sick from school, he would make sure he was the one to stay home with me, and of course abused me then too.

Late at night if I couldn't sleep or got scared, I would go into his and my mother's room and sleep on his side of the bed. He would always slip his hands into my pants. I always went in to his room by my own will with no initiation by him. I continued to until age twelve when the abuse finally subsided.

He always told me about the guilt that he had for doing the things he did to me, even while he still planned to do them. He would tell me that he felt like he must be "wired up wrong" and wondered what could cause him to "want to have sex with his daughter."

If I was wearing a pair of short shorts or a short skirt he would always tell me how "sexy" I looked and tell me to change.

He used to always tell me if I had any questions about sex to ask him. He would ask me to "french kiss" him but I would refuse.

The catch about my abuse is the fact that he never forced me. He NEVER forced me to do any of the things that I did. He bribed me, and always let me believe it was ok. I don't know if any other person has been through this, but I feel like this is a rare situation.

Yes, it was never excruciatingly painful. Yes, he never forced me. But the problem is he let me think that letting him do those things could positively affect me. He let me believe he loved me more than he loved my mother because I gave him better sex, and because we had a secret that I secretly made him happier. He showed me that good things could come from it like a pack of gum that I wanted or something.

I've started to blame things like the low self esteem I had in 8th grade. I was suicidal in middle school but I couldn't tell anyone. I cut myself in 9th grade until my friend's father found out, and of course told my dad. He was unemployed and when my friend's father called he called our house phone during the day to tell him.

When my father confronted me about it, it took some convincing but he promised he would not tell my mother if I stopped. I did.

He, like my mother, was always afraid to let me be at a friend's house if just the dad or an older brother was there to watch us. They were afraid that I would get molested or raped. Once we were in private I would purposely take personal stabs to him saying things like "I bet you love how mom has no idea how much safer I could probably be at a friend's house." He of course felt guilty and would always tell me how sorry he was.

Once, around age 11 or so, there was something I wanted him to do for me. I don't remember what it was now, but I remember saying "Do it, or I'll tell mom what you've done to me." He freaked out and told me how much it scared him when I said that and to never say that again. He told me that if I did then he would go to jail and I would never see him again.

When he told me that, he crushed my delusion that had been keeping me sane for the past five years. I always told myself that the government, or some authority was testing all children. I was convinced that something good would happen if I never told my mother or anyone until I was an adult. That I would be congratulated with some positive outcome when I grew up.

During my freshman year of high school, a teacher of mine asked the class to write a persuasive paper about our position on the game RapeLay. I became extremely teary eyed and told him I would rather not write about it. Because I left the class crying, two of my best friends followed me into the bathroom. It was the first time I had ever told anyone about my secret.

The last time my father and I talked about it was about a year ago. I always hated how he would bring it up every time we were alone. He told me how he was afraid that I would tell someone like my future husband, and that my husband wouldn't want our children being around him. I told him I was convinced that I was taking it to the grave with me. But now that I am in a serious relationship, I want him to know what I've been through.

My biggest problem is the fact that my father played two roles, my dad and my father. He has taught me about life, let me cry on his shoulder, and taught me about computers and building things, yet as my father he has warped my view of men in general. I never know who to trust when the person who I trust the most has showed me that one of the most dreaded crimes in the world can be committed by he, himself.

This is the first time I have ever thought about the details of my abuse. When I was younger the thought that this has forced me to grow up faster than any child should ever have to would make my hands shake violently and my head spin.

Normally my writing can be very clever and witty. I apologize for being blunt but my story is so long that I had to shorten it down to give the direct facts.

This has barely scratched the surface of beginning to explain my "childhood" but it is what shaped me into the person I am today.

I keep picking up the phone to call the hotline, just because I want counseling. But I am too nervous to call. I don't know what's holding me back, but I'd feel much better to talk to a counselor over the internet. Do you know of any resources 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 Anonymous

by Anonymous46
(Location Undisclosed)

When I turned 14, my mother decided to remarry.

Let me first say that I'd been raised in a single-parent home my entire life. My mother had bounced around from man to man, often beating herself up when a relationship "failed." I think her desire to find a father for me led to her marrying a guy who everyone could see was a loser.

Now, to set the background up: my stepfather was very intolerant of other people's differences. I'm about as different as you can get. I stayed in my room most of the time, usually writing stories or reading a book. I don't think I exchanged more than five words with him during the first month. I distrusted men because of something that had happened before I'd even met him, and unfortunately he got the brunt of it. I lied to him a lot.

I know - it sounds like I'm excusing his actions. Sometimes, I wonder if it wasn't justified. He was originally a kind, albeit prickly man who wanted to assume the "father" role in my life. I completely rejected him. He reacted by barring me from my bedroom during the daylight hours. I called him a "controlling redneck moron." Eventually, he started calling me names, eventually going from "emo" to "fat-ass" and "bitch."

Then, my mother had to go to the hospital.

I directly disobeyed him one afternoon and spent the entire day locked in my room. Our roommate, L, told him to knock the door down and pull me out by my hair. (I heard this while I was upstairs.) He eventually decided to calmly call me down to tell him what was wrong.

I didn't tell him. Instead of telling him that I was afraid of him because of what happened not even a month ago, I told him that I never asked for him to barge into my life. I told him that he needed to leave me alone, to let me do my own thing for a while, and that once I left, he could go back to the "deluded little fantasy" he had with my mom. I also told him that I did my chores, and that it wasn't any of his business what I chose to do with my free time.

He walked over to my chair and slapped me across the face.

I looked at him, stunned; then, after a while, I curled up in the chair and cried.

That was only the beginning. Eventually, I told my mother what had happened - both a month earlier and what had happened while she was at the hospital. She immediately confronted him, G. He said that he couldn't have known that if I hadn't told him - which was, admittedly, true.

Then he discovered that I spent most of my alone time writing.

He told me that I wasn't allowed to write anymore. You probably know how well that went; I've always used writing as a way to cope with the outside world, especially after I'd been molested. I tried to tell him this; he ignored me and put a hammer through my CPU. Then, he proceeded to force me to burn my notebooks.

There was one particular notebook that I loved more than anything else. It had been given to me by my real father, who'd died ten years before. It was filled with the first things I'd ever written, and was probably dearer to me than anything else I owned, including the engagement ring he gave to my mother before they married. I begged him to let me keep that notebook, telling him that I wouldn't write a single word in it if he let me.

He ripped it out of my hands and threw it into the bonfire.

After that, I started to resent him more and more. I never spoke to him, even when he insulted me and demanded that I say something to him. It got to the point where I could enter the room and he would fly into a rage. I felt scared every time I came home. Eventually, I found a friend who was willing to keep my notebooks at his home. I spent most of my time divided between wishing I could write, wishing I could run away from home, and wishing that my stepfather would just die so I wouldn't have to deal with him. My mother watched the violence escalate and did nothing, saying that it was mostly my fault for being so antisocial. I wanted to commit suicide, but knew that it would kill my mother. I just didn't want to live like that anymore, and I didn't know how to stop.

Every time someone asked me about the bruises on my face, I'd say something about how I fell, or something. (I'm clumsy, so there's that.) Then, when he tried to strangle me one night, I wore nothing but turtlenecks for a month. It went on like that until I realized that I couldn't live with it anymore. I got flashbacks every time he tried to hug me, or tried to get close.

One night, he decided he wanted to "wrestle" with me. I told him to stop multiple times, often screaming it out. Then, I had another flashback: I was being raped again by my cousin. I started screaming, "No, no, please no!" over and over again. Then, I kicked him in the face and ran out of the house.

The police found me in the woods an hour later.

I was put into a psychiatric hospital, where they pretty much forced me to tell them everything that had happened during the last three years. He was removed from the house, and my mother was forced to get therapy for her "condition."

Even now, I resent her; she still tells me that the abuse I suffered wasn't "that bad," that it was mostly my fault, and that I should have just kept it a secret. I'm moving away next month; after that, I don't plan on ever speaking to him again.




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 Anonymous

by Anonymous47
(Location Undisclosed)

Where to begin.. I guess I always knew something was wrong although I didn't know what. My behaviour didn't seem to fit my personality type which got me to doing research and seeing that I fit into the typical behaviour pattern of someone who has been sexually abused, although I could not remember it at all. What eventually inspired me to go and seek professional help was when for the umpteenth time I experienced trouble bonding with the man I was in love with (this guy was different - the only one I didn't cheat on - I actually had a little respect for myself by then). Anyways after quite a few sessions and then hypnosis my memory was returned or I remembered - it was my brother, just before I turned 4 - and I remembered everything else that went with it, including my dear loving parents arguing (thats sarcasm yes), and the doctor lying about no penetration and then my mother insisting she was right (dear god, how do you excuse your 16 year old son raping your 3 year old daughter like that) - and the memories were so vivid that the bruises reappeared on my body. I guess at that stage I was suffering from PTSD because I managed to get dismissed from my job which I was excellent at but never really enjoyed come to think of it. And had to and still have to deal with my mother who insists now I made it all up even though originally she was supportive (for almost 2 hours) when i told her and also told her that he was abusing my sister as well (2 years older than me and trouble conceiving - any of this sound familiar yet to anyone?).. thats enough sharing for today... hope this helps someone or can make someone feel better about their own experience...




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Child Abuse Story From Anonymous

by Anonymous
(Location Undisclosed)

my mother dated well known child molesters and let them in our house. let them live with me and mybrothers.
i hate my mom for doing that. the creepy guys would be all over me. and she never did anything baout it...
when i was about 6 i went to live with my step dad. when i was 9 he started touching me .
when i was 14 on my 14th birthday he took my virginity. i have anger problems depression. i have been in and out of fostercare.
im not allowed to talk to my brothers. my dad is in jail . im only 15 now. no matter how hard i try i cant get it out of my mind.before i blocked it all out. he seually abused 6 of my friends that i witnessed. and more girls in the past. i went through councelling and a whole bunch of stuff. til i suddenly started remeembering . i never wanted my step dad to get in trouble. but he needed help. he is now in jail for 4 and half years til 7 maybe longer.




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 Katie

by Katie
(Northamptonshire)

A person who feels so alone even in a crowded room: 
I'm not too sure what to write now to be honest. When I was 8 years old, my mother got a new boyfriend. He moved in eventually and we got along so well. My sister and I were forced to call him dad. (We had no contact with our birth father at all) It was fine until he started shouting at us all the time, For silly things such as not turning off a light, or even dropping a fork on the floor.

I had trouble sleeping, No matter what I just couldn't fall asleep. I started getting in trouble, for always being tired. I was never allowed to go to school, or see my friends. I spent 4 years in bed. When I did come out of bed, I got no food - instead I got beaten. I now have nightmares and they're getting worse. All I can ever think about is how my mother let this happen. Why was I forced to lie to my social worker? Why wasn't I allowed to go to school? How could someone do this to such a young person and get away with it?

Thats not all, you want to hear the worst part? He now runs a charity that re-unites children with their parents or something like that. HOW can he run something like this? Its amazing what you can hide from people isn't it?

Things like this affect people forever - Is this feeling that im empty and useless ever going to end?




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 Rachel

by Rachel
(Location Undisclosed)

i dont no if this is child abuse or not but. when i was 5 years old my moms boyfriend wuld never let me use warm or cold water i always use hot water and wen i wuld get burn he said tht is good for u. then he wuld never let me use the bathroom at nite only at noon for 2o mins, and him and my mom wuld always fight




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 Amanda

by Amanda
(Sydney, Australia)

I was abused from the age of 7 til I was 14 years old by my older cousin. It is still so hard to come to terrms with because he was only 3 years older than me. My earliest memory could probably be viewed as childhood curiousity, he had built a cubby house out of bed sheets and mattresses and started the "I'll show you mine if you show me yours' game. Our parents spent ALOT of time together so my younger sister and I spent heaps of time with him. By the time I was about 9 he was trusted to do things like take us out on the lake in the row boat so we could swim and fish. He would frequently make excuses to get rid of my little sister. It was at these time that he'd touch my vagina and make me touch him. When I would get upset he would tell me I was now part of the 'cool cousins club' that only kids could be a part of, and that all his friends did it. I remember imagining an actual clubhouse that his 'cool' friends would go to to do these things.
I remember trying to stay with the adults but then he would do something like build me a swing to convince me to go play with him. On this particular occasion he locked me in his bedroom (which was outside in a granny flat)and repeatedly abused me. He never raped me but he'd penetrate me with his hands and make me touch him. He had a name for his penis that he'd do puppet shows with and he also had a teddy bear that he had cut a hole in to stick his penis in. This particular day, when he finally let me out he grabbed my sister and locked her in. I remember bashing on the door and crying for him to let her out, after a short period he did. I ran to our parents crying, telling them he had locked us in the room but they just thought I was over-reacting to him playing a trick on us! From this point forward I vowed that he would never get to her again and put myself in the line of fire to prevent it whenever I could. It was around this time that he went to a juvenile justice centre for abit over a year, the relief was overwhelming.
One day when I was 13 and I came home from school to find him there, mum said he was moving into our granny flat for a while because his mum couldnt cope with him. I was devestated. At first he didnt do anything, he set me up a computer with lots of games on it and taught me how to speak pig-latin. At one point I genuinely believed he would never do it again but then it all started again, but worse. When we'd go shopping with my parents he would talk to me in pig-latin (in front of them)telling me what he was going to do to me when we got home. The abuse had progressed to oral sex as well. It was when I was 14 that I snapped and said he had to stop or I would tell. A week later he robbed my house and was kicked out by my parents.
I never told because he had told me that no-one would ever believe me and that our mums would just fight, they only had eachother and us kids in Australia (Family was is in England)and I couldn't bear to tear them apart. I came to a point where I was going to tell but he was diagnosed with HIV and guilt would not allow me to, I figured karma had got him anyway.
When I was 17 my parents had forgiven him for the robbery but I was fuelled by hatred for him ( which no-one could understand because I was usually of forgiving nature. He would frequently call my house asking for me but I would refuse to speak. One day he called when I was not home and asked mum why I hated him so much. She told him it was because he was a thief, to which he replied "No.... it because of what I did to her when she was a child" and hung up the phone. My sister then disclosed the entire story. Much to my releif I was finally able to tell the truth which he now completely denies. Although he does rear his head every year or so to antagonise me either on the phone or via facebook etc.
To this day I have tried an endless amount of strategies to try and heal. I have been to countless councellors, I have prayed, cried, kept journals, had hypnosis, developed drug addictions and so much more; yet I always come back to the same empty, confused and devestated state that I am currently suffering. I am now 8 weeks pregnant to my amazing husband and I am absolutely petrified that something will happen to my children, or that I will suffocate them trying to prevent it. I just have no idea how to move on and get to a place where I can be at peace and not in pieces. More than anything, I wish I could forgive myself for allowing it to happen to my younger sister. Please 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 Maria

by Maria6
(California, USA)

My aunt had a boy friend (he was about 25 she was about 16) and every time I saw him he would give me the creeps, there was something about him that always made me want to stay away he just looked like a creep. He lived at my grandma’s house but he usually worked a lot so he was almost never there. I was only 7 years old and I was feeling sick so I didn’t go to school and my grandma told my mom that she would take care of me so my mother dropped me off at her house because she had to work. When I got their my grandma told me that she had to do some gardening and so she was going to be in the back yard if I needed anything and so she put on The Little Mermaid and went outside to do her gardening in the back yard. About 20 Min in the movie he got their and he asked me in Spanish "Where is your grandma" and since I was scared of him I just said "I don't know" and he asked "is there anyone in the house besides you?" and I said no. and so he smiled and said "Why don't you come and sit here on me" and I said no leave me alone. he said " look you stupid little bitch if you don't come over here and sit here I’m going to tell your dad that you are being bad and he is going to whip you with the belt like last time" (and since my dad was an alcoholic he used to beat me with the belt for anything) I was really scared and I got up but I didn’t sit on him I just stood next to him and that’s when he pulled me by my pig tales and forced me on his lap then he started touching me I started to cry and scream, then he ripped my underpants and he started rubbing me in my genitals and made me touch his penis and made me rub it up and down and then he stopped and told me that he was going to put it inside me because that’s what I wanted and that’s all girls where good for and that I was going to like it and I started screaming at the top of my lugs and I was kicking him and scratching him and trying to bite him and he said if you don't stop screaming I’m going to put it in your mouth instead of where you want it ... I started gagging and I bit down as hard as I could on his penis then I started tasting blood in my mouth and he was screaming and he was punching me as hard as he could he punched me at least 7 or 8 times on my head then he knocked me out and threw me across the living room and across the kitchen then I hit the wall and woke up and saw him walking towards me and I got up and ran to my grandmothers bedroom and into her closet that locked from the inside and he started trying to open it and just then my grandma comes inside the house and hears him and she asked what is going on here and he said nothing and left. Then my grandma asked me to open the door and I did and I told her what had happened and she told me that I was stupid and that I had just dreamed it but when I said no it was not a dream I’m not stupid and she slapped me and said that it was my fault for being a slut and that if I told anyone else that no one would like me because even if he didn’t put it in everyone would think that I was already used and I was dirty. So I didn’t tell anyone until the day that I turned 18 I told my parents and they cried with me.im going to turn 19 in a few weeks.

But I still have never been able to have sex with any of my boyfriends every time I tried I felt dirty and nasty and I would see his ugly face and I would just freak out and start crying. I don't know what to do. I need help. I have been thinking very hard about this and I think that the reason why I have not been able to get over it is because my aunt that was going out with this creep got raped by him about 3 or 4 weeks after what he did to me. I feel that if I had said something to my mom and dad my aunt would have not gotten raped by him she still does not know what he did to me. I think that if I could tell my aunt about what happened then maybe it could help me. I don't know what to do.




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Child Abuse Story From LD

by LD
(Massachusetts, USA)

Didn't Realize My Parents Were Abusive: 
I'm 37, and growing up in the 1980s, I was hit by both my parents. Typically upper body, sometimes a slap in the face, never a spanking. At the time, I just accepted it as regular parenting. I don't remember them leaving marks, it's possible though. I never really considered it abusive until somewhat recently. A therapist of mine some years ago pointed out to me that I should consider it abuse. It's recently come up again - I'm in a life coaching program, and they suggested I find an online resource to discuss this, and that's what brings me here.

I think there have been some lingering effects on me caused by this. I'm anxious in social situations, I avoid conflict, I don't take chances like I could, and I worry about getting hurt. I feel that today I am shut off from my emotions, it's very difficult for me to get angry.

I did speak to my dad about all of this last night, and there was some amount of closure for me. He agreed with me and with where I was coming from with the whole thing. I hope that with time the issues I struggle with will improve.




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 Kate

by Kate
(Canada)

Sexual Abuse: 
The horrific memories of my life started when I was 4 or 5 (I'm not quite sure) Every summer me and my brother would go off to visit family. We would stay with my aunt and uncle, I remember my uncle going up the stairs with a small bag of chips, and I had asked him if I could have some. He told me to "c'mere" so I followed him up the stairs right to the back bedroom. He told me to lye down and told me to take off my pants. (he had a hook and only one hand from an accident that happened years before). I remember looking up at him, and he was just staring down at me. I felt discomfort, scared, and most of all confused at what was happening. I lyed back down and he climbed on top of me. I remember hearing him breathing heavily. I can remember his scent, to this day I can remember the smell clearly like it happened yesterday. It makes me sick. I remember feeling him penetrate, sliding his genital against mine. When it was over, I felt like the whole world changed, Outside looked more different to me, the couch didnt feel the same when i sat on it, emotionally speaking. I didn't feel the same, I felt like i had lost everything and I couldn't understand why. Inside emotionally I was feeling like I had anxiety, losing air,like i was runningg, everything inside me felt completely different. Very scary feeling to have when you're too young to understand what's going on, and why you're having these feelings. That was the first time I had ever been molested. The abuse went on after that. twice a week. I came back home to my parents. Starting out in kindergarten. I only went half a day, so during the mornings my cousin would babysit me. He was about 16 at the time, and He would make me give him oral, make me watch porn, and I remember asking for water one time and he wouldn't allow me to have any until I was done pleasuring him. That went on for about 4 months. Another one is when me and my bestfriend were in 2nd grade I believe. My cousin who is female forced us to get naked and stand in front of her (both at different times)while she would laugh at our naked bodies. This has effected me a lot. I'm ashamed of my body, ashamed of what I look like,...she also made me do other things with boys I knew. She tried making us have sex, she would make another boy chase me around with his penis..scaring me. I feel disgusted with what happened, dirty, hurt, angry, sad, confused. Words cant express what it feels like. Massive mixed emotions!!!!!. Flashbacks are what get to me. I feel worthless, unwanted, nasty, no self esteem, everything I see in my friends I wish I had. I wish I could feel beautiful, I wish I could feel wanted, I wish I could feel like I'm worthy. I wish I could believe that someone will one day actually love me for me and not what they want. This is horrible to live with. I'm nearly 20 and its effected me in so many possible. Everything was stolen from me. But we can get that back. Healing journey. It'll take time and courage and strength to deal with these things. I wish everyone else in the same situation the best of luck!




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 Darcie

by Darcie
(Location Undisclosed)

I hated my dad, people always said "Hate is such a strong word." I knew it, I was 7 and I knew what I was saying when I said I hated him, and I meant it. My mother was different, I loved her, whenever she was around my dad was like every other dad. The only bad thing: my mother was the one who worked full time, my dad had lost his job and decided to be a stay at home dad for my brothers and I. My dad loved my older brothers, he would play catch with them while I scrubbed the dinner dishes in burning hot water, we had a dish washer, but I was not allowed to use it. My dad convinced my brothers that I had a disease, that if they came near me, they would catch it too, and that is why he didn't love me. I was instantly outcasted from my brothers, they hated me as much as I hated them.My dad would tie sheets to poles in the basement and tie my wrists to them he would leave me down there for days when my mom was on buisness trips. When I was tied up down there my dad would charge people he found on the street, or sometimes our neighbors to come and do whatever with me. When they would finish they would write "Whore" on me with a sharpie. I later found out my mom knew of the abuse but did nothing because she loved my dad.
When I was 9 my mother died of cancer, and I knew I wouldn't be safe again. My dad got a part time job, I made more than he did when I was tied up in the basement. He stopped feeding me, saying I was fat, and unappealing to my customers, I felt like something being sold at Walmart. One day when I came home from school I shut the door to loud and woke up my dad, he took the iron, heated it up, and held it to my back and stomach. When he was done with that he pulled me by my hair upstairs and beat me with his belt, then he raped me. He moved my room to the basement, my "office" he called it, he said he didn't want to look at me, that I disgusted him. He allowed my brothers to beat me when they had a bad day, sometimes they would bring their friends to beat me just for fun, or they would charge them to rape me.
On my 10th birthday my dad was fired from his part time job, I had stayed home from school becuase of the beatings from the previous days. He got home in an angry rage and thre me up against the walls. he dragged me up stairs and beat me with his belt, but that wasn't good enough, he threw me down the basement stairs and beat me with his fists, he grabbed my brothers old baseball bat and beat me with that, he raped me again after that. He dragged me upstairs and filled the tub up with burning hot water and threw me in, trying trying to drown me in it. He pulled out the scicorss and cut me and my hair. I broke my arm, 4 fingers, my ankle, and had 2nd degree burns. Th docotor kept asking me what happened, I couldn't tell him, I didn't know why but I couldn't speak, and I didn't for the next year. When was 11 my dad sold me to a man he met at bar, I thought life would get better, but it didn't. He turned me into a prostitute, beating me if I didn't meet the "25 customer line" I would lie about how many men I had been with, one day he found out, and beat me until I passed out. I still went to school, I was the mute girl by day, and the prostitute by night. One day before my 12th birthday my teacher finally broke me and I told her all about what was happening, and what had happened. She sent me home though, she said she would call the police and they would come to get me. My "owner" (as he liked to be called) was mad though, two of the girls he was supposed to buy had run away. He took his anger out on me, he tried to drown me in the toilet and then beat me with a block of wood he tore from the wall. He was drunk and high,I could tell. He burnt me over the stove and threw me through a glass window. I woke up in the hospital, and learned that my dad had disapeared and no one knew his where abouts, and my "owner" had over doised after he beat me, he died. I broke my leg and wrist, broke the same 4 fingers again and had 2nd degree burns again. I was in the hospital for 2 weeks. I'm 14 now, and my dad still hasn't been found, I live with my foster parents and I live in constant fear that my dad will come back for me. Many of the men who had raped me I've seen around, and the way they still look at me scares me. I hate the fact that none of the men who abused me have been arrested, they'll get away with it. I hate that. I hate being in constant fear, I hate what happened to me. I guess I still hate alot of things.




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Child Abuse Story From Linda B

by Linda B
(Location Undisclosed)

My child abuse started very early with being molested by my uncle with my mothers knowledge, when I was a toddler. I really began to fight for my life when my mother started poisoning me after blaming me for her lover breaking up with her. (when she introduced us, I punched him in the nose, because he picked me up and held me high in the air and it scared me, I was about 6). After my dad hearing her on the phone telling friends that she didn't think I had much time left, my dad got a doctor to come to the house and a little hydration and no more antifreeze eventually got me better. I am not really sure what the poison was, (I was 6) but I figured out it was poison when after a few days in bed without anything to eat or drink she came in and in the most nurturing voice, told me she had something for me to get me all better, and fed me a teaspoon of it which immediately had its poisonous effect on me, so I lost consciousness, but after I woke up I continue to play possum and finally a doctor arrived. After that people from DSS would show up from time to time , but I have to say that they didn't slow her down. After that rather than give me a time out, she would stick my head in the toilet and try to drown me. Then she discovered electricity and would untie the wires of a lamp and stick me with the live wires, I have to say I was never quite the same after that, daily electrocution does take its toll.
Being hit with belts and hangers was child's play after being poisoned. I am posting this because 45 years later when left alone she still falls back to her abusive self, so I am thinking that there is no recovery for being a child abuser. Oh did I mention my dad humped me so bad from behind at the age of about 5 that my back hasn't been right since. I have also had collapsed lungs from beatings, I could go on and on, blah blah blah, I think you get the idea, I was raised by people who had no self control and now her defense is she doesn't remember. Well I do. She is out of my life. My siblings have always turned a blind eye, and I know its because if they said or did anything they would be next so I don't blame them, but we are big people now and to pretend like they can't understand why I don't want to be involved with them is insulting, but then again after being poisoned, humped, drowned, beaten, whats a little insult?




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Child Abuse Story From A Girl With Brown Eyes

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Today I face the fact that my whole life is a big complete lie and this is bc i have a secret that only one of my friend know about. It all started at the end of 8TH grade. My mom has always had a problem with drinking but has never hurt me before that night. It was just a regular day and when i came home i could tell she was mad so i stay clear of her. Later that night i was yelling at my sister and she came into my room and started yelling at me so i started yelling back and she punched me in the face and she punched me over and over again till i passed out. The next morrnig i had two black eyes. My mom said she was so sorry and would never do it again. But a couple of days later she was drinking again when i came home and got mad at me and beat me again but this time it was differnet i remeber the evil in her eye when she was beating me. After that beating i ended up in the hospital with 4 broken ribs and beatn up face. Then the social workers came to "try and help and save us" thats not what they do at all. Anyways they came to the hospital and asked me what happened and i told them i fell down the stairs. I could not tell them the truth bc i still thought my mom could change. But it dident after i got out of the hospital the beatens got more often and worse. And people started asking me why i always had bruises on my arms and face. I have been in the hospital three other times bc of her and social workers are up my a** trying to get me to open up with them. so there is my story and now hopefully i can get out and stop the beating from my mom.




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Child Abuse Story From Maddy

by Maddy1
(Germany)

I used to live with my mum my stepdad and my uncel. My biological dad left my mum when she was pregnant and I have never seen him. He never called or showed up. I am not even sure if he knows I live.
My Mum married when I was 2 years old. This is strange I dont know how to write this.
My stepfather is not a bad person i think but he used to beat me a lot. I remember this day when I was about 4 and he had to work at night and would only come back at 3 at night. So I slept with my mum in her bed and when my dad came home they woke me to tell me I should go to my own bed. I didnt want to. My dad started beating me and I cried and screamed. I run to my bed and on the way he hit me so hard that it pushed me against the wall. The worst about it I have a little brother now and he is allowed to sleep with them whenever he wants. I never tried it again.
When I was older we moved in a new house. My mum had to work a lot and my dad would take care of us since he was working at night. I remember that both were really stressed and my dad agressive. When my mum went to work I always started crying and run along the street because I didnt want her to go. That made my dad angry and he beat me. I dont now how old I was but I must have been about 6 when he first touched me. My mum wasnt at home. And he always wanted me and my sister but especially me to knead his back. I hated it but I did it. This one day I did it again and then he had his hand in my private area. I was confused and scared but I didnt say anything. He stick his finger into me and it hurt. He told me that this was our little secret and noone had to know. It was normal between daughter and father to have secrets. I believed him and I would never talk about it. He didnt do it again. The beating went on and I remember times when he would let me come in the house. He hit my sister and me. He was never like this to my mum. My mum knew of it but she didn say anything. I know her dad did that to her to. He hit her a lot. My dad threw my schoolbag away, somedays he wouldnt allow us to go to school. I am the only black peson in our family what made me an outsider. My sister started to hate me. She would say a lot of bad things. She still says them. telling me I was a slut and that I should go away to my dad because I wasnt part of this family. It hurt me. My Mum does nothing about it. I felt completely alone. I now have 2 little brothers and a sister. And my sister still say all those things when she is angry and she is still hurting me. I often tell my mum that she should make her stop but she wouldnt say anything. She tells my dad that we are fighting and he would get angry on me. We moved when I was eleven. My uncle lived with us and he had a drug problem. We had a coffeshop and my dad was the baker. After school I had to work there. I worked a lot but they would never see it. I couldnt really concentrate on school but they never understand it. Instead I got beats for it. My mum and my dad caleed me a piece of s**t and stuff. It made me feel worthless. At the same time I had problems at school because I was descriminated because of my colour. They called me a Nigger slut and stuff. I hated school but when i changed to highschool it changed. I loved school and hated home. My dad started touching me again and this time it was worse.
I was scared I knew it wasnt right but I couldn say anything. i didnt tell him to stop so thats why I still think it was my fault.I bleed. He hurt me. Touching my boobs and telling me that they were getting bigger. It made me feel embaressed. He did it when my mum was away. Or when she was working downstairs.
I remember my mum asking me if I would tell her if someone would do such things to me (that was before that all happened)and I said no. She was uspet and told me that I had to tell her.
This touching went on and at the same time we had big problems because of my uncle. prostitutes in our house. I had a room next to his and I heared them at night. I was discusted and scared. Then my dad stopped and I thought it was over and everything was okay but it wasnt. I felt unloved. He hit me a lot for what my brothers or my sister did. I hated home. I didnt had a lot of close and they would never let me do anything with friends so I started to skkip french class and go to my friends home every monday. It was the best time ever except for the D in french.
There came a time when I got nightmares and I was scared of my dad I was scared of being alone with him. My uncles drug things on one side, working everyday on the other. It was just to much for me. i wrote it down and left the letter for my mum before going to school. When I came back home I was scared. She was waiting there with my dad. And we talked about it. She wanted me to tell her what he did but i couldnt. Do you know whats worst? She didnt believe me. She thought I was telling that because I hated my stepfather. They thought about getting devorced and my sister started to balme me. I thought I was the victim but everyone blamed me. My sister and brothers for making my parents think about getting devorced, my mum for ruining her marriage. She only come to me once and told me it was not my fault. But noone would talk to me.
However they didnt get devorced. We all acted like it never happened. And moved to turkey. Once my mum came and asked if I was still saying that my dad did that to me and I was scared, I was scraed that she would choose him and leave me alone.So I said "I dont know...I am not sure"
That was the last time we talke about it.
My mum knows and my dad and noone else. Noone believed me.This year I was in a camp with teenagers and it was the first time I realzied that I am not the only one. I opened up to a girl I met there.
Still I cant talk about it with my parents. Not about the touching, not about the drug thing of my uncle not about the beating. My mum says leave the past int the past but I cant.
I cant trust people I am scared of intimacy.
I loved this guy from my school and I told him about it and then i realized that the only thing he wante was to sleep with me. I was so disappointed and I still am. I wanted someone to love me. Nothing else. I am not asking for much am I?
I always wanted a baby and I still want one. This little innocent thing that would love me and that I could love. That would need me.But I dont think I could sleep with someone and be with someone. But sometimes I think it may be not that bad. To get a baby you could do that. Just lay down and wait it to be over?
I need to talk about this but I feel like they always make me shut up. My mum doesnt want me to see an psychologist. I am depressed, I am scared. I cant trust anyobody. Or better I always trust the worng persons.
I feel ashamed and guilty. I started touching myself early and I dont want it. I feel dirty and embaressed I hate myself but I cant stop. Everytime I think about Sex it feels so wrong. I never think about it as a nice thing. Its always related with pain and violence and me not wanting it.
I want a baby but at the same time I think that it would be better not to have kids. I am scared that the same things would happen to them. I hate dads. Whenever I think about having a family I think it would be better without a man. I dont get over it. My mum thinks eveything is okay but nothing is okay. I love my stepdad but at the same time I hate him. I hate him from all my heart and I have a lot of anger built up inside. I cant talk about it with my family cause then again they would blame me for destroying the family.
I am 17 now. I never had a boyfriend. But there was a thing with a guy touching my leg and I know that he didnt want to hurt me and he would have stopped if I had told him too but i couldnt say anything.I feel weak, and helpless. I am scared of the world. I cant be alone with guys. Even with my teachers.
I dont feel save. I hate boys looking at me. I just feel uncomfortable.
I just graduated from higschool and I can finally get away from home.
I love my mum and my brothers yes even my sister and my dad. But I cant be with them anymore. I feel out of place.
My mum never believed me. She choose her marriage over me. I dont blame her for that but it makes me sad. She is all I have but I dont feel like I could count on her.
Besides we are religious and virginity was always important but I am not even sure if I am still a virgin. It all makes me feel sick.
I feel alone so alone. i cant tell anybody. Noone would understand. My own mother didnt belive me....
I dont think I will be able to have a normal realationship. Whenever I date a guy I feel bad. I cant do it. I cant even hold his hand.
But I dont want to be alone. I want a boyfriend I want someone to really love me. But all they do is use me. Thinking I am a slut and trying to make me sleep with them. How can I trust someone? It is so hard. I still hate myself for it all thinking it was my fault cause I could have sid that he shoudl stop it but I didnt...why? I dont know. I want this feeling to end, I want to start over but it is so hard.




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 Leaseal

by Donna
(Texas, USA)

I want to forgive them but i can't. My life was perfect until I was 7,and my real dad left. After my real dad left mom started going to the bars leaving me and my 8 older brothers home. The first time she brought my step dad home i was 8. i was doing my spelling homework and he told me i was never going to be smart. Mom started doing the dishes and he told her to stop then he made me stop doing my homework and do the dishes. that was the first time i ever met him. that night he came in my bedroom and made me touch him as he touched me. when mom and him got married he started making me clean the whole house, and i had to have it done before he came home. He would always find something wrong and when he did he would take the belt to my back. My mom would watch him beat me. by the age of nine i had to make supper for the family. if my step dad didn't like it he throw his plate at me and beat me in front of my brothers they would yell "hit again" so he would. when i was ten he didn't even need a reason to beat me he just did. on my 10th birthday he told me i was fat ugly and no one has or will ever love me. he told me God mad me to be a slave. when i started crying he slapped me. later that night he made me go with him to his room mom was there too. he made me lay down as he raped me my mom watched and didn't say a word. when i went to school i told the teach what my step dad did she told me i needed to stop lying. i guess she told my step dad i told her because when i got home he throw me into the wall, and kicked me. He told me if i ever told anyone ever again i would die. my brothers would mess up the house to watch me get beat. when i was 12 my step dad told my brother i was there slave so the could beat me too. one night i told my step dad i was sick of being beat. that was the biggest mistake of my life. he turned on the stove and made me put my arm on it for 2 minutes. them put me in a ice bath then while i was still wet he took a belt to my back. by the age of 14 i had to do the bills. he got to the point where if he saw me he would hit me and if i cryed he would get mad and say, "only weak people cry so stop it." the night i will never forget is when my brother beat me so bad that he broke my wrist ant 2 ribs. when i was 15 i started saving all the change i found. by the age of 17 i had $1300 so i moved out i am 18 now. every time i close my eyes i see what he did to me. i wonder if the pain will ever go away.




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 Gabby

by Gabby
(Washington, DC, USA)

When I was around 5 years old, I was first being molested by teenagers at my afterschool babysitter's house. THere were other small children who were also being affected and the teens were teaching the children to do things to each other as well. So, because all of us were children (including the teens), I did not know it was wrong, persay, I did not know I should report it. The teens would tell us not to tell adults. So I would go home and I had a playmate at home who I would show what I had learned.
Well one day we were caught by my friend's father. Instead of him calling my parents and telling them what he had seen, he decided to wait until I came back to his home and teach me a lesson. So I was molested maybe 3-4 times by a grown adult man whom my parents trusted as a family friend and neighbor. He told me not to tell.
I did not feel right about the encounters so I simply stopped going over there. I kept the secret to myself until one day a girlfriend (when I was about 7 and she was nine) told me that I had to tell my Dad. So I did and I felt so awful as though I was going to get in trouble. But instead my father cried, embraced me, called the cops and reassured me I had done nothing wrong. Looking back and seeing other people's stories, I realize I was lucky that my father responded in this way. He had also been abused as a child and was made to feel ashamed and wrong instead of supported and loved. He did not want me to feel that way.
I am now a grown, married woman getting ready to have my first child and already feel very protective of the baby I will soon have. If there is a way for me to keep predators away from her, I will spend my entire life figuring that 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 Olivia1

by Olivia
(Texas, USA )

Getting MY story out there: 
Me and my brother are both adopted. Thankfully our parents decided to tell us since we were babies. I love my parents both of them still to this day. I just don't understand the pain and suffering that God has allowed us to be put in! My mom had always been loving and caring. The best mom ever! When I was six I was sitting in the car, she told me that we would be going to a store to pick out clothes for me. Ive never liked trying on clothes! I said that I didn't want to go and then she slapped me across the face. Hard. I don't know why she did. I just remember it being the first time where I didn't know what I had done to deserve punishment. After that day things in our house started to crumble.

I remember going in my room and crying for hours on end. If she caught me crying she would "spank" me. Her meaning of spanks where the belt BUCKLE. Another thing she did was bite me and my brother. When I would tell someone she would use the excuse that I did it. She would throw pots and pans at us. Threaten us with knifes, or ice picks. I couldn't tell her no or I would just be beat. She would tell me and my brother that we are going to hell. That we were pieces of crap. God didn't love us. She would pull my hair. Throw things at me and my brother. Books, cleaning bottles, just anything she could get her hands on. Your probably wondering where was my dad in all of this. He didn't know everything she was doing, and if he tried to intervene my mom would make sure that he felt guilty. My mom is a very good manipulator she could make you believe anything. The worst part of the whole experience is not getting anyone to believe me because she would go to churches and anything and tell them my dad is doing it. I cant stress this enough. If you are in a abusive situation .. do anything ANYTHING IN YOUR POWER TO GET OUT!!! My parents divorced and I live with my step mom dad brother and step brother I still love my mom even with everything she put us though. I used to ask myself why I was put in my family why another family couldn't adopt me and my brother. I know why God put me in that family. Its because I have a story.. my story... to share with everyone! Anyone who needs hope that they can get our of abusive situations! And you can! If you're too scared to tell anyone...Don't be, you will be listened to! I'm 15 and I did it! It was the second best decision ive made in 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 Diana

by Diana
(Location Undisclosed)

I never thought that I was abused, I thought that what happened to me wasn't bad enough to qualify. I still wonder. It was probably emotional abuse and abandonment, maybe a dash of neglect thrown in. I have had a hard time getting my life together, mostly in terms of feeling unworthy and flawed in a fundamental way, so socially life is hard-I am alone a lot. I also cannot sleep without prescription medicine, have never been able to sleep since age 18.

My father left my mother and I, when I was little. My mother started drinking. I remember being 6 and making fruit cocktail for dinner and threatening to kill myself, taking a knife out of the drawer, if I couldn't get my way. Or, trying to call my grandmother for help and being scared of the long distance operator. I loved my mother, she was sweet and kind, but drunk a lot of the time-not mean though, just in pain and self absorbed. Before my mother killed herself she was hospitalized and dropped out of my life for a year, then she was gone. I was sent to live with cousins.

I then lived with an emotionally abusive step mother for 5 years, whom my Dad had married. Daily abuse, putting me down, humiliating me, that kind of thing, you will just have to trust me that it was pretty horrible, probably people reading this can relate what it is like to constantly be made to feel you are lesser than. My Dad began drinking heavily and rejected me when I told him I wasn't happy. Then he left (again), but did not take me with him. By this time I was disconnected from my mother's side of the family, I don't know why exactly.

I read this and want to write more to convince people that my life was difficult, I feel people will say it wasn't that bad-people have. People have said "well at least you were not sexually abused". I don't want to sound whiney but I also don't feel I can convey my story well enough, I don't know...try to imagine being little, the people you love disappear, and the people you grow up with tell you how horrible you are! Oh! it's Cinderella, no prince though, rats.

I have done things I don't understand, mostly sleeping around and instances of embarressing myself socially, mostly things that I have said, while drinking-I have horrific social anxiety that I cannot control (I experience outward signs of anxiety that are embarressing). I am fearful of rejection and get tounge tied talking to people that I would like to get to know. I feel convinced that people I want to know find me a complete bore.

Outwardly I am sort of succesful. I have a very succesful and happy child-yay, a good paying job, supportive friends. People like me and think I am funny and have a good attitude. There are times when I just feel so much shame because of the things that I have done, that is the hardest. And, I go to social functions and feel I just don't fit. I am sure i come across as aloof or scared, thats embarressing. I feel that I could have been more professionally succesful if I wasn't so socially akward and embarressed by my akwardness and anxiety.

I have had years and years of therapy. I was taken advantage of by a "psychoanalytic therapist", Svengali Type. I finally found a therapist who understood what was going on and has helped tremendously. It is really hard to find the right person, I think. There are many out there who are just incompetent. I have seen a total of seven in my life. Two were outstanding, one took advantage, the other four just didn't get it.

The most important thing I can say is that I never give up (even though I am age 57). I have found this website, proof, I think, that I am always trying. I also do work that helps other people who are way worse off than I am. I am a little burned out, but working on renewing myself. I also have a "Bucket List", and am feeling hopeful about the future. I have my ups and downs, when I am up, life is great. Right now I am down...being alone is getting to me.

I wish I had something a little more helpful to say, maybe a couple of things. One thing that has held me back for years has been wanting to hide my feelings and to pretend I am just like everyone else. That was a big mistake. Also because I couldn't get my needs met in healthy ways, I resorted to unhealthy ways-hence the sleeping around, drinking and abusing prescription meds to hide the anxiety. God i sound awful...if you saw me walking down the street you would see a sweet, attractive for her age, respectable and polite woman!! Also if you feel that your therapist is not helping you, get out! You should start to feel better at the first visit. Yes the therapy gets very painful, but you should always feel that you have hope and are getting better. I am in the field of psychology, not as a therapist, but I have not only personal but professional experience with therapeutic technique and research. If you feel you are being taken advantage of by a therapist, discuss it with trusted friends and family.

OK! I am done! Thanks to anyone who reads this!!




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Child Abuse Story From Beth C

by Beth
(Illinois, USA)

I wanted to post my story, maybe to just get it off of my chest. I am a 43 year old woman. I was in the system from 2-18. My mother died when I was two. I was fortunate enough to have sisters who cared about me and had me removed from our abusive fathers care at two. I am one of eleven sisters. I went to live with sisters until ultimately one sister took me and another sister in as well. My mom passed with 6 minor children. I went to live with a sister who the courts sent me to live with not knowing that she had schitzophrenia. After being told I wasn't wanted there and that I didn't belong for 11 years, I turned to my other sisters and they just couldn't take me, so I turned myself into the state and went into foster care after being a ward of the state the past 11 years. I ended up going into a foster home where my natural sister already was. From January 1981-June 1985 I was in foster care, the rest of my life. I was legally adopted by my foster parents. During my stay, for whatever reason, my adopted mother had it in her mind that I was a piece of garbage. I had a chore list from day one and was told that I was too fat and ugly and had lived under a rock for 13 years. I started that day doing laundry, washing dishes by hand even though we had a dish washer, doing laundry for her, her husband, my natural sister, my other foster sister and her own three natural children. I was told I had to carry a C average in all classes. House was to be vaccumed every day, upstairs and down, dishes, setting table, sorting, washing, folding and putting away everyones laundry and making the beds for myself and her children. Getting her children up for school every day, getting their breakfast. Getting them ready for school, feeding the pets, cutting the grass, pulling the weeds in the garden. She hit me daily, told me I was stupid, shamed me, deprived me of food, going from 190 lbs. in January 1981 to 129 lbs. by March 1981. I was not allowed any food except an apple or an orange. I was weighed like cow every day. Told my natural family was no good and that I could never talk, share any corresponance with them of any form or talk to my natural sister in the home about anything that went on there. I went to school every day for six years with either a fat bloody swollen lip, black eye, bruises, beating marks. I actively went to church, went to Chatechism, was an acoliter, collected offering, filled the mail boxes, emptied them, counted offering, cleaned communion cups, cooked at every breakfast for the church. After feeling like I was going to die, waking up every day wanting to die, and trying to kill myself for four years, I went to the pastor of my church and asked him to keep everything confidential. He said that he would, and then he went back to not just my foster mother, but also my adopted family, who were major financial supporters of the church and president of the board of said church. I got in more trouble. My sister tried to protect me and turned her in only to back down and causing me more trouble. My gym teacher saw the marks from a metal yardstick on my back and called her on the phone to confront her and she was waiting for me when I came home with some more abuse. I got sick while in foster care and got paritonitis and almost died, my stomach blew up and I recovered. She fed me laxatives, boxes and boxes as a way to be thin as she wanted me to be. If all of that wasn't enough, her two natural sons each had a paper route. They never delivered the papers in six years. I did. Ever day, in any weather, holes in my shoes, socks, no gloves, coat, by the boarder of Wisconsin. When I got in my 8th grade year, I got a full time job in the summer. The state paid me to take a trade school job over the summer and she demanded my pay checks and told me she opened an account for me in my name and was saving them so that I would have money to buy my own clothes for high school. When high school started I asked for the money and she told me I would need it cause she couldnt' help me pay for anything and I would need it to survive on when I turned 18 and graduated High School. In August just before starting my freshman year in 1981 I was legally adopted. She told me and my sister that we were each getting a check in the mail for $22,000. I don't know what for, maybe a death benefit never received by my dead mother or maybe Social Security my sister never was paid. I didn't know that the state of Illinois paid her every month that I was in her care out of my natural fathers social security. I was worked like a dog, ran their own business for them and was paid alomost nothing and nobody cared. Not a teacher, not a caseworker when I ran away at 16 or the state of Illinois. Not the IRS when I told them that I paid into taxes for 4 years when I worked for them and she took it out of my pay. Not social security when I tried to see how that all worked, not DCFS when I turned her in to them. Not my bank when I got the micro fiche clearly showing my signature was forged on every check and that I never made one withdrawal from my savings account. Not one person in my home, nobody. I am still trying to learn how not to be a door mat for people to walk on. When I turned 18 six years of working was for nothing but the lessons that I learned. I became homeless and penniless at 18 had a baby by myself at 19. I am still trying to forget all of this but honestly I just can't. Thank you for letting me vent on here.




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Child Abuse Story From Annie5

by Annie
(USA)

My father was an angry, abusive, alcoholic who physically, sexually, and emotionally abused his family. He was always walking around in his boxer shorts with his genitals hanging out, exposing himself. I remember when I was approximately six or seven years old, his favorite thing to do was take me to the drive-in movie, give me beer, and penetrate me with his fingers. Another thing he liked to do was take me swimming in our pool and remove his trunks and make me swim through his legs. He would touch me inappropriately and put his tongue in my mouth. I would get the occasional violent beating with the belt and smacked so hard in my face that my ears would ring. What's even more bizarre is that my mother was aware of the abuse and she hated me for it. She belittled me every chance she got! She was afraid of my father and was also a victim of domestic violence, called a whore, and had guns held against her head. I'm an adult woman now in my forties but I am still suffering the psychological effects from my childhood abuse. My mother is long dead, and my father is in prison because my little sister put him away for her horrific sexual abuse (way worse than mine)! Thanks for reading my story. You are not alone out there.




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Child Abuse Story From Amy3

by Amy
(Location Undisclosed)

I was looking for myself in these stories and couldn't find me, so I thought I would share. I remember a great deal of my childhood. Except for second grade. I can't remember my teacher, or the classroom, or anything at all. However, by the age of nine, I realize now, I was acting out. I was compulsively masturbating over and over until I was raw and sore. It progressed to nightmare fantasies of women being tortured for the pleasure of men, their female parts distorted and used as tools like trash cans and wine bottles while I masturbated. I felt horrible and dirty and hid everything while I put anything I could find into my body.

I was ten years old.

I participated in voluntary sexual experimentation with at least four other girls in our neighborhood over the next few years. No one was coerced, we were simply exploring the changes in our bodies. But I continued to masturbate frequently, and put things inside me.

I started trying to have sex with men at 14, succeeded by 15. I was with a manipulative, controlling man who was 9 years older. My first sexual experience, I didn't bleed at all. But sex always hurt, and I thought that was normal, that sex was painful and emotionally degrading.

I have been in four long term relationships over the years. Every one of the men turned out to be a sex addict who abused me emotionally and sexually. I experience panic attacks at the idea of being spanked on my birthday. I often sleep with my back to a wall because I am afraid someone is going to come up behind me and stab me with something sharp. I would likely have become a sex addict with full acting out except that I have chronic pelvic pain and always hurt up inside for days after sex.

I am 47 now, and wonder what I can't remember, that has driven me all these years. Maybe it was so bad that it is best I can't remember.

I thought this would be longer.




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Child Abuse Story From Briony

by Briony
(England)

Child abuse by my cousins: 
This story is my story of the child abuse I've had in the past. It may not seem as bad as other peoples stories on this website,but it was still so horrible.

It all started when I was 9 and my cousin was one year older. He always used to grab my hand and told me to follow him. I used to follow because I got scared what happened if I didn't. He used to lock us both in the bathroom and he would kiss me and touch up my body. I didn't like the way he was touching me but I didn't protest.

When I was 12,he still used to do this to me but now,his older brother started to get interested in me too. He was older than me by 4 years. My older cousin used to block the door to my bedroom and said he wanted to play 'games' with me. I agreed, thinking something totally different to what he was going to do to me. He stripped me down to just my knickers and bra and used to play around with my body and used to rub my knickers and used to play around with my developing chest. I was terrified but I never said anything to anyone because I never thought it mattered.

After a year,my older cousin stopped and I was so pleased but then I had to deal with my cousin who was one year older than me. But then he even stopped for a bit.

Then came the night.It was Christmas day and one of my uncles owned a hotel so we had Christmas day there.He kept wanting me to drink alcohol,only being 13,I didn't want to but he ended up forcing it down my throat,telling me to be a good girl. He may of only been one year older but he was already much bigger, taller and stronger than me. Iv'e always been so little and fragile as well. He asked me to explore upstairs with him so I said okay. We then went down this windy hallway and eventually got to the end room. He told me to step inside and I did,then he stepped in and locked the door as the key was already in the door. I told him to let me out but instead he forced me up against the wall and made out with me. He then pulled up my dress and penetrated me. He then told me to do stuff to him and I refused and started getting really upset. He told me that he would beat me if I didn't do as he said. Even then,I ran to the door and started banging on it,screaming. He then put his hand over my mouth and whacked my head against the door. I felt so dizzy that I could hardly move. He then took this to his advantage and raped me.

After that,I cried so much and never ever told anyone because I was too scared and now I'm 15 and still haven't told anyone. He doesn't do it now because he has a girlfriend and so does my other cousin. Still ,the memories haunt me. I'm too scared to tell my boyfriend who I have loved for over a year. It feels good to let it out on here. So thank you for letting me get it out of my system.




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Child Abuse Story From John3

by John
(Maryland, USA)

Warning, this story may be graphic, but I feel that I must share this. My story began at the tender age of 11. Prior to this time, I had no sexual knowledge and no idea what sex even was. However, that all changed on one cold January day in 1993. My godmother had picked up me and my brother and kept us from that Thursday until Saturday. How I loved going with her. That evening, she took me back to my mother's house and I was so glad to finally have the opportunity to have some time to myself after being surrounded by my godmother & her children. I was going to watch television & sleep (or so I thought). My mother told my brother & I that her friend whom I will call Mrs. J was having a sleepover for her son I'll call E. I begged my mother to let me stay home and chill since I had been out all weekend, but no could do she said I needed to develop socially and this would be good.

Now, I fast forward to E's sleepover. I was always the shy kid in the crowd. However, none of that seemed to matter here. There was pizza, candy, ice cream, cake and movies basically everything for a good party. I was so glad I came (but I spoke too soon). E had three uncles who were 16, 17, and 18 respectively. They continued to ask the other children why they couldn't all be good and well behaved like I was. Unlike the older kids in my neighborhood, they actually wanted me around them and made me feel like I was in the in crowd.

Then it happened. They mentioned that no one had better go to sleep as they were going to be playing "jokes" on the people who fell asleep. I didn't think twice as I watched the movie and was chilling out. But remember, I had stated that all weekend I had been out. So I nodded off a little. Their 1st joke, toothpaste on my face, ha ha real funny, but I washed my face and came back and watched the movie.

Next time, about an hour later I nodded off. Then, I was awakened by someone tapping me lightly. When I lifted my head, I was held down by the 16 year old uncle who sat across my chest. The other two pulled my underwear down and began to fondle my penis, I tried to yell for them to stop, but they kept going while the other boys at the sleepover laughed. E's oldest uncle even made the comment watch this and started rubbing the head of my penis causing it to become erect. I thought I would die. Eventually they stopped, but that was just the beginning.

At one point during the evening I was dragged off the couch and when I tried to resist, I was taken in a back room by the 17 year old uncle and E himself. Then, the other 2 came in and held my arms down and said again "watch this." The 17 year old this time took off my underwear and put objects into my rectum and began to play again with my genitals. E laughed hysterically and went and got a few of his friends to watch.

They also grabbed other "weaker" young men throughout the evening and did this to them. One of them, they even went as far as to strip his clothes off and touch all over him at will. I was forced to watch it take place. Everyone was laughing, but deep inside I felt sorry for these young men who were also victims of these perverts.

The next day, I was a wreck and I told my parents who called Ms. J. From what I was told she had merely scolded E's uncles for doing what they did. But that did little to console me. I sank into a world of depression that I sometimes re-experience.

Ms. J and my mother are still good friends and E's son plays with my nephew and niece from time to time. E must not remember what happened, because it is never mentioned, but I do clearly. After years of keeping this in silence I felt that I must speak out. E's uncle (the 18 year old one) is in jail now (10 years and 3 victims later). I feel terrible that he did this to other people and I was unable to stop him.

Thank you for allowing me to share my story,
John




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Child Abuse Story From Lola

by Lola
(Location Undisclosed)

I was mentally, physically, and sexually abused from when I was 4, until I was 10. It was 3 of my brothers friends, one girl, and my father. My father would only beat and molest me. My brothers friends, and the girl, would rape, molest, belittle, and beat me. One boy only lasted a few months, then he moved away. Then there was another boy, that lasted all six years. Then the OTHER boy, that lasted for about 3 years. I've been raped and molested over 30 times. I was beaten all the time, and talked down to, made fun of, hurt. My body is so screwed up from all the abuse, I can barely even look at myself. I have tried to end my life, many of times. But I can't do it. My mother is disabled so I have to stay around to take care of her, even though she hates me. She did offer to get me help though, but I turned it down because my father put a gun to my head and told me if I took her help, then he'd kill me, and her. Only a few of my friends know about the abuse, and I don't live with my father anymore, I live with my mother and step-dad. I'm 13 now, and I still suffer from depression, anxiety, paranoia, OCD, and post-traumatic stress. I mostly keep to myself, but it doesn't help that everyone hates me because I'm a lesbian. Well, that's part of my story, anyone else going through it, keep your head up. It'll all be okay, one day.




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Child Abuse Story From Claire

by Claire
(Location Undisclosed)

I am 32 old, I think i have emotional issues due to sexual abuse i experienced when I was a child. I used to go to my granparents house and my Grandfather abused me , I was 8 when it first happened, he made me come into his bed while my grandmother was in the garden, he did this to me a handful of times and i remeber he tried it again and i said NO. I never told my family this, I was a rebellious and troublesome teenager, then i went on to meet a man in my early 20's, he was a house devil, street angel, he used to hit me on a number of occasions and verbally abuse me, I left this relationship 3 years ago, I am now with a man I love very much, he is the nicest man ever! but I still have emotional issues, i get upset easily, he loves me but its become a problem for him as i get so upset about the smallest thing, he says my coping skills arent good at all and he thinks i still have issues from all whats happened to me. Ive been for just a few sessions of counselling before what should I do?




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Child Abuse Story From Tasha A

by Tasha A
(Delaware, Pennsylvania, USA)

I was probably at the most 5 years old when my abuse started by my father. My mother and father divorced when I was three years old and my father was awarded visitation rights over me every other weekend, which soon turned into every weekend. He was a Major alcoholic with a very bad temper. He would drink and get very violent, He would hit me and turn around and rape me. Telling me he loved me the whole while.
I was so scared to tell anyone afraid of what would happen if I did, Who would believe me and who would'nt? Who would hate me if I did? What would happen to my dad?
But as the years went on the abuse kept happening. I actually talked to my dad multiple times and asked him to stop, told him he was hurting me. And the only reply I would get is "This is what parents do to show there children there love for them, my parents did it to me too". he would try to make me believe it was ok.
Then when I was about 12 my father started forceing me to drink with him, to stay up all hours of the night partying. And if i refused I got beat. So I had no choice. Sometimes Im actually kind of thankful for that alcohol because I would be so drunk I didnt remember the abuse.
This went on until I was 16 years old when my father was sent to prison for indecent libertys with a minor with another girl. I vowed to myself that when he got out I would never allow him to touch me again. I stayed as far away from him as I could. I didnt visit him unless I had to. I finally moved a few states away with my now husband and Luckly I was able to have children and move on. Until 2005 my dad called me and told me he was going to kill himself. I of course tried to talk him out of it. But it didnt work. my dad hung himself.
Now I would be lieing if I said I wished he had'nt died. I know it sounds horrible to say your happy that someone is dead. But after what he put me through the only regret I have is that I didnt kill him myself. Im mad that he got the easy way out and Im the one left to suffer the pain. This will live with me for the rest of my life. I am currently looking for help to see if someone can give me the tools I need to cope with my anger. Because as of right now I dont know how to. I lash out every chance I get. I break things I go on rampages of insanity just breaking everything I possibly can. I have hurt myself multiple times, But been so angry I dont even remember doing it. I am at the end of my rope. I always thought I could handle my pain myself, just hold my head up and move on. but obviously I cant. So I am seeking help from those who have went through this themselves and Im hopeing they can tell me some tips on how to get through it.




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Child Abuse Story From Melody W

by Melody
(Utah, USA)

Lost childhood....lost father....hateful mother...post traumatic adult: 
My sister and i were beaten, sexually abused, driven out into the arizona desert.. and left being told Indians would kill us..left there for at least an hour.

she lied and told us our step dad was are dad...that the nice 'friend of the family' was just that....she even changed our last name for school. at 5 she took my sister and i into a room before the family friend came for another visit and just sprung on us that HE was our real dad..even at that young age we were glad because our step dad was so abusive...i had asthma...he would make me run until i had an attack...then would'nt let me sit up to breath..kept pushing me flat on my back...mom just stood there..this stepdad was a body builder...he would make us strip naked and beat us with a belt..so did my mom, her dad as well....when i made her mad she would make me wait for hours in my room till he got home, at which time she would have him beat me....he also used to pee on our faces, make us play with his penis...all before i was 5 yrs. i have had nightmares my whole life...she would call my real dad a bum..no good...she would get enraged at any mention of wanting to see him..call us selfish...lied about how she left him while he was in classes at Berkeley...he came home one day and we were gone...by the way my stepdad was a rival for my mom before she 'picked' my dad...my stepdad was even in the wedding party...when i was under 2 and my sister under 1 she left him (my sister and i are less than a year apart)..then she married my dads 'rival' and he proceeded to take the opportunity to torture us relentlessly, with much encouragement on her part. i have a half sister..he is her dad...she was never harmed....my mom continued to let her other husbands beat us...into high school at which time my sister ran away at 15...i quit school to try and move out...now she is 71 and EXPECTS me to take care of her malingering, hypochondrial a**.




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 KW

by KW
(USA)

i was like probably 8years old when it started happening. i remember riding in the car with my babysitter and her boyfriend and my two younger siblings and she had a small car so one of us would have to sit on his lap in the front seat and the times that it was me i can remember him whispering in my ear "do you feel that" about his hard on and i would try to pretend not to know what he was talking about.

also i remember being in a bathing suit and sitting in my parents room and my mom being in the kitchen and the tv being on and myself watching tv in my moms room for some odd reason he felt it was appropriate to be in the room with me, idk why but anyways so he closed the door behind him and pulled out his penis and i can remember only looking out of the corner of my eye and trying to just concentrate on the tv and i remember him saying something like "ok well you've seen mine now let me see yours" but i refused and that was pretty much the end of it he exited the room and i never said anything.

i also remember waking up one night and he had his hand in my underware and although i don't believe he penetrated me i can't be completly sure, i remember feeling uncomfortable and pushing his hand farther away from me and trying to move away as best as i could.

although i knew everything he was doing was wrong, for some odd reason i felt when i woke up to him doing all that that feeling like when you're a sick child and you wake up to a parent carressing your forehead or something weird idk i can't explain.

i've always been a really strong minded person and i'm sure it's affected me in ways i can't imagine but i still told no one until i started dating my current and only boyfriend of 8years , i told him..sort of for attention. ?? i guess? anyways i remember walking into my 3rd grade classroom the next day after the touching thing happened and looking around like that i knew noone else in the classroom had experienced what i experienced the night before... and i tried to shake it off like it was a dream that day and days following it...and i put it in the back of my mind like that i could make it go away or make it unreal that way, and it worked for a while..and istarted to care less about it all. i remember having a slight phobia of using the bathroom for a while, like i thought in my mind that a cartoon of his face would appear in the toilet, as strange as that sounds...idk what it means, but eventually i got over that too. the thing is i came close to telling once but then i backed out because i liked him and my babysitter and i didnt want to be the cause of problems for them.

ended up though they were both smoking crack and stealing money from my parents and so my mom ended up pressing charges against them both and i think they had to pay restitution im not sure, but i guess they did some jail time...which left me feeling releived even though i missed my babysitter.

turns out also that years later the boyfriend ended up catching rape charges and as twisted as it is that i could've prevented that so to speak i don't regret not telling because i think a trial and all of that would have caused more damage and trauma then my way of dealing with it all...and i do feel bad for the person/persons that he also molested/raped/whatever he caught the charges for, but just being 100% real about the situation, and maybe i'm a coward for saying so- but i'm relieved that he caught charges via another person and not myself?? if that makes any sense.




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 Hannah

by Hannah
(Location Undisclosed)

Sexual Abuse: 
I was molested at the age of 5 and or 6 by my mother's boyfriend. To this day I can smell him, feel him on me, hear his voice when I sleep at night, and feel him touching me. I am unable to do much with my life at this point and I am almost twenty years old. This trauma, along with many others in my life, has greatly effected my relationship with my boyfriend, my day to day life, school, and friendships. Being molested has caused me to be continually traumatized every moment of the day. I am in therapy but very seldom do I really like to talk about my molestation. It only happened once but that one time truly devastated me. My mother may or may not have called the police I do not know, but nothing was done about my molestation. No therapy, no counseling, no nothing. I went on with my life. I think my mom thought I was young and would forget... But I remember I remember!!!!!!! He took off my clothes one item at a time, slowly and gently as if he cared about my well being. I remember him saying, "This is fine. You are okay" I remember tears as he layed me on some bed. All the lights were so bright and I remember being cold and crying. He placed my hand on his penis as he touched me everywhere possible. The most vivid part I remember is when he wiped away my tears. He dressed me and patted my head and let me go.I didn't know how wrong it was and how terrible things could get. He touched me everywhere and made me touch him and I hate him for making my life now so unbearable. I remember really liking him, thinking he was nice, he played guitar for me. I can't stand to even talk about it. The only person I have told is my mother(who passed away when I was 15) my boyfriend, and a few friends. My family does not know and I cannot tell them. I am too afraid of what they will think of me. I hope one day I can tell them what happened to me but until then I will try to live my life to my best ability.




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Child Abuse Story From Uriah

by Uriah
(Location Undisclosed)

I am almost 30 years old and I am scared. Not from others finding out my secret. Not that I feel ashamed by what happened all those years ago. I am scared to let my emotions show. I have to be strong for everyone else. If I am weak, how can I protect my family? My oldest boy is the same age I was. He is so much like me. If this happens to him will he act the way I have? If he is like me, then no one will know there is a problem. Not until he is in his twenties, and doesn't understand why he has trouble sleeping at night. It will be a secret that only he holds on to. He will ignore it. And not understand that his anxiety and depression that he later feels would actually begin when he was young.

I was seven. My mother was a single mom, and had to work all day. She also wanted to have a social life. That meant that I had to be babysat by someone. There was a couple in our complex. She had occult and Egyptian trinkets all around. He had a wonderful model train, old movie props, and tons of comics. They were friendly, and offered to watch me. Usually He would watch me alone.

The more my mother would go out, the more he was in charge of me. He was nice. He would watch movies with me until I fell asleep next to him. An adult finally seemed to be there and care for me. And I would see him every day. I would go over to his house and we would play with his train set, or we would watch a horror movie.

I already had an idea about what sex was, because I heard my mom getting it on with men at least once a week. I was seven and pounding on the wall telling my mom to keep it down. I had started asking about it a few years before. She--not really up to the whole talking about sex thing--decided to get out a book to help me visualize what it was about. The Joys of Sex is not a book that was designed to be used as a learning aid to a five year old. Since I had one stable male adult in my life I could trust, I also accepted input from him.

His input was that it was a part of nature and it was a way for people to bond. My mother said similar stuff when I asked her, so I knew he wasn't lying to me. He then started telling me that all Humans are naturally bi-sexual. I didn't know what that meant. He told me that it was normal for boys and girls of all ages to have sexual relations with each other. Boys with Boys, boys with girls, girls with girls, girls with women, women with women, women with boys, women with men, men with girls, and men with boys. I was unsure if that was the case. He said he could show me. He had me take off my shirt and lay down on my stomach. He then gave me a tender intimate back rub. It felt good, so I knew he was telling the truth.

Intimate touching like that became part of the nightly routine when he was watching me. Soon later it went to fondling each other. All the time, I thought it was normal. Until I was told differently from PSAs at school and on TV. I thought "this doesn't apply to me, because I like it. Those kids didn't like it and that was why it was wrong for them".

I later came to the realization over the years, that what we did was not right. He had used my ignorance to his gratification. And the worst part was that I liked it. At least then I did. I am disgusted with what he did to me when I was so vulnerable. I am just now seeing how this affected me. Now I am suspicious of everyone that is nice to my children. And I am afraid that if my kids are like me, I will never know until they are adults.




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Child Abuse Story From Avril

by Avril
(Wales, United Kingdom)

I awoken from my sleep on a cold winters day
thought where is the sunshine, i thought it was may
but when i looked at my side i noticed something more
something shiny and beutiful, lying by my door
my dead mothers bracelet that she'd gave me long before
my mother was a angel, a butterfly to my heart
a shoulder to cry on, a shadow from the start
not only did she love me and i loved her as well
she also told me that if angels cried she'd be the one
to tell, but a summers day so long ago when i was only
small, she noticed a young man muscly and tall
a few months later i had a new dad
but mother failed to notice, he treated me bad
i can only faintly remmember the shining summers day
that due to my so called dad my mother passed away
he threw me to the celing and called me nasty names
but he didnt understand i wasnt playing games
he picked me up and shook me hard until i felt oh so sick but he carried on and didnt give a tick
for the next few days i wondered what he would do next
as i lay on my bed as he checked my every text
as i grew older i realised my strife
this wasnt normal,this was my life
so the very next day i ran to him
and said daddy what have i done, i regreted my words
as soon as they were said and all i could see was a bright red head, a few months later sirens called
lights flashed,daddy falled
later i noticed my daddy was dead
now every night i think of my life
cut my wrists with a razor sharp knife i cant help but
know, thats what daddy wanted for me to go
when i dream of mummy a tear falls and i cry
and thats why im Avril the apple of mummys eye :(

thanks for reading
thats my life :(




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Child Abuse Story From Pamela S

by Pamela S
(North Carolina, USA)

I was abused from the time i was twelve until the time i was fifteen, not only was he my track coach, my mothers friend, but also a police officer. i wanted to reach out and tell someone but he would continue to tell me that no one would listen, no one would care, and no one would believe me because i was a child. i kept running away from home to get attention but when i would be found i would freeze up and not tell on him. One day i couldn't take the pain anymore and i had made up in my mind that i just wanted to end my life and leave my mother a note telling her the reasons why i didnt want to live anymore, so i did that, and explain the things that he did to me and i didnt know whether or not that he was the father of my child because i got pregnant at fourteen yrs old. so on the way out the door i left the note on the kitchen counter so that my mom would find it because i was afraid to talk to my mom, it seemed like she never had time for me because she was a single hard working mother and she didnt have time to see what was going on in my life. so by the time i was on my way down the road to my get away hide out my mother called me and asked me to come home because she believed me and that took so much weigh off of my chest. i was able to give her the details of what this man had done to me detail by detail. so we went to the police and things went to trial from there and he ended being sent to prison for twelve yrs.




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Child Abuse Story From Angie L

by Angie L
(New Hampshire, USA)

I have been abused emotionally, physically, and sexually. I have wrote my story and sent it in to other people so people know what I have gone through. I am now nineteen and I have been abuse for 17 years of my life. I have had three great years of my life. When I was three years old my dad started to hit me and my sisters and brothers. My dad was an alcoholic and a drug addict. My mom was never home she had three jobs. My siblings and I were use to being beating getting the belt until we bleed. We were use to it but the only thing we weren't use to is taking showers with daddy. My dad would touch me and I thought it was okay because he never hurt me. That's what daddy's do, play with there princesses. My dad only touched me a few times. Mom got a new job in Massachusetts as a bar tender. My mom didn't trust me to stay home with my brothers and sisters, I caused too much trouble. I stayed at my uncle's house every night. I was about nine when I started to sleep over. My uncle loved me the same way my daddy did. My uncle would not only touch me he would put things in me such as remotes, beer bottles, and wooden spoons. My older brother A and I both sleep over my uncles. My brother was sixteen and I was ten, my uncle came into my room and he got on top of me and grabbed my face and told me if I screamed he would hurt me. My uncle took off my cloths and held my legs open with his knees and hurt me inside and every time I cried he would push harder and harder. My brother walked in because he heard me crying, and my uncle beat me so bad I had to go to the hospital. When I woke up my brother was sitting next to me, he had a broken nose and he was missing a tooth. You know what my mom said; I should have had my clothes on and she called me a slut. After my uncle raped and beat me, for four years after that we moved to New Hampshire. After my thirteenth birthday my step dad dad raped me and I started to turn to drugs and alcohol. After that I become anorexia and bulimic, I was getting into trouble with the law and then I meet N. I so desperately wanting for someone to love and I thought I loved N. One night I was over N's house and he raped me. I am now nineteen and I have been sexually abuse bye 6 people and most of them were my family member's people, who I loved and trusted. I am seeing a psychotherapist because I have night terrors and depressed. I still wet the bed and I go to the sleep with the light on. I don't date anymore because I still suck my thumb. I am still going through a horrible time right now and getting more help from a therapist then from my own mom. I have been in the emergency room over eight times for urinary track infection and head fractures and broken ribs. Every one thought I was lying until I got pregnant at age 15. I am nineteen and I am okay now.




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Child Abuse Story From Amanda H

by Amanda
(USA)

Ive been searching all my life for someone who has had the same experiences that I had growing up. I have never even come close. I thought that maybe if I could talk to someone (like me) that I would be able to let go and recover. Personally I don't think that is always possible. Im not good at 'telling a story' in the typical way so heres what happened pretty much everyday. My dad beat me and my mother so badly that all to often I thought I was going to bleed to death. He would always destroy everything in the house when he got in one of his fits. Every time we had a pet(s) which was all the time, he would kill it. Not just put it down but horribly kill it. He would throw them against the way until they died. Sometimes it took a few throws. I was then forced to pick up the animals and sometimes pieces and dispose of them. He gutted our dog in the bathtub all the while saying that he was pretending it was me. He would cut the heads off and lay them inside the door in a row for me to see when I came home from school. Sometimes he would hide a dead one somewhere in my room and I would have to find it. In addition to the severe physical and psychological abuse he brought down on me, he also was a child molester. I was taken away from them and my dad served 12 days in jail. From then till now (age 28) I have been a drifter so damaged from all of this. I have been on all sorts of medication and therapy for 19 years now and Im just getting worse (depression, bi polar, ptsd, severe social anxiety and borderline personality disorder). If anyone reads this and has experienced or knows someone who has please leave me a comment. I need to know what my survival chance is. Thank you for letting me share~amanda




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 Hannah R

by Hannah R
(Location Undisclosed)

every day since i was 2 or 3 my mother would scream at me, drag me across the floor and make me sit in a chair for hours. when i got up off the chair my butt was sore from how long i sat there. sometimes it was almost cut.

when i was in that chair she would scream at me calling me names, telling me i was a bad girl and that i needed to apologize. she never told me what i had done normally it was just because i had spilled some orange juice.

as i got older maybe 4 to 7 she would chase me around the room pull down my pants and underwear and hit me until my butt and sometimes back was red. i hated when she pulled off my clothing, she degraded me and it still bothers me.

all of this would happen almost every night before my father came home. she would chase me around the house with a riding crop or belt and try to hit me with it.

the time outs began to stop and i was 8. she would lock me in my room with no supper because i was bad. she always called me a bad girl. she would also punch me in the head.

she slapped me. she once cut my face with her nail and told me not to tell anyone. she always slaps me. from 6 to 12 she would grab my arms and squeeze me tightly and cut into me with her nails, then she would throw me on the ground and sometimes hit or kick me or pull me back up just to shake me and throw me down again.

my father would try to stand up to her but she would only hit him also. she would wash my mouth out with soap. now she gets angry over everything and i never do anything. she takes everything away permanently if i don't act like a perfect girl. she calls me a bitch and tells me i abuse her and i am nasty.

from as early as i remember she called me a liar, accused me of stealing and publicly embarrasses me.

once she told everyone in a store that i had a crush on my father. i was crying and she told me to stop and laughed at me.

im 14 now and she still slaps me and calls me worthless and forces me to hug and kiss her when i don't want to. she constantly makes me feel bad and has guilted me since i was 5. she used to say it was my fault she and my dad didn't get along.

she used to come in at night and ask me if i washed my face i would say i had and she would tell me never to lie, drag me out of bed and put a boiling wash clothe to my face and tear my skin. i used to cry because it hurt so much.

there is so much more that she has done. iv'e learned to accept her sudden out bursts of rage and i forgive her but i am wondering if this is considered abuse. thank you.




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Child Abuse Story From Zach

by Zach
(Location Undisclosed)

Never knew my real father, mum never really spoke of him. My first step father when mum married never liked me. I would often get beaten for just saying something stupid and he like to touch me and if i did not touch him i got beaten. I was 13 when i told mum and she kicked him out. I did not tell mum everything until i was 14. Mum met some one he was okay and they got married. Things were fine until i did something i should not have done and i admit i was wrong. My 2nd stepfather was all set to deliver my punishment when i pulled down my trousers and bent over. Asking me what the hell i thought i was doing. He then starting crying when i told him. He gave me the biggest hug in the world as i poured my heart out. I am crying now just thinking about that moment. That moment when i finally knew freedom and my stepfather is great.




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 Ruthie

by Ruthie
(Location Undisclosed)

My mom encouraged me to go visit Grandma & Grandpa just down the road. Little did she know that my Uncle, who had a room at the back of the kitchen could not be trusted. I was just an innocent little child, I think no more than three or four years old.

I was so curious about what he had in his closet. That curiosity got me into his room and I remember he put me on his knee and fondled me. I was very shy and didn't even know what was happening but it made me feel terrible and I wanted it to stop.

I don't remember how many times it happened, I think at least two times. I also remember that he had a small jar of coins that he gave me and told me not to say anything to my parents cause they would be angry.

I never said anything to my Mom until I was an adult. Later on in my life as I came into my teens and high school I became an introverted person who could not relate to my peers. I had a terrible time communicating with my Dad and other men. I hated myself for being locked in and not being able to express myself.

It was not until I learned about self-acceptance and that God made me who I was and loved me for who I was. Through Jesus I was cleansed and set free! Now I am free to be the woman that God made me to be, happy and confident and liking myself. "The Lord is my light and my salvation. The Lord is the light of my life, whom shall I 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.

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Child Abuse Story From Bruce W

by Bruce W
(Richmond, Virginia, USA)

The Quiet One: 
Everyone celebrates the quiet kids. You know the ones who are in the corner, not speaking very much, and when they do it is usually what you want to hear. That was me. In school I was the quiet kid. I rarely spoke, and when I did it was sometimes a chore to utter a whisper. I grew up that way, not by choice, but by necessity.

Growing up in a violent house is a harsh life. Growing up around alcohol, violence, and abuse is a hell I would not wish on anyone, but this is life. Both of my parents drank. My mother would drink and taunt my father, who would eventually have enough of the verbal abuse, and respond with his own abuse. Dad's response was found in police reports, frequent visits by an ambulance and through neighbors who avoided having anything to do with us.

Don't get me wrong, my parents never physically abused me, but the emotional scars are there on all of us who grew up hearing my mother slur her words to form "son of a bitch.... living in a God Damned Dream World!" and my father respond "Alright God Damn it! That’s Enough!" That meant my sisters would hide me, by oldest brother J would take the brunt of the attack for my mother and lure Dad away from Mom, and My other brother would run for the police. God how we prayed for the police. I have to admit here, cops are my heroes! Hearing that authoritative knock at the door meant peace at last.

Physical abuse came from my brother who would throw me across the room. I would land on the couch, and before I had a chance to get up, he would straddle me with my hands pinned. His idea of fun was to slap me in the face until I cried. He would taunt me saying "common little faggot! Cry for me". His idea of fun and trying to "toughen me up" left me clusterphobic, and constantly vigilant of the next attack. Even now, I react to sudden movements around me, always ready to defend myself.

My sister, the sister who was next in line to me never settled with being displaced from being the youngest child. I would gladly have given her the spot, I only wanted to be a kid. I am told she used to steal my bottles, and was generally mean to me. I do remember beatings, and mental abuse. I remember on more than one occasion being told as my mother left for work, how I was hers now! Those words I dreaded because that meant my chores and hers too. Not atypical for a brother and sister, but the punishment for non compliance would range from being lock out of the house without dinner to an all out beating.

I remember when my grandfather passed away being driven to Tennessee to the funeral. I was a small child, no more than 7. My sister and I were laughing in the back seat about getting car sick. we began a run on all of the various terms for puke. You know, Puke, vomit, technicolor yawn, Ralph...I had no idea there were so many names. I started to laugh at the possibility of how many people in the world dreaded the name Ralph. Suddenly my sister turned to me with hate in her eyes and said "Grandpa’s name was Ralph! You're so thoughtless, and mean! You should be ashamed of yourself!" I sat in the car for the remainder of the trip facing the other window. I wept as I looked out at the peaceful landscape wondering why God had made such a horrible person as I. I never made a sound. That was the first time I wanted to truly die.

I never knew peace in that house until my sister ran away. She decided to run with a friend to Daytona Beach, Florida. As my parents spoke to the police, putting on the facade of a happy family with a troubled teen, I have to admit my only thought was "Thank God." As I lay asleep that night, for the first time I felt like I may actually survive. My oldest brother had long since left, and now I was the only child in the house. Slowly, I began to come out, and join my parents. When my mother drank, I became her counselor. I sat and listened to the toll the years of alcohol and abuse had taken on her. It was better that I take the brunt of her hurt and pain, than hear her verbal jabs at my father until he beat her again.

My home pretty much went on that way until my sister was found a few months later. As she came back in and gave me a big hug as if she actually missed me, I remember a shudder going through my entire body. After that, I simply shut down. I withdrew to my room, to be invisible again. I learned it was the best way to survive. The less attention I attracted, the less chance I would have of being beaten, or emotionally destroyed.

A few years later, when my sister turned 18, she married and left the house. I didn't thank God that time. I knew she would be back. Her husband was a good kid, but he was just that, a kid, and I knew how abusive my sister was. She returned a year later, pregnant and angry. She returned repeatedly, until my mother grew tired and told her she had to make her own life.

There are many more examples of abuse I would point out, but the result was the same. I am a man who grew up in a household that for me, resembled a concentration camp. I was subjected to nightly abuse, at the hands of sadistic "guards". The ones who would protect me, were obscured by a haze of alcohol and abuse. I was left to feel unloved, unwanted, and ashamed to be on this earth. I don't know how I survived, but I do know the effects. I am a quiet man who is constantly aware, and afraid. I live my life wondering why I survived, and how I can live my life in peace.

I long for someone to love me. I guess in some ways I am looking for the emotional equivalent of the allied soldier to come and open the gate. I have loved a few women in my life, and had two beautiful children who I adore with all my heart. My own pain, however has caused it's own damage. I have trouble trusting, and am constantly suspicious. I tend to be clingy. When my last relationship failed, I decided to take time to fix myself.

Looking back, I see that my last love in many ways was that guard. In her sweetness, and understanding gentle way, she came into my life, when like those survivors in the death camps I had given up. She opened the door, and let the sun shine on my face for the first time in many years.

When she left to deal with her own pain, the gates were suddenly closed again, and I again was that child. seven years old, weeping in silence and looking out the window of the car...through the wire of that camp longing in my silence for a life of peace, love, and warmth.




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 Kiki

by Kiki (just a nickname)
(Location Undisclosed)

Ive read a couple of stories and felt that I should share mine. Im crying as i write this actually. It a very sensitive thing.
So it started as early as I was 3 years old. My uncle who was 5 years older than myself, who was 8 at the time use to preform oral sex on me. I didn't know what it was, I thought it was a game that kids played,and I liked it and thought it was fun( yes very sad). So we kept on playing these "games". Games that involved sex (Things like house, stupid games that he made up). He also showed me porn, and recorded me too.
Around the age of 6-7 the abuse started to get more involved, and at around 8, making him 13 at the time; he said that we should stop n stuff. So he joined this "club" notice the quotes. Where we had to do these "rituals" where he would preform oral sex on me, and then penetrate me. This continued until he was about 15-17. During these "rituals" I knew i was wrong but was manipulated and was told that the "rituals" were going to help us to stop and to erase our memories. Which now, as a 13 year old makes no damn sense at all.I feel so stupid, to know that I believed him. He was just someone that I looked up to. We've been caught a few times, but he continued, and finally when he was 17,we were on vacation and were caught again, by his mother, my step-grandmother. She spoke to me, but I didn't give her the WHOLE story, I just sat there and listened to her lecture.
Now looking back at it, I really hurt, knowing that that happened to me by someone that I loved. Children are very gullible and basically believe ANYTHING and EVERYTHING, that an adult, or elder says.I have recently evaluated the situation and have come to terms that i was sexually abused. Sometimes,I may just cry myself to sleep, wanting to tell a family member, my aunt or mom, who I am close to; but just don't know how to approach them with the situation. Today, I still speak to my uncle , we have a good relationship, and act as though nothing happened,but I wonder if he feels guilty, or even thinks of himself as the abuser.On Oprah there had been a sexual abuse series, and she said that its never the victims fault; although I feel as though it was because I felt that I knew better, but wanted to believe my uncle, because ,I as I have said, I looked up to him.I'm really confused and I begin to ask myself questions Was I a victim? Was it my fault? How do I tell my aunt or mom? and the number one is if I am still considered a virgin. Are people who were sexually abused as children considered to be virgins?
Thank you for reading my story, and I am glad that there is a site where I can let out my feelings anonymously, and share with others who are going through or went through the same situation.
Kiki




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 MHH

by MHH
(New Zealand)

37 YRS OF AGE & STILL HAVE HAUNTING MEMORIES: 
Im a 37yr old woman still with haunting memories,at the age of 12yrs my uncle sexually abused me until i was 14,i began to rebbel & started skipping school, drinking, sniffing petrol, saw the school councilor & told her what was happening in my home,she told my parents and they said i made it up,this is where i really screwed up my life,my parents put me in to child youth & family care where i became state of ward at the age of 15yrs,they sent me to an institution for troubled teenagers,in the institution there was a 49yr old male carer who at the time i found comforting 2 be around & trusting,but 1 night & a few nights after he was sexually abusing me and another girl who i new,i told the head of the institution,we had a meeting with the 49yr old and he did not deny it,now this is where it becomes interesting,this institution sent me away to another institution,they did not notify my social worker & the carer was fired so i thought,about five months after, i was a run away & was sent back to the place where the abuse happened & who was still there but the same man who was supposed to had been fired! i was only allowed in that institution for one night as i felt they could not wait to get rid of me. As i got older i tryed to reach out for someone to talk with high up but felt they were ignorant because i was abused in a government place,i do feel alone at times & i still have these memories all the time,it makes me mad and at times i feel like im not worthy. I do believe this has effected me as i became very violent towards anyone,i became an alcoholic,joined gangs,had sex with anybody.Now i am in a great relationship wtih a beautiful loving caring man with wonderful children and always look at the postivness of life but can never get rid of those sickning memories!




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 Annie6

by Annie
(California, USA)

The final stages: 
Why did I have those horrible nightmares from the early age of 5?
Why did I always feel so vulnerable and exposed?
In a family of 5 kids; 3 boys, and 2 girls, why did I feel like I was the adopted child, and so different from the others?
Why are they tormenting me?
Am I normal?
Can I fast-forward and be gone from here?
Am I as smart as they are?
Why am I so afraid all the time?
Am I going to die?
Why does mom have to work at night?
I want my mom and dad to love me more, so therefore I will do this and that.
I want to be different than them!
Why do they call me PIG all the time?
Is someone going to hit me today or throw me to the ground?
I just don't feel like I belong here.
Dad's always practicing his instruments. God I can't stand it! His incessant scales.
I have panic in me all the time, just waiting to erupt.
My chest hurts and I can't breathe.
Why do people like me so much at school, and no one likes me at home?
Why is my mom so restrictive and controlling?
Does anybody want to hear me?
I don't like to be alone. I am afraid to be ALONE.
Age 5-15




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 Elex For My Beloved

by Elex
(British Columbia, Canada)

My beloved is an adult survivor. I have seen therapist for myself and to be able to be a help, not add further misery to her life. She is the most beautiful, courageous person I have ever met, I tell her so every day. She is also the sweetest, and it is hard to comprehend her past or how anyone could have harmed her.

She is at a place where talking about the past a lot is very helpful, and she seems to find it healing when I ask questions, which I do, because I want to understand what happened to her.

And I realise I can only empathise, I will never truly understand. In fact, what she went through was well beyond neglect and abuse. She was tortured. Abuse is simply not a strong enough term.

While she works hard on her healing, I worry about doing or saying something to trigger her. She is so anxious about having a flashback or losing it, because that is so painful for her. I never lie to her and I am my genuine self and honest, but I do hide my own pain when it hits me, for now, because what she doesn't need is the burden of hers AND mine.

Maybe I am slower grieving her past! She is beyond a lot of that...but our relationship is young, so it is all new to me. She does seem VERY patient and understanding of my feelings about her past hell, and since we go forward in healing, she is letting me go through my grief and anger with it just hearing about it.

So there are days I ache for her, and feel helpless I cannot comfort her. It is hard for her to be touched, so I try to remind myself that I get to touch her everyday - with kind words and encouragement, even though I really just want to hold her or hug her. We have a lot of animals, and we both are very warm, tactile people, so it is foreign to me to be able to show so much affection to our animals but not physically to her. My head understands but my heart has to work hard to stay focused that emotional contact is more important to her.

And there is residual anger and grieving...I cannot understand, for example...she was neglected from birth, (neither parent was a substance abuser, but both had some strange forms of 'discipline' as kids themselves) her mother resented her, would not hold her or change her diapers (someone else would get around to it after work) and began holding her down so her father could sexually abuse her with inserting objects and beat her. This would continue for 17 years.

They locked her up, sometimes with her siblings too, in rooms in attic and her younger sister would sneak her food. They told her every day how stupid she was, no one would love her and she was nothing. (She has very high IQ and several college degrees!)

How incredibly amazing is it that today, she can FEEL love from some of us in her life, that she trusts it and likes it! That is some serious strength and courage, to move beyond THAT past and be able to be loved when all you have known is worthlessness and detachment!

The mother's abuse entailed holding her down, demanding she look –stare continuously- into her eyes, while the father sexually assaulted, and the mother would laugh and laugh and laugh. They collaborated against her, their own precious, beautiful child, and thought it was great fun.

She has the same beautiful, stunning blue eyes of her mother, but she cannot look anyone in the eye (she is working on that) because she had to pretend her mother's eyes were NOT eyes at all, in order to survive it, and so eye contact itself is a VERY painful trigger.

Do others know how painful that is, to want to look into your beloved's eyes, and know you may be bringing them pain? She works SO hard on that, and I see great love and compassion toward me when she looks at me, and those moments I treasure, because she feels more safe making eye contact with me! I feel honored and privileged, actually, I know she does not owe me or anyone else ANYthing, but she wants badly to be okay in the world and have fun, and people will expect eye contact.

She still avoids social group settings, and to this day (we are in our 40's) she can sleep in bed only 5 minutes at a time, then has to go downstairs and sleep on the sofa with the TV on.

Anyway, her grandparents suspected the neglect and sexual abuse and reported it, but nothing would ever happen. This just mystifies me and makes me wonder what is WRONG with our entire society! And no one DID believe her when she tried to tell others, they told her she was crazy or to quit making bad things up. (We found out that EVERYONE else was afraid of her parents too...maybe they were threatened or something, so no one could really rescue the 5 children out of that home, and the law would not do it.)

And she came to believe she WAS crazy, as she was in and out of every psychiatric and mental health hospital in the region, mostly due to the suicide attempts.

I feel a HUGE gratitude that she survived...she had every reason to end it...and we all would have missed having a person the world is a MUCH better place with her in it, but I also understand her desire to escape the hell. How she, or any other abuse survivor, has come out of this without completely hating the world, is a testament to how brave and strong these folks are...and how unfair they are the ones often feel the MOST weak and powerless!

The grandparents tried to get the parents to let them foster her. Finally at age 5, she was put in a foster home, but then returned within 6 months because the parents agreed to let her get therapy. (Grandmother on other side was a psychiatrist, but rest of family did not believe in therapy, and only agreed to take her for a while to get her back in the home.)

The parents threatened to further torture her beyond that daily norm if she ever showed any of her wounds or told, or they would abuse her siblings or pets. One of her siblings also began beating on her now and then, to get on the parents' good side and avoid abuse herself.

In third grade, was the one year her parents told her they were proud of her, because not one person inquired about possible abuse. That is the only time she can remember them saying something nice to her.

She went to 2 more foster homes, both after her father told her would try to kill her, but no crime had been committed that the law could see, so she was returned.

She began attempting suicide, 6 times, and was cutting and other self harm.

At 17, her father stabbed her in the chest attempting to kill her and he was finally arrested and she was put into permanent foster care.

Her first foster family though, blamed her when their younger daughter, who became fond of her, refused to eat whenever she was gone for a few days for a camp or whatever, so they told her she would have to find another home. WHO allows a foster family to treat a foster child like that?!!!!

What is wrong with a system that places and already abused child in a home where THOSE adults also will tell the child they are to blame and a problem?

Where is the love and nurturing? If the family has a problem, aren't they supposed to address with it child services, NOT the child? Hello!!!!

I DON'T GET IT! Just more pain and more grief, and no adults that can be trusted, even IN the 'child protection' system!

Then her final foster parents had her tested, the therapist recommended she apply for college, and she began her real therapy to heal all through college and on going to present.

I guess I just needed to write. It helps ease the aching, and helps me stay focused on where we are going, as it is a special journey, and I hope I can be there for her any way she needs, for as long as we live, and that I won't burden her. The first half of her life was stolen from her...and it is lovely to see that day by day, the second half of her life she is finding some happiness and peace...Thank you 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 Marie

by Marie
(Mississippi, USA)

I know this story is not as bad as any of the others on this site, but I came upon this site and felt like sharing a bit of my experience. My biological mother has well known mental issues and she left my father and I when I was a baby. I saw her a few times when I was younger, but the last time was when I was 9 (i'm 19 now.) So I lived with my father and grandmother. My grandmother is my world and I love her very much. I used to love my father and we did have some good memories together but somehow, I find that I still have nightmares of the physical and emotional abuse I endured from him over the years. Once, I remember him yelling at me for talking to someone that came to visit, and he grabbed my arms and squeezed and he was yelling at me telling me to stop crying and then he hit me so hard I thought my tooth had broke. My tooth did not break but my top lip did swell up and bleed for awhile. My grandma came out and said to stop crying or the neighbors would call the police. Another time he told me that getting my mother pregnant was a mistake and that I would also never be good or competent enough to keep a job. Other times he pulled my hair and pushed my down a staircase. Other times when he would get really mad were when he and my grandmother would get into a fight and I just couldn't stand seeing him spit on the only person who had ever put forth any effort into raising me. He would call her a lazy fat b***h, among other worse names and often these fights would happen while we were all in the car. I remember them fighting and, just to get back at him, she said that I was a horrible child and meant nothing to her. He broke the visors and cracked the dashboard and then took all of his cds and smashed them and the cases and threw the broken pieces at both of us. When we got home he threw all the pieces on the dining room floor so that we would have to walk on them. As a young child, I remember him looking at me and threatening to kill himself or wishing he would have an early heart attack. He used to call me retarded, telling me that there was something wrong with me mentally and so finally I just stopped wanting to have anything to do with him and now he and his wife of one year tell me its all my fault that things are the way they are. I know this is not much of an ending to the story, but I have to stop typing now because it is getting late. Thank you for letting me share this story!




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Child Abuse Story From Gabby

by Gabby
(Melbourne, Florida)

I was about 6 or 7 when it all started. I had 2 older sisters and 2 older brothers. One of the brothers was a half brother from my fathers side who he had with another lady before I was born. My mom allowed my father to bring his son to live with us since his mother was a no good drunk. One day all of a sudden he started trying to touch me and when us kids are small we tend to explore and to me it was a new thing that came with guilt. It's funny how God gives us a consciense when we are so innocent as a child that let's us know what's wrong or right. We were always touching each other and then one of my girl cousins would do oral sex on me and I never really liked that stuff but they seeemed so eager to do it that I thought it was part of growing up. Later on around the age of 9, I was started to get disgusted with the whole idea of having to please my brother since he told me mom or dad would find out if I didn't do it. He said he would tell them it was all my idea and I would get punished. Well, I think it all hit the fan one day when he said to me I'll do your chores if you do it with me. I looked at him straight in the eye and said I'm going to tell mom what you just said to me and they will believe me over you this time. So with all the courage I had I told my mom and she believed me and told my father who really got down on my brother about the abuse. My mom accused me of liking it since I didn't say anything before...but I didn't. My brother and I later in our teens spoke about it and no hard feelings. We were in church and we knew God had forgave it all. It's funny because after that the girl cousin that gave me oral sex before came back in my life by the age of 18 and by then we both talked about what happened and we said sorry to each other for the damage that was done in the past. Turns out she was abused/raped by her brother and my grandma knew about it and would tell her mom but her mom was too busy getting drunk to monitor what her kids were doing. This poor girl was also manipulated by one of my aunts who lived with them into giving her oral sex and my aunt was like in her early 30's when we were young. Hence, the reason why she did what she did with me. She explored being a lesbian with some of her friends and that all came from the previous abuse. She wasn't born a lesbian and she realized this when she accepted Jesus into her life. Her brother since their childhood exploring hardly talked and treated each other bad every time they saw each other. I encouraged her to talk to her brother and forgive each other for what happened in the past. Immediately after talking they were both crying and their brother/sister relationship was reinstitued. People may say they can get past it and they don't because in the end you have to forgive the person who did this to you in order to let go of all the pain and hurt. Now, I have a husband and 2 beautiful boys and although I'm always on the lookout when my kids are around other people I can't always be around them and I only ask God to protect them and make them aware that if someone tries to cross that line then it needs to be addressed. I'm a very motivated and strong willed woman and I think my attitude has allowed me to really get past all of this to become a stronger person and encourage others to move forward. My self-image was hurt badly, I felt I wasn't worth anything and that my future as a normal person was over. This wasn't true and when I accepted Jesus into my heart all of my dirtyness, guilt and shame was cleansed in his blood and I can say today I am free from the shackles the devil had on me with the sexual molestors from my past. Sometimes only God can fill that space that you consider the worst in you and when he fills it he will allow that area to flower and prosper and use it for his purpose so you can help others. Women and men out there...there is a way out. Seek God! He is good.




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 Frank

by Frank
(Illinois, USA)

once upon a time i walked home from school when i walked in the house my dad was sitting on the couch he was mad that i didnt do my chores and he was yelling and screaming at me and he just punched me in the face and made my nose bleed and he had continued to hit me in the face. i had a blackeye too. my mum seen me she called and told them about what my dad had did to me. he went to jail for 5 years. I AM STILL SCARED.




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 Emma

by Emma
(Indiana, USA)

I dont really know where start. i guess from when i was born, i was born in 1989. i never saw my father. when my mother had me she had lost 3 of her children because she abandoned them. my brothers were 7 and my sister was 2.
later my mother got her children back after telling the welfare system she didnt want them until thier father stepped in and said that he wanted them.
my sister told me once when she got visitation and my sister saw me that my hair was so digusting that they had to shave my head because she didnt bathe me.
My mother was a drug addict and an alcoholic.
My first memories were living in New Hampshire where my mother met my step dad. they got married and moved to Arizona where we lived when i was about 3 or 4.
me, my brother who was now 10 and my sister who was 12 lived with us.
My step dad was a coke and heroin dealer.
my mother worked at a nursing home as a cna from 3-11 so we didnt see her much. she was beat and raped alot too. sadly we witnessed alot of it. he had some kind of hand gun he used to threaten us with.
he used to take me and my brother in his room and make us preform sexual acts on us. he never took my virginity because he said even with that left i would never be able to be loved.
He and i believe my mother had to know of it but we were sold out to his drug dealer friends.
i remember my brother was once sold for 400$.
He would also take me to his room for hours at a time and ask me over and over if my mother was cheating on him.
my mother was my whole world so i always told him no and for all that i knew she hadnt. he would hold spoons over candles and burn my legs, he cut me with knives, he took lit ciggarettes and burned my gentalia. alot of these scars i still have. he used to make us do pointless chores that he would beat us while we were doing. when we got blames for things my brother would usually just take the blame. one time he got beat so bad that he we in bed for 3 days and we werent aloud to speak to him. i would go in at night and sneak him water.
my sister nothing or little of the sexual abuse that went on. i know she knew of the beating because it was her job to dress me and she would put long sleves on me so the teachers at school wouldnt ask questions. she said they would take us to a bad place and to never tell anyone.
one time i came home from school and wanted a whole peanut butter and jelly sandwich and my brother made it for me and i couldnt finish it so my step dad said fine youll finish it when it dinner time so i put it in the fridge but i knew there was going to be more to it than just that. when i got to the table there was the sandwich i haddent finished and 5 more. i was not aloud to leave the table until i finished them i finished them but i threw up. i got in trouble for washing my hair out which was extremely long and he grabbed me by my hair and knocked one of my teeth out on the bed. my sister called my mom who came home and got the crap beat out of her for having something to say about it.
we watched him rape her and beat her with a belt on many occasions.
my sister finally called our older brother who was like 25 at the time and he moved to arizona from virginia and when he got there my step dad had the gun so he made him give it to him, he sent us to our room and took it apart, beat my step dad and made him leave. later him and my mother got together but by then he was drinking on top of his medication so he was never really abusive again. i dont think when they got back together that they stopped the drugs and they continued to drink but later they split up and i lived with my mother when i was about 11. she would get drunk and have nobody else to fight with and she would beat on me. i was big enough to hit her back but i dont believe anyone should hit thier mother so i never did and i knew that if she was sober she probably wouldnt do those things. she broke my arm when she threw me into a car, i was trying to get back out and she shut the door on it. after that i kind of just lived by myself wherever i could. later my mom got with her current boyfriend, he was addicted to meth and he would freak out sometimes but he never really got violent. he went to prison now and is sober. i grew up, i lost my virginity to a boy at 13 he was 14. we ended up having 3 children, 2 of them were twins and they died because i was only 14 and i couldnt carry them. i got married at 16 when my other son was 9 months old. although i havent always made the best choices in life i had my son, my husband became addicted to drugs and i left him and them going through a few relationships i became pregnant with my daughter who turned one on august 27th 2010. i am now also currently pregnant with my boyfriends baby. i have known him since 8th grade. i would like to say that despite all the things that have happened to me, i have turned out to be a decent person. i dont beat my kids. to ensure that i never got to the point of beating my kids i just dont hit them as a punishment. i never saw what good it did anyways. my children have grown up to be happy healthy children. someday i will tell them parts of my story. i have found that i can be loved. i have confronted my mother and step dad about these things and they have denied them both but it doesnt matter. i became what they never expected me to be and i believe as long as people are strong and have something to believe in even if its themselves they can overcome the things that have happened to 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 Scott2

by Scott2
(Canada)

I was sexually abused by the male babysitter hired to watch me beginning when I was 3 until I was 7. He penetrated my anus with his fingers and encouraged me to do the same to him. He performed oral sex on me and wanted me to lick him ... he would have me hold my legs tight together so that he could finish. He made me do many of these things to my younger brother while he watched.

In the beginning he told me it was a special game just for me and him and later threatened me with parental punishment and the death of my dog. This was very scary because my father beat me often and would whip me with his belt leaving welts and bruises so that I could not sit. My father encouraged my mother to do this also as discipline which she reluctantly did.

Talking during meals led to beatings and forced fasting. Talking to others led to the same. Achieving poorly in school led to the same. My father ignored me most of the time but beat me if he didn't think I was reflecting well of him. My mother offered what kindness I saw in life but she was unstable and was as likely to hurt me emotionally as she was to help me. Later in life my brother attempted suicide and was beaten on arriving home because his actions embarrassed my father.

Today I am 38 and have not been able to keep a job or stay married because of nightmares, flash backs, panic attacks, and lost time (due to dissociation). I have been diagnosed with Depression, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Dissociative Identity Disorder).

I have been in treatment for many years but I am presently unemployable as my symptoms have gotten worse through the years. Part of this is because it has been hard to get treatment ... therapy seems threatening and scary to some of my inside parts and they have bolted a few times which leaves me literally on the other side of the country with no idea how I got there and no idea how to get back or even where to sleep that night.

Of equal difficulty is the perception of many that I am just lazy; many believe that I could just choose to be better and that I could have a great life if I would just try harder. Or they blame me for all the jobs I have been fired from. Or they assume I am not very intelligent. They don't understand and often perceive any explanation of my circumstances as an excuse. They have not seen a life time of failed attempts to live normally or acknowledge the heroic efforts it takes just to keep breathing some days.




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 Jay G

by Jay G
(NSW Australia)

When I was 7 I went around to my best friends house to stay the night but this night was different, her brother was home. Her mum was a cop and he was 18. He asked me to come in his room and my best friend A. told me not to because it was a trap. I didn't believe her and i went in there. He was under a sheet and told me to climb under. i did and crossed my legs. He jumped on me and started kissing he shoved his hand in me and pulled my clothes down. He didn't rape me but he came very close. A. ran into the room grabbed my hand and ran me home. My brothers threw rocks at us from the roof. She said 'Don't ever come over again Jay. He wont stop. Don't tell anyone, he's my brother". I have not told a soul and i'm 16 years old. But the abuse doesn't stop there. Because of this i hate people i see as vulnerable or un-aware of the evil in the world eg. My little sister, currently 9 yrs old. I hate my little sister. I'm so wrong, aren't I?

A month and a half ago my step dad told me he was attracted to me. He manipulated me to think he actually cared for me and ask me to kiss him. He said he perved on my all the time and that he wasn't sure if we could have sex without hurting me (I have a back condition) and said that all he needed was a kiss because then he'd know if it was okay or not.I refused to many many times. He didn't get angry at me but he said he was proud of me for saying no. I kept saying no and went to bed. He said that when he was making love to my mother, he was picturing it was me.

A couple nights later he asked me to kiss him again. I said no and he begged me to kiss him. I said no and he climbed on top of me forcing his tongue in my mouth. He had his hand in my crutch. After he squeezed my bum, put his head in my chest and breathed heavily and kissed my neck. He repeated kissing me and when he was done he said "Go spray perfume on yourself so you don't smell like me when your mum gets home".
But I was strong enough to tell people two weeks ago. He's gone now but mentally his still on me, touching me, kissing me... hurting me.

I'm so confused and mentally scarred. I can't go to school yet because everything angers me. I'm angry at him but a part of me feels bad for telling. I know I can get past this but I don't remember how. I wish God could hear my prayers.
This sucks.

Jay G




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 Sarah

by Sarah
(Location Undisclosed)

What was happening was that on most days my mom was entering into my room in the morning and pinning me to a bed with her body- she has long been severely overweight- or finding me during the day and pressing me against a wall. Or sometimes I'd just hear her voice calling me and I knew that I might be in for it and go to where she was and patting her knee with her hand which was her signal for me to put my head there. She'd then proceed to search all over my face and sometimes my back for anything she could pick at, pimples to pinch, any pores that she could get something out of. While delivering a speech about how "dirty" my face was, how it was my fault, how much progress she was making and sometimes laughing with glee if it was something she was enjoying. I wound up going to school once with a peeling red face because she didn't believe that I had cleaned my face and repeated it with another cleaner which interacted with the first. As she indulged what I can only describe as an obsession- I've learned later that some people with obsessive-compulsive disorder do to their own faces what was happening to me, so I've wondered about it with her, because she also has other behaviors that are sometimes associated with OCD- I'd try to resist and tell her to stop, but risked her smacking me or tickling me really hard in response. Every year or so I'd get so fed up that I'd burst out in anger and she'd look at me in a stunned silence, stop for a few weeks, and then start over again. This sort of behavior runs in my mom's side of the family, my aunt has told me, it isn't something that just appeared out of the blue.




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Child Abuse Story From Britney

by Britney
(Location Undisclosed)


Ever since I was about 3 years old, I have been exposed to abuse. I believe that at a very young age you don't remember much but with the expection of tragedies. Growing up I always noticed something about my family didn't seem normal. My mother moved out when I was 3. I had an older sister that was 8 at the time and a 1 year old brother. My brother was young so he didn't know any better. But my sister always has been a daddy's girl and I've always been a mommy's girl. Let me just clarify though, my mother did not walk out on us. She had been physically, mentally and verbally abused. I can remember one night so specificly that I get shakey thinking about it. I can picture my mom sitting on the couch holding my baby brother and I was sitting on the other side of her. I can't completely remember what my dad was yelling at her about but I can remember his face. His vains showing and just beat red and angry looking. It was a scary time then and a scary time now. My mom was trying to defend herself and keep us safe. At one point, I can remember my dad ripping an ice cream sandwhich out of her hands and throwing it. After that I think he had her like trapped in the bathroom or something? I can't completely remember much after that though. All I know is that she left. From that night on for months we constinatly had police coming to our door. Just about every night it seemed like. Eventually, my mom started coming back. We lived on a farm and she wanted to continue working on it. They would be fine somedays but other days the abuse would just start all over again. There was one time when he wanted to be a real jerk about her leaving and we had this cow decoration hanging on the barn which was only about 10 feet from the road give or take. So one day I was getting off the bus and I remember my bus driver laughing but I was still young so I barely understood. After the bus went by I noticed he hung one of my mom's bra's on the cow and him and his friends were laughing about it. To me, that was just the worst thing ever because I was only like 7. So anyways, throughout my school years I had always had to leave class to go talk to someone. Whether it was CPS (child protection services) or a counsler. It always made me so mad because I never told anyone what was going on. After a while teachers were obviously catching on. To me it was embarressing. I would have to come back to classes crying and my friends would always ask questions which of course made it 100 times worse. I hated thinking about or talking about it. When my mom first moved out we went to court for custody. My dad somehow won and left my mom with few visitations. I hated it so much that eventually I was allowed to stay with my mom at her friends house for most the time. I have just always been a mommy's girl. I can remember my dad threating us about court though. He would tell us he was going to "spank" us if we didn't tell the judge we wanted to live with him. He used to question us about who we loved more him or my mom. I always answered, "mom." Eventually I began to pause and quietly say mom because of his reaction. He would slap me or if we were in the car he started driving like a crazy man. Anytime I ever said the wrong thing and we were in the car he began to drive super fast and put not only us in danger but other people on the road. He always had such a bad temper. He threw my mom through walls, name calling, he has choked her, and he even caused her to lose so much weight that at one point she probably didn't weigh any more then 90 pounds. And this was only the beginning. After my mom got a new boyfriend after moving out they were married a year later. So my dad got crazy and started vandalizing everything. He put molasses in the gas tank of my step dad's truck and used paint thinner to write curse words on the vehical. He threatend to burn down their house and one time he even shot a gun at my step dad. Luckily he wasn't hurt. So many things had happened. There are just a billion stories of the pain this man has put into a whole family.

To skip to present day, I am now 16 and finally living with my mom. I thought the abuse was bad when I was younger but the past 5 years were probably the worst years of the abuse I recieved. He basically treated me as if I were his servent. I cleaned up after him, and my brother and sister for years. They all took advantage of me. I had more then just normal chores, I did everything! And never once was I really thanked for it, ever! I just lived like a robot. It was miserable. If I didn't say the right thing or do something right, he wouldn't just yell at me but he would throw me across a room. He threw things at me. He would call me the worst names you could ever think of. I honestly don't know what I did to deserve any of it. If he was having a bad day or recieved bad news he immediately would take it out on me. I'm not sure if I got it so badly because I reminded him of my mom or what it was for him to behave the way he did. We never had a relationship. He ordered me to do something and I would do it and literally go spend the rest of the day and night in my room. I lived in my room. He knew nothing about me. He still knows nothing about me. I'm not even sure he knows my age. I just mean nothing to him. We have been going back and forth to court for at least 8 months now. He had my sister, whom I have not talked to since I moved out, to tell my mom that I can live with her as long as she still paid child support. So right there proved to us he only wanted me around for the money. Which never was spent on me. It was either spent on my brother and sisters horse shows or his alcohol and cigarettes. He is always at bars. He even goes to this one bar our town has and calls it "church" because he can go in the morning rather then at night. I still see his cars at bars all the time. He is always there. And his vehicals all have dents and scratches from his drunk driving. He has broken a good amount of laws. He tapped into a gas line and stole gas from the government and he has had all sorts of driving violations. He continued driving without a license for who knows how long. He even burnt down our house because of poor wireing. Let me just sum it all up with this man is a very bad man. He is heartless and selfish. I can't be happier to have him out of 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 Susan Mary

by Susan Mary
(New York, USA)

The secret's out: 
I grew up in a heroin household. With all it's craziness and turmoil. Having been left in a crib for hours possibly drugged with curdled milk bottles surrounding me, my grandparents took me away. My parents still came back periodically to get cash, rob or use. It is customary for a heroin addict to find some sanctuary where they can get money to score. Having one where your child is living will allow an addict a free pass in and out. After a lethal overdose, my life is now in the hands of caring grandparents. With plenty of booze flowing on Sunday afternoons after mass, there was singing dancing arguments and of course my God father the life of the party. My molester. I was 12 years old, with my Mother dead in the ground about 3 months in. I WAS FIRST molested, his hands under my shirt as I played a Great Aunt's piano. My heart broken with the loss of a Parent and now being touched, like a "no one cares about you anyway" object.He said I "felt" just like my Mother.I knew not to tell, I knew I would be blamed. It went on until I was an adult I just didn't want anyone to see or know. I was mortified that I WAS touched in such a manor, I could not bear for anyone to know.. I was, simply put, sick to my stomach. When i was 22 my cousin got married and I had a little too much to drink when a relative said that 'she forgave me' for allowing the molestation. That was all it took, I had left home at 16, alone in this world and now at 22 with my 300.00 outfit on I Was NOW about to lose my mind. I was slapped across the face by my grandmother and favorite cousin, driven back to my grandparents home and asked to leave the next day back to Florida on a plane. My family disowned me from that day on, yes some came into the fold after a period of time, that betrayal alone will never ever heal AND FOR THE SAKE of my grandmother I went through the motions. I talk to some but will never ever need them or desire anything from them.They did not believe me because he was so funny and the life of the party. Then years later one by one some confessed to "FEELING WEIRD" around this Uncle, It did give me some validation but the damage was done. I could care less about the 'blood family" I have. I have my own Child and happiness now and more friends then I can count that are MY FAMILY. My advice> if some one tells you they were molested listen and don't judge, life is not over yet, your children or grandchildren might be the ones telling SOME ONE, SOME WHERE that it happened to 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 Makysha

by Makysha W
(Maryland, USA)

I was sexually abused by several people from ages 3 to 9. I live in the same area where these crimes were committed. I want to say it never gets easier when you are constantly reminded of the horrible past. To this day, I am still harassed and stalked by the perps, because they believe no punishment will ever come to them. So it's important to tell my story and provide guidance for others living with the same circumstances.

My first encounter happened when i was 3. My Uncle W put his hand inside my panties and tried to insert his finger inside my vagina. His 12 year old stepdaughter did the same thing to me several days later. Obviously, she was a victim who became an abuser.

More incidents of sex abuse would follow. My babysitter allowed an older girl to abuse me in the same manner. I had to take off my clothes, so that she could force me into rubbing my vagina against her private area. Another time, the babysitter's son walked me to school. He forced me behind a bush covered. I was pushed to the ground while he tried to penetrate me with his penis. I yelled and the attack was stopped. I had to go to school with torn stockings and underwear. I told my mother about the incidents in front of the babysitter. To my horror, I was threatened with a beating for causing trouble. I never went back to that babysitter, but it did not matter. One of her male friends would come by my house while I was playing outside or on the porch. He would always ask me for sex. So, I stopped going outside and would stay inside to play.

It seemed to never end. My mother always had wild parties. One time, a man came into my bedroom. He grabbed me by the throat and forced me to perform oral sex on him. I knew I could not tell my mother, because she had previously threatened to beat me. So I felt I had no one to confide in. At a party I had to attend with my mother, a similar incident occurred. I was tucked away in a bedroom, so the adults could party without intrusion from kids. So, the teenage boy who lived at this place enters the bedroom. He proceeded to get on top of me, as if he wanted to have sex. I had to hit him as hard as I could, because no one could hear screaming with all the loud music. That stopped him.

Walking to school was not safe for me at all. There were times older teens, male or female, were looking for younger victims. I remember a female trying to make me pull my clothes off. I was scared and did it so that she could see my vagina. After that incident, I started taking shortcuts through a wooded area. That proved to be a worse mistake. Several times, 3 teen boys that lived on my street tried to accost me. It was an attempt to force me to have sex. They tried to get me another time while I was playing hide and seek. I was forced behind a car and held down by two of the boys. The third tried to force his penis inside of me. Something cracked inside of me, and I let out a scream from the depths of hell. I never went outside to play ever again. I confined myself to my bedroom to avoid any further incidents.

I had rough patches in my teen years. Most of the offenders began a smear campaign against me. There were lies spread about me being promiscuous, and I was tormented in school because of the lies. Twice,I ran away from home. Each time, it would last for a short while. I was unwilling to sleep with anyone for food or shelter. I tried to kill myself, and was committed for one month in a facility. As a young woman, I had 2 kids, but would never seek a relationship. With my first child, I left home pregnant. I wanted to abandon the child, but could not find the way to do so. Now, I'm a criminal Justice student. I would love to work for DEA or against child traffickers or sex offenders. I should not have went through those horrendous moments in time. However, it lead me to the beliefs and a career towards helping other victims of sex crimes. Thank you for allowing me to share my life. Please find peace within.




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 Julz

by Julz
(Australia)

What can one do about that word abuse: 
starts of abusive from word go... My mum had me in august 65 . she was just so devastated to have a child that she didn't really want and think i must have known, that i was not really wanted. so my self worth will there is none.

my dad went to war and was in the sas , how kool was that, but still no commitment from any of them , just good people trying to get a life. she left me in a single mothers home and return back to her people. Her sister come to get me , how nice taking on her sisters responsibility... they adopted me. My adopted father then sexualy abused me. Shock horror...

i took off at aged 13 and then slept and stayed wif my husband who was so abusive and messed up . we have 4 children. my adopted mother very ill from mental and emotional and sexual abuse. what do u say and what do u do. How do u actually heal and come right from such events. Especially when u have been outcasted for even mentioning sexual abuse. again very shocked and jus blown away. i even blamed god , i actually asked god not to leave me here. i even pleaded that he would take me , never happened.

i have some realli dysfunctional habits. so help me god. but the expectation of me is that i just get wif it. and u no what i have tried that, jus to be accepted. i have done it all well , here i am today , not sure if i can make another day of it.... abuse is devastating .. u think your the one who in is strange, but those around you have realli done the damage....and im realli not sure how they live , just not sure at all. i would run and hide. i c my grandchildren and i c how free they are , i have never experienced that freedom. just to exsist. how freckin sad is that. tomaroow i go and c a councellor becos i need to find a place for all this junk otherwise i will never recover.




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Child Abuse Story From Pennsylvania Jenn

by Jennifer
(Pennsyvania, USA)

When i was five or six years old i was afraid of the dark. I would have dreams of people killing me and hurting me, it got so bad i had to go to the doctors and she gave my mom a number to a psyciatrist. But i think I really couldn't get over my fear because my mom would shut me in my room at night and would say you'r not aloud to turn on the light and u can not come out of there! I would cry and scream for hours. My doctor asked me why i kept having the nightmares but i never could tell her i was really little. Now i'm fourteen i've been called everything you can imagine and am always getting put down. The nightmares stopped but my parents didn't. I get called worthless everytime i'm at my moms, and usually my stepdad calls me it. I actually start to believe them sometimes. I get cursed at constenly and everytime i say something i'm told im lying, im always lying! I told my dad about this and said sorry i cant o anything about it , you are lying. I recall one day when i was abot 11 leaving a can of soda on the able and gettting screamed and cursed at becuase they said it was my fault my sister climbed on the table and knocked it off. It was my fault, it always is my fault. I said i would call child services on them bt she said we arent doing anything wrong, it isnt tat bad. I get threats too. Im going to pull all you're hair out, i'm going to kill you. BUt maybe it isnt that bad?




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Child Abuse Story From Christina

by Christina
(Location Undisclosed)

This is my first time sharing this. It all happened so long ago that it's kind of fuzzy now. My dad was an alcoholic. He used to choke my brother and molest me. I don't know when him and my mom got divorced, I just remember it was always very complicated, and he was at our house most of the time anyway. I must have been about 6 years old or so when my dad came into my room, drunk, and took off his clothes. He pulled off my clothes as well and started rubbing himself on me. I told him to stop touching me but all he did was laugh and tell me to stop crying about it. He put his penis in my mouth and I tried to turn away from it but he slapped me in the face and had such an intense look of rage on his face I was forced to continue enduring his disgusting behavior. It was so gross when he finished in my mouth. I said it was gross and cried but he just laughed. He didn't care. When my mother got home I told her that he touched me, while he was standing right there, because she made me feel so safe. She had a terrified look on her face and looked at him with such shock I almost felt bad for ratting him out. I knew he was in trouble. And not too long after that we moved far away, to get away from him.

That's not all that he's done. I have a lot of memories of him doing terrible things to me and my brothers. He was such a terrible father. My mother is an amazing person, they are such opposites, and I think she has always felt bad for us kids.

About 8 years ago my grandfather (dad's dad) got put in jail for molesting some of my cousins. He had been doing it for a long time and according to them, he also did it to their mothers when they were young. So my father had most likely witnessed molestation growing up, his father molesting his sisters, therefore thought it was normal for him to do the same to me. His father used to always beat him as well, which explains the physical abuse to my brother. It seems like these things get handed down from generation to generation. I just wish my father had the strength to stop it.

I haven't told anyone this and my mother never brought it up again after that day. After she told me my grandfather was imprisoned about 8 years ago she asked me if I had anything like that ever happen to me. I told her no, I want her to think I was too young to remember. It's hard for me to talk about that stuff with her. She is such a great mom and she got me out of that situation but I don't feel comfortable talking about it with her.




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Child Abuse Story From Scott W

by Scott W
(Location Undisclosed)

bad bad my mother didn't want me because i was a boy she told my grandmother i was up for adoption so at the age of 2 and a half bad bad quickly i was abused by a male who took pictures then more men and a video camera bad bad almost everyday always weekends she was making alot of money i know because it went on until i was 7 all along being seriously physically abused my parents could smell i was having sex and told my grandmother to stop bad bad she gave them money to shut them up bad bad life was bad i was beat up at school from early on and have always been suicidal first attemped when 3 been taken to hospital half dead alot put in phsyc ward 14 months have 5 mental illnesses almost died from closiril white blood cell count dropped 3 weeks in isolation seeing doctor reg now take pills alot my life didn't start until i was 40 thats 5yrs ago in a way i'm a 5 yr old boy still not alright doc said i'm never happy half life left it stopped when i was 7 because man died then they all stopped they didn't trust situation but grandmother kept on bad bad almost arrested trying to pick up naked pictures of me while i slept cops grabbed her but she got out i can't say why i hate my family i live my childhood through my nephew i'm kept away from him because not all my family knows about me they say i'm retarded thats why i'm alone i never had a girlfriend or have been kissed they used to think i was gay now they don't care anymore as long as they don't have to look at me i'm starting to have other medical problems may have cancer and bad heart good i wish they would stop reviving me i will never come close to justice if i could live on an island i would sex to me is a nightmare i'm trying to forget and i don't understand why people kiss each other i don't like people that close to me i wonder what i would sorry just cried for 10 min i can't write anymore it's bad bad haven't cried for decades and i don't like it have to wait to see if this was a good idea




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Child Abuse Story From Shelby Doe

by Shelby Doe (not my real last name)
(Tampa, Florida, USA)

i was 10 when my dad and mom was the hardest people i could ever dream about. they would come home from a bar and be drunk and ignore me but when they were sober they would beat and beat me till i could not even move let alone cry they told me to be still and not to move when they'ed leave and i couldnt without eating sleeping or anything the ice cold freezer where they put me to lay locked up till they got home. i hate them with all my guts and now i can't repay them because they killed them selves after they had left me alone in the freezer and every night i'd try to open it and that night was my god rescueing me i opened it and got the chair brought it to the phone and dialed the only number on the wall wrote down on the paper some crack head and she gave me the number to the police station and i gave them our address after my mom told me to get the mail they hit redial and found out five minutes later and my dad freaked he went out side and got a metal base ball bat and that is what i remember other than me waking up not breathing with a police man over my shoulders and i'd look next to me and my dad up against the wall and my mom on the floor right beside me and they both were dead. PEOPLE SAY WHEN MY DAD HIT ME I STOPED BREATHING AND MY MOM FELT BAD AND MY DAD TOOK HIS PISTAL AND SHOT AND ME THEN SHOT HIM. WHEN HE SHOT ME I GUESS GOD SAD YOUR NOT LEAVING THIS HUMAN EARTH AT FOUR AND GAVE ME MY LIFE BACK I SURVIVED BEARLY HANGING ON JUST BY OXIGEN IN A COLMA ALMOST DEAD AND MY AUNT WALKED IN AND SAID HEY HUNN AND I STARTED CRYING I DIDN'T REMEMBER HER. i can't remember as much as i did when the police man asked at my house he retold the story to me and i put him in my life as my new father and every thing has been great since ohh yea did i mention my 1 1/2 year old sister when she was born the took good care of her but then she terned 1 and they beat her wurse than me she died on her birthday october 9 1994 and i don't think she wanted to stay alive anyways. me i am better i have a wooden leg i am currently staying in tampa florida living life as it goes by.




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 Confused and Abused SS

by Name Undisclosed
(USA)

I am a 45 year old woman and I know that I was sexually abused but I blocked it from my memory, I have tried to go back many times to see the person was but I cant or wont allow myself to see him. all I remember and I will try not to be graphic is an adults erect p***s and it was red (sorry but thats from my child memory) I remember feeling it was wrong and my body froze with shock. I also remember my grandfather molesting me but the first man was different, I hate to believe it but it may have been my father as I remember feeling very vulnerable and powerless of him and my brother, that I thought as soon as I started to develop my body (puberty) I was going to be raped and I would not have a choice as i was not allowed to own my body, my Father told me once that he owned me. I also saw my father dress my mum up in clothes I wore and they went off to have sex with her dressed like me, that makes me want to vomit. He put his hand up my skirt once mucking around when I was about 22 and I said NO you cant do that you are my father he said I can do that because I am your father. He also came home drunk and got in bed with me one night I was about 18, I froze and he made me scratch his back and told me to scratch his and then he went lower and touched my backside and then he suddenly switched the mood and pull the mattress on us and started laughing, but he said as he left... dont tell your mother. Please is there anyone out there that can tell me I could be right that it could have been him or am I crazy. I have never felt safe around my father sexually ever EVER, as he has got older its better but I am very careful what I wear around him as I am still a bit afraid of what I do not know.




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Child Abuse Story From MC

by MC
(Wisconsin, USA )

I don't know if I'm in the right place or not, but I have something to say. For many years, I've had this weird feeling like I didn't belong. When I was 11 and learned what sex was , I too learned what sexual abuse was. I started wondering if this could have happened to me, because I have various "symptoms" and have always felt really weird about something but never knew what. But that's a whole other story. I don't know if it's normal not to remember anything about the abuse. If I don't remember anything and just have a feeling I wonder if that means it never happened. To make matters worse, my sister started acting out and claimed sexual abuse right around the time I started feeling that it might have happened to me. I don't want to be a hypochondriac when nothing happened, and I'd feel awful if I said something that wasn't true. I just need to know, how reliable is a feeling. I don't know if I should go to therapy based on feelings and "symptoms" alone.




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Child Abuse Story From Mariah

by Mariah
(USA)

I havnt talked about this for three years and it still haunts me. Any little thing makes me shutdown now and heres why...

My mom had dated this guy for five years and then he proposed. I was excited because i'd finally have a dad; plus he actually looked to me as one of his own children already. He was a Sgt. in the military and was really buff & fit. Anyway, every year my mom goes to Louisiana to the essence festival. Well when i was thirteen, she wanted to go but she didnt have anyone to keep me. She called my aunts and other family but they couldnt make it out to where we lived because of work or prior plans. So my soon to be step dad told her that he'd keep me. Normally when ever she went out of town for business thats who i'd stay with. So about three days after she left, he came into the living room where i was watching tv and sat on the floor. He told me to come sit next to him because we needed to talk. So i did. We talked about how it would be when he was my dad and how he'd try not to change to much about how I lived my life and stuff. Then he started rubbing his hand up and down my leg, and when i scoot over he squeezed my thigh. Then he shoved me and rolled over on top of me. I was so scared that i couldnt think straight. He started kissing my neck and i head butted him. I swear when he punched me it was like my lungs caught on fire. He held me down and pulled down my shorts and i kicked an screamed like crazy. He put one hand around my thoat and told me "Scream again and i'll do more than punch you". So I just laid there and cried. He let go of my neck and told me not to move because he didnt want to have to hurt me. So i laid there and curled into a ball. When he came back he had an electric toothbrush. He told me to take off my underwear and lay down in front of him. I dont know what came over me but i jux lost all emotion. I felt empty ya know?.. So i laid in from of him and he laid down wit his face in front of my private area. He licked his fingers and started rubbing them up and down my private area. I had never done anything like that even with a boy i liked so it was very uncomfortable. He turned on the toothbrush and put it down there and i just started shaking. He put his fingers in me and started fingering me. I remember pressure building up in my stomach and then i couldnt stop shaking. I knew it was because of the toothbrush, but he wouldnt move it. I felt like i was having a seizure. He didnt move the toothbrush for what seems to be an eternity but was probably only 30 minutes. Then he moved it and pulled off his pants and underwear and started rubbing his penis against my private area and told me to touch it. I was nauseous by then and i really wanted to die. He moved my hand around and up & down his penis until he came all over my hand and arm. Thats when i threw up on him. Then he let me get up and he went on about his business like it never happened.

I was thirteen then and its been three years but i just cant bring myself to do or barely talk about sex. I told my mom and my best friend, but thats it. I have built up a wall between me and every guy i have talked to because of the fear i still have. My boyfriend grabbed me by the waist and i freaked. If he kisses me anywhere than on my face i shiver. My dating life as a 16yr. old has suffered because every little affectionate gesture can make me shut down. I cry a lot, even more than i did then because i cant fight the feeling of wanting to be left alone and not touched or talked to or anything. I havnt told my boyfriend about it yet, but i think its time.




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Child Abuse Story From Allie

by Allie
(Pennsylvania, USA )

I have suffered horrific abuse from my step father for years. It began when my mother re-married after a messy divorce from my father who I loved dearly. My new fathers name was M, and he was a heavy drinker and control freak. My mother wasn't home often due to a hectic work schedule so my nights were always spent alone with M. I was eight when he beat me for the first time.

I had just changed and crawled into my bed when he threw the door open and in his drunken state yelled "You didn't finish the f***ing dishes!" He had asked me to put the dirty dishes into the washer, but I was young and got distracted when I saw the colorful fall leaves spiraling to the ground outside the window, and had gone outside to play instead. M was furious and began shouting terrible words about how I could never do anything right and how I need to be severely punished in order to learn my lesson. He ripped the covers off my bed, grabbed my arm and started shaking me, screaming, until tears welled up in my eyes. I remember believing everything he was saying about how I could never do a job properly and how I would never amount to anything in life. I became terrified when he slapped me across the face and began sliding his belt out of the loops.

My fear overtook me and I bolted aimlessly for the door, but he was quick and grabbed me around the waist tossing me back onto the bed. Next he punched me hard in the stomach so I couldn't move or breathe. He took that opportunity to rip my nightgown off over my head and take my panties down with them. He then flipped me over onto my stomach and pushed his hand down hard on my back. I was crying hysterically, begging him not to beat me and promising I would never make such a terrible mistake again but it was no use. He brought the belt down heavily on my back, bottom, and back of my legs. I remember the pain reaching an unbearable state and all i could do was lay there and cry uncontrollably. He beat me so terribly I couldn't go to school the next day. I looked so terrible that my mother didn't question my illness and let me sleep.

Scenarios like this followed me all through middle and high school. I couldn't change in gym class for fear someone would see my welts and bruises. I always wore pants so no one would see the welts on the back of my legs and I tried hard not to wince when I sat in my chair. No one ever caught on. The boy I eventually grew closes to got suspicious when I refused to remove any of my clothing when we got romantic. The relationship didn't last due to my terror of his knowledge of my reality.

I am now almost nineteen and a freshman in college. I feel like a new person away from my hell and I think I have the strength to turn my life around. I don't visit home often and when I do I make sure my mother will not be leaving for work because my step father eyes me every time I walk through the door. I think he had a sick pleasure for beating my naked body senseless that I will never understand or forgive, but I will forget it. I will not let my childhood rule my life.




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Child Abuse Story From Tara

by Tara
(California, USA)

A Magnet for Child abuse of all kinds ;( 
My story is a little different from the ones i've read on this site. I was about 4 years old when it started.

See, my mom and dad split when i was 3. After they went their seperate ways i rarely ever saw my dad. It got to the point where my dad stopped seeing me. So that hurt a lot.

Six months after the split my mom and i had to move to a smaller place as we couldnt afford to stay where we were. My mom got a job soon after we moved. It was a full time job. I rarely ever saw her, the only time i did was on the weekends. On my mom's first day at work she came and picked me up from school and took me home. The minute we came home she took my hand and led me to the closet and told me i had to stay there till she came home. She threw some food inside and then locked the door on me. I was scared as it was very dark and i started banging on the door. There was no answer. The last thing i heard was my mom leaving the house and the door slamming. I just sat there crying feeling very scared. She came home 3 hours later and unlocked the door and told me it was bedtime I was so hungry i barely got anything to eat. I told her as much but all i heard was its bedtime. So i went to bed in tears, with an empty stomach.

The above event happened regularly, like every day. I would beg my mom not to put me in there. The one time i begged her i remember her saying i had to because there was no one else to take care of me. I'd lost weight because i was barely eating. A teacher at school noticed my weight loss and asked me if i was OK. But i never told her what was going on. I was too scared to.

Things began to be a little different a few years later, only different wasn't necessarily better, in fact right now i'd say being in the closet was a better option. I was 6 years old and my mom could afford a babysitter now. So she left me with a friend. Things were ok for a few days and i was happy not to be locked in the closet and was eating more again. A few days later the friend began making me do things for him. He made me kiss him and touch him and he would touch me, saying it was a fun game. It wasn't fun. It hurt a lot and i begged him to stop but he wouldnt. He would tell me at the end that it as a special game so i wasn't to tell anyone about it. I never did, i was too scared to. So while he baby sat for me he hurt me.

He was my 'babysitter' for a year. After that year my mom locked me in the closet again until she could find another babysitter. She didn't find a babysitter. But she found a boyfriend who she within six months married. Things weren't any better at all. See now i was soon to be abused by him. It wasn't sexual this time but physical. After he and my mom married my mom went to work while he was the 'couch potato' of the family. So when my mom left for work he would force me to clean up the house and stuff. When i spilt something or didn't do something right he would get his belt and whip me with it or kick me. I never told my mom what was happening but i think she knew but she never did anything about it.

So all this happened until i was 13 years old. My mom was still married to him but the violence stopped. I was a little older than what i was when all this happened so i pretty much took care of myself. I stayed out of the house as much as i could. But this wasn't the end off all things bad. i got into the wrong crowd of friends, who controlled me and I was forced into a world of drugs and other bad stuff. I lost my virginity sometime around then to a guy in the group who was a lot older than me and forced me to have sex with him. I didn't like it at all but i was sort of used to the whole cycle of abuse that i learnt to stop caring. My mom never asked me where i was or anything, so she was unaware about what was happening with me.

at 14 i got pregnant by the guy who i'd been sleeping with for a year. When i told him he beat me up so i miscarried the baby. A few months later he forced me to have sex with him and another friend of his, which got me pregnant again. I didnt want history repeating itself, so i made a decision to get out of that crowd and fast. unfortunately all my 'friends' knew where i lived so i knew that if i even just ignored them they would come to my house to get me. So i ran away from home. I left my mom a note saying i couldn't deal with all of this stuff anymore and just left home. I had saved enough money for a bus ticket out of the state and got on the bus and left.

So now here i am at 17 with a beautiful baby boy. In case you're wondering what happened after i ran away i stayed in a hostel and made a friend with a woman there who helped me find a real home, convinced me to go to therapy, made me go to school and helped me find someone decent to help me with the childcare. I'm not the mom my mom was, i'm always here for my little boy making sure he's safe and taken care of. im still going to school, making sure i graduate. I've not gone home since i ran away, i wrote my mom one letter to tell her i was ok and gave her my contact details but she never once made contact. i guess my mom is one of those moms who never gave a s**t. i wonder if she would've if she knew what was happening to me all those years.




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Child Abuse Story From Sandy

by Sandy
(Location Undisclosed)

My story begins from the time I was 3. I had 1 older sister and brother and a little sister who was born 12 years after me. My mother was loving and nurturing and protective of all of us. She was the only one who made us feel there was any love in the world. She was the one who was intelligent and had a good job which paid our bills and kept us from loosing the farm. My dad would go off drinking and on hunting trips between farming which never made any money. He resented us because of his responsibility to us. We were all subject to the emotional and verbal abuse of our dad. He was always criticizing mom and belittling us. If he broke a piece of machinery or made a mistake (even if we were not there) he would go off on a tirade cursing, and screaming and blaming any of us who were available and if we were not available he would seek us out to verbally pumell us. he would be especially mean after coming home from drinking. We would all cower, afraid he would go totally crazy. He had guns and sometimes I thought he might shoot mom and us when he was drunk ans angry. His brother, my uncle started to sexually abuse me at age 5-6.I don't remember a lot of details. He would wait until my mom was at work and my dad was outside and he would lay me down on the floor in the doorway of the living room and fondle, molest and rape me. He was 30 years older than me. He did this many times but I can't remember all of them. I could not tell anyone because he told me not to and even though I was not sure what he was doing I felt enormous shame and quilt. I made poor choices as a teen and started drinking and some drugs. I did not like men but they always seemed attracted to me in a weird sexual way and I wondered if my early abuse was like a pheromone to them. It is hard to trust anyone except women. I live life as a skeptic, cynic waiting for the bad. I am afraid of crowds and strangers. I feel lost and purposeless at times. It is difficult to feel trusting of my husband and to share vulnerabilities, even though we are married many years. We have 3 gown children who are great but our youngest son is now into drugs and has started to get into legal trouble. I always carry this guilt and wonder if my childhood baggage has somehow damaged my kids.




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Child Abuse Story From Amber G

by Amber G
(Location Undisclosed)

well , i know probaby alot of other peoples stories are alot worse then mine , but its just happend a few minutes ago and its making me mad im taking my anger out , but my mom her back was hurting so then i was pushing on it because she asked me too , then my dad pushed me out of the way and pushed on her back really hard then i pulled his hand up , or atleast i tryed cause he is pretty big , but then he just looked at me and sleps my arm so hard. I know my story probably dosent even count as abuse. but it happens alot now and there more then just this. I just needed to take my anger 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 AussieDave

by David
(Australia)

i can only remember it from the age of 4 to the age of 11, he may have done it before i started remembering but i don't know.
my uncle lived with my nanna who had full custody of my older sister and myself, my mother and father were both in jail for drugs, and i would often get left with him while nan and sis went off to bingo.
he used to ask me to sit on his lap and that is how it started. one night he put his hands down my pants and my hand down his on his penis and "gently and slowly play with his snake" then asked me to pull mine down saying it was our special secret game. i took my pants and underwear off and he fondled and sucked my penis and rubbed my anus. he had his pants down and he masturbated himself while he "pleasured" me.
after he did that to me a few times, one day he asked me to pull on his penis and suck it like an iceblock until the cream came out into my mouth. he did this almost everyday until i was 6.
the day after my 6th birthday, he gave me a bath and took me to his bedroom and laid me on his bed naked, on my stomach. he was naked as well.after he made me suck him he told me to spread my legs and he started to lick my anus and then put 2 fingers inside. he got a "balloon" and made me put it on his penis with my mouth then told me to get on my knees. he used vaseline then he raped me for the first time and i remember crying and telling him it hurt and i remember him saying "it will feel good next time." and i bled afterwards. when he was finished he made me lie in his arms until he fell asleep. oral and anal sex as well as masturbating him was almost daily until he died the week before my 12th birthday.
to this day i have told no-one and have received no counselling.




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 Miss Jones

by Miss Jones
(Australia)

I am not the victim of childhood abuse.
I am the partner of a man that is.
I have had two children to this man and I fear that they are going to live through the same childhood as my fiance, as he is unwilling to admit how badly this abuse has affected him.

My partner never knew his birth father. His stepfather, I will call him Andrew, used to hit my partner's mother...in front on my partner and his siblings. He would call them useless, ugly, stupid, 'No Good'..any type of emotional/ mental abuse you can think of, 'ANDREW' inflicted...he blatantly refused to take them to footie training or games, but if they played a good game, they 'could have done better'.. he physically assaulted my partner's grandparents and literally kidnapped my partner's youngest sister (THE ABUSERS ONLY BIOLOGICAL CHILD WITH MY PARTNERS' MOTHER)..he took photographs of my partner and his brother while they were in the shower...

I met my fiance when I was sixteen and he was eighteen, which was about five to six years after his abuser and mother divorced. And he was still being affected by it...he just didn't know it/ When I met him, he was unemployed, going to court for over 80 counts of break and enter and smoked marijuana. We are now twenty four and 26 respectively and have two sons, one is four and the youngest has just turned one. Our oldest child has autism spectrum disorder and he has seen more than a child his age should have witnessed. He is overly aggressive, even for someone with his condition, and I am so frightened by the prospect of his father unconsciously passing on the same burden that it makes me physically ill.

My fiance and I have been together for nearly eight years..we're two months from the altar and guaranteed, EVERY SINGLE time we argue, he tells me that he's leaving, that I'm a piece of s**t that has ruined his life, that I should have been drowned at birth and that when our boys grow up they'll realise what I'm like and will hate me just as much as he does. He refuses to take responsibility for his actions, telling me that 'I make him angry', which is why he acts the way he does. In the aftermath of our arguments, he doesn't even apologise for what he's said, although it probably wouldn't matter if he did because he's said it in the first place. He was never like this in the three years before we had children or lived together and I when I look back, I cannot for the life of me pinpoint the moment it all turned to s**t...

I don't know if this will pass as Abuse Survivors Story, but i just want to tell the story of someone who has FELT the effects..like i said earlier, I am not the victim of childhood abuse, however I am the victim of someone who is, and isn't that just as bad?? My children are feeling the effects and that's what hurts me the most...unlike my partner, I cannot justify continuing the cycle, as much as I feel I would be justified..?? Long story short, how can I get my partner to see that it's his ACTIONS that continue the cycle, not his intentions?? Please help 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 Sarah-Elizabeth

by Sarah-Elizabeth
(Location Undisclosed)

When I was four, my brother began playing "special" games with me. The games consisted of "Doctor", "Practice Mommy/Daddy" and depending upon the day, other such made up games. At first, I did not mind these games they, at points, seemed fun. I did not know what we were doing, I believed that every brother and sister played these games.

When I was six, I began to ask him to stop touching me and making me play these games. He insisted that it was normal, and if I told Mommy or Daddy they would think I wasn't normal... I wasn't normal because I did not like his games. The games continued, but he got angry, infuriated. His rage seemed to develop around the time of my parents divorce. He began hitting me, punching me, kicking me.

When I was eight years of age, he forced me to have sex with him for the first time.

I had just got home from ballet, Mommy was going out on a date. After she had left, I was in my room, changing out of my black leotard and plush-pink tights. He came in and began beating me-pulling my hair, punching my chest, head, neck, arms, etc. He, then, raped me.

This soon became a weekly ritual.

I wanted to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Maybe if I weren't so imperfect he would not have done this to me. I soon developed an eating disorder as means of coping. In addition, I began self-mutilating. When I was 11, my therapist became suspicious. He uncovered what was going on. Social-Services was called on my twelve birthday. I was sent away to a residential treatment center because of my eating disorder.

When I came home, eight months later, I was told I was going to be living with my father and step-mother. I lived with them, without my brother, for about 7 months. I then attempted suicide.

I was kept in a psych ward for 17 days. They sent me home to my mother's house. I lived there, with my brother, for about 5 months. My eating disorder and self-harm became out of control. On one specific occasion, I self-injured extraordinary severely. My brother was then forced to move in with my father.

I, now, live with my mother.. Everyday is a struggle. Though, no one would ever know, because I wear a beautiful facade. I live the perfect life in other individuals eyes. If only they knew...

Well, there is my story... I am ever so sorry if it has hurt, offended, or bothered anyone.




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 Mari2

by Mari
( USA)

I am 16 years old, soon to be 17. I struggle with depression, anxiety, low self esteem, drug addiction, absolutley no confidence, i dont trust or have respect for adult or parental figures, I have relationship/trust issues etc. the list goes on. I know i seem like your normal typical teenage girl but I havent had a great child hood at all, actually my child hood was never the same after i was 4.

I was molested by my step cousin. He was around 11/12 years old. Im pretty sure it started when i was 4 almost 5 maybe? But for some reson the thought always crosses my mind, did it start earlier? i dont have the answer to that though. I remember some specific moments and others not quite so much. He rubbed/touched me, kissed me, made me watch porn made me give him oral sex and did the same to me. He never raped me which i am so greatful for. At the time when it was happening it diddnt bother me but i remember having nightmares of boys from my after school program, ripping my clothes off and touching me all over, im not sure how many but i remember a few specific ones and i was scared and terrified in the dreams. I told my dad about one of them, whenever he decided to come around and he diddnt really seem concerned but he was a drug addict at that time. I never told anyone about it.

Anyways i moved away when i was about 6/7 and never seen my step cousin. I sort of forgot about it all but i did terrible things. I masturbated A LOT! even at day care! i even did innapropriate things with my cousins like kissing and playing doctor and it wasnt really bad, it was very innocent compared to what happend with me. Now i am almost 17 and it is really starting to catch up with me and bother me. Im really beating myself up about it all. I wish i would of said something at the time and i hate that i diddnt think it was wrong even though deep down inside i knew it was, and i hate myself more than anything for doing those innapropriate things with my cousins. I feel like i am just as guilty and bad as my step cousin and i am very ashamed of it all. The whole situation. I am in therapy (going to quit soon) and it hasnt helped and i told my mom recently a few months ago and she was understanding but i told my dad (who is now partially sober) about it and he wasnt caring or supportive like my mom was, he basically told me to shake it off and move on. He kept making excuses saying young boys like that are horny and dont know anything. When he said those things to me i was destroyed and shocked, but now im full of rage from it. Me and him dont speak to each other because he is controlling and mentally abusive. I am distant with almost all of my family, I dont get along with anyone in my house, i dont have many friends anymore (only my drug buddies) im really lost and in a dark world right now. I really do want to get help but i am too ashamed and upset. I cant speak but i can write, as long as i dont know the person and as long as they dont know me. Sorry for making this so long. i have so much more to say but i dont think the internet is a place to put my whole life story. Thank you for your 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 Anonymous Girl

by Anonymous Girl
(Location Undisclosed)

I was about 7 i think when my brother and 2 cousins were hanging around the school. Then we thought we heard people at the school so we decided we had to leave because we shouldnt of really been there. So my brother thought it would be best if we split up. So he decided that i would go with my oldest boy cousin and he would go with our 2nd oldest male cousin. When we got behind a bulding to try to hide my cousin said to me that well were waiting we can play a little game and he pulled down his pants and said the game is this u have to suck my penis and if u hurt me then u lose. Because i was young and i thought it was just silly little game then he told me we had to go or the others will get worrid about us but he warend me not to tell anyone or we will get into trouble because no one really thinks that game is fun. So we left then everytime we were at Nans he would walk into the bathroom and start saying that he has another game to play and he started touching my vagina and playing with it. But i still thought it was a game so i kept playing along. Then i started to learn about this stuff because i would watch the news a learn about this stuff and my dad would say how these people are bad people. So one day when i was 9 and i was sitting on Dads bed talking to my Dad he said that i can tll him anything so i finally told him. He wasnt too happy about it and was even more pissed off at my brother because my dad told him not to leave me alone.

I sorta blame myself for this because i shouldnt of let him get away with it for so long. But he should have known betta because he was like 16 at that time. 8 years later i have a little brother and sister and i am soo worrid that someone is going to do this to them. because there are so many sick people out there.




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Child Abuse Story From Maritza

by Maritza
(Location Undisclosed)

I look in the mirror today, right now, and all I see is pain, hatred, disgust. I hate myself, I hate my abuser and I hate everyone who's happy. I was abused at the age of 7. My cousin L was taking care of me and I loved him because he was young and fun. L whispered into my ear and said "I love you, do you love me?" I responded with "of course silly you're my cousin" but my definition of love and his definition of love were totally different. He put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me back. All of a sudden his tongue was down my throat and his hands were on my private parts he stroked me down there and was laughing like we were both having a nice time. I closed my eyes really tight. I was in shock. I didnt know why it was wrong but I knew something wasnt right. I closed my legs and wiggled around as hard as I could but he was stronger and so I gave up and laid there.

Every time i went over to his house I had to put up with his disgusting demands. He even tried to rape me once. I remember being on the floor and he next to me and I felt something on my leg but I didnt know anatomy back then so it was nothing. Then he got on top of me and began to kiss me again. He took my hand and made me touch it. then he began to rub my vagina and then as he was beginning to take his pants off (he made me touch him through the zipper) the door was opening and he got up fast and left like nothing happened. He never tried after that.

The abuse went on for years. I think till i was about 11? I cant remember, really I try not to remember. And you know what is so disgusting on my part? After all the abuse I began to think it was ok. I thought it was normal. One time when he came to my hosue I was upset because he didnt want to kiss me. THATS SO GROSS! Am I as nasty as he is? I mean I mean I never told him to stop. why didnt i try harder? I just laid there and took it.

Now I am 238 pounds because I never wanted to be beautiful again. I thought no one would ever touch me again. I was right. I'm 17 and I've never had a boyfriend.

He ruined my life. I'm ugly, depressed, friendless, and broken while he's left untouched. I've even been abused by 2 other cousins before i turned 11. Lucky me right? It isnt fair.

Sometimes I want to tell my parents why I'm so sad, but I cant. I'm so alone I feel dark inside. I feel gross. I feel dead inside.




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 Amy P

by Amy P
(United Kingdom)

Life was hard being a kid: 
My childhood wasnt very good. Before i was born there was my sister and my mum didnt want her at all and was going to put her in care, bt my Grandma and grandad took her in and looked after her from when she was 4 month old. A few years later my mum met my dad and I was concived. When i was born i was dosed up with calpol to help get me to sleep so that they didnt the could play one agianst the the other with smoking. Nearly 2 years later my sister was born and my mum did the same to her. soon we wasnt fed properly cause if we had a sandwhich she would cut it into quarters and we would only eat one on them. 4 years after that my mum had my brother. N soon the marriage was breaking up they started to argue between themselve about everything but us kids. Well soon the divoused and we moved with our mum and soon she started hitting me, my sister and brother with canes.But one night was the worst my mum went dancing every monday night and normal my dad looked after his kid to spend time with us. But this one night my mum boyfriend looked after her kid. Mu brother recently started school and started to wet the bed. My mum boyfriend went up stairs and ran my brother a bath and started to shout that woke me and my little sister up. I went kept getting up to see what happening but i got shouted at to get back to bed. when the bath was ran he put my brother in and cause the water was too hot he started to cry and my step dad started to forse my brother agianst the bath tub. it soon calmed down and we all went to sleep before my mum got back. The next morning we woke up and it got dresses and went down stairs and my siter notice my brother ears and they where black but mum blamed us kid and got the cane onto us that morning. we went to school. during that time my mum took my brother to the see a doctor and child services was called. Me and my little was taken out of school at lunch time in the car there was a social worker that we now know that they have not left out life since. We went for something to eat and went to have a medicalcheck up and us three kid was underweight and we had bruises every where on our bodys. we went to the police station and had to give a statment on what happened. my mum boyfriend admitted what happend so us kid did nt have to go to court. That night we moved in to our dads he had no food for us so he borrowed some money and did some shopping. Then he started sexual abusing my little sister. In January 2006 my sister told a teacher at school and we had to make another statement about what happened to her. At this point i felt really guilty cause nothing like that happened to me.Then that night we were taken into foster care six month later we was put in to the care of our Grandma.shortly sfter moving in with grandma he was put in prison for 4 years.And on the sex offendered list for life. Last year he was realsed and we dont know where he is at the moment. i am so glad that i am out of that situation now and from that day weve been very happy and i am happy i am a lucky one that still alive to tell my story.




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Child Abuse Story From Amy About My Son

by Amy
(Illinois, USA)

My 15 year old abused two of his cousins and his half brother: 
My son abused his cousins and his half brother after my sister passed away. Or at least that's when it came out. Prior of that he had abused his brother at least a couple times before. I don't kow how to move forward....

Amy




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Child Abuse Story From Stephen

by Stephen
(Location Undisclosed)

The cycle of abuse

The cycle of abuse

An emergent memory: 
An adult recounting an early childhood incident of abuse, and it's emotional fallout.


This is not a diatribe about how bad life is, or how evil my parents were. It is a brief narrative of a day; in which a missing pair of glasses back in 1976 lead to a 43 year old man becoming suddenly awake at three in the morning, sweating, aching, and filled with dread and the urge to vomit...followed by the strong urge to dig his father's corpse up for the purpose of feeding it, feet first into a wood chipper. (Fortunately that was just a passing flash of anger...something survivors of abuse refer to as "tsunami-class waves of anger")
My father couldn't find his glasses, and being nearsighted, this meant that he wasn't very functional. this memory invaded my sleep. Not as a dream, but as a replay of clear, normal memory. Being away from my family, and his death in 2006 has lead to my being able to bury both him and his many sins.
The memory is that he turned to me, and vented his rage. I was eight years old. I weighed 65 pounds, and was slender. I was about five feet tall (I don't have photos from that time of me, and even less memory of that stage of my childhood), and a scar on my cheek from where something had cut me just in time for a school photo to capture it. He had already made his rounds through the living room; having turned furniture over, and worked his way through my brothers and sisters from the oldest...and now it was my turn.
He put his right hand around my throat; while at the same time he was pushing me backwards against the wall, the back of my head hit the solid wood step's corner of the staircase behind me-gashing my scalp and creating an indentation into the back of my head which can be felt to this day. He tightened his grip, while lifting me, causing me to choke. I couldn't make the scream I felt rising in my throat out of my mouth; I began to feel the color bleeding out of the room into grey, blurry swirl...and a warm, unwelcome wetness coursed down my left leg and made an audible dribbling sound as it hit the wood floor, meaning I had just wet my brown and white plaid slacks.
He shook me, while still dangling from his hand which was acting like a noose, and as my eyes opened to this sudden shaking, he screamed into my face, "Where are my glasses!?" Then blackness came over me like a wave of dark, cold water...and the depths of nothingness pulled down. Then a gasp which didn't feel like me, and a rush of cool air. I was on the floor, crumbled on my side-lying in my own wetness, and he yelled, "Get up!"
He dragged me over his knee, and using his right leg, brought it over the back of my neck, which cut off my breathing again while he commenced to whip my legs, back and buttocks with his leather belt, which sported stainless steel rings at the end he held. As I sought the descent into blackness to avoid the pain, he released his leg's pressure, and yelled, "Breathe!" Then began again until the blackness welcomed me back. In my mind, I thought that this was what Hell was like, but without the fire...just blackness and oblivion.
Then my eyes opened, and I was somewhere else. Specifically I was in the emergency department of Adventist Hospital, where my mother was talking to someone about how I "choked myself accidentally".
It turned out that my father's glasses were in his car all the time, and he saw them while loading me into it to take me to the hospital, because I was breathing too shallow to remove the blueness from my lips.
Thankfully, this incident was forgotten by me until today, July 27th, 2010...at 03:00 Eastern Daylight Time.
He's dead, so where do I go to redress this injustice? To whom shall this anger be given? I feel as though had I died that day, that at least it would have been merciful, in that I wouldn't understand that my father wasn't mistaken or confused; but rather a sick and sadistic man who enjoyed his infliction of pain on others...perhaps as a transference of his own pain. No one in my family was unaffected by his rages.
At least, being dead now, I can take refuge in knowing that he can't hurt me anymore, except through the medium of memory, and the process of my memories bubbling to the surface of my conscious mind to torment me.
I must confess that I do take a twinge of vindication in thinking (like a good Roman Catholic) that he still must face God's judgment for his actions, and hopefully; while Hell beckons him--he has for one single moment of clarity, regret about being such a cruel person to so many people.
Goodbye, Dad. despite your torments, I don't really wish Hell for you, and I do offer forgiveness...but I can't forget.
My only hope is that my father's generation is the very last to get away with these, and other wanton acts of violence against children. I do know that it is my own childhood experience which made me swear never to raise my hands to anyone--ever! Hitting is hurting, no matter who does it. It's a crime, and it's got to stop. So if you're angry with someone, remember this story before you make a fist!




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 Anne C

by Anne C
(Scotland)

Growing up in Scotland was quite hard as my parents didn't have a lot of money and they had 5 kids. numerous thing happened that changed the way my parents looked at life they became addicted to alcohol when i was about 12 years old. From this age my mums brother began abusing me most weekends. i would escape from the alcohol and verbal abuse to be sexually abused by this person. it wasn't until i was nearly 18 that i put a stop to the sexual abuse. for yeras after though i suffered form flashbacks and nightmares. At times where there was a lot of stress in my life the flashbacks would be worse.

On Decenber 2008 i went to the police and made a satement of what was happening to me as a teenager. This person has been brought to justice but because i waited so long to report it they could not prove historical rapes. This person pleaded guilty to lesser charges of sexual assault.

I am now 30 years old and still have problems in my life because of the abuse. I think it's because he was sentenced quite recently. Because of the abuse i have suffered problems with drink and drugs.




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 Linda B Part 2

by Linda B
(Location Undisclosed)

I read the book "It", and wrote to the author with the theme, you think you had it bad , listen to this and then started my story with the intent to "one up " him on suffering.Never heard back from him. I endured every type of abuse there is, but the worst was my mothers pursuit of erasing hope from my life. After my dad died, and a lifetime of proving to them that I really am a good person, I thought they would see the light and admit what they did to me and apologize, but sitting at my dads deathbed, he showed no remorse and made no attempt for atonement. Then after my dad died my mother came up and low an behold after all these years she still can't help but become a monster when we are alone. I finally had her pack her bags and shipped her off to my sisters. I have washed my hands of her and realize that I must be a strong person to have survived being raised by someone who so narcissistic that they can rationalize torturing a child. Some people are just evil and unfortunately some of them are our own parents.




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Child Abuse Story From Dawn F

by Dawn F
(New Jersey, USA)

ten years of my life: 
Im 15. Ever since i can remeber i was sexualy abused. When i was 2 1/2 my father made me give him oral. Or at least thats what i've been told since i dont remeber that far back. My parents used to alow this one man to stay in the house. He was considered a family friend. Well all the time he would kiss me and tuch me and make me tuch him. My mom caught us kissing once but she thought it was just play.
We would do it right in front of everybody as well. We would be under a blanket or sheet stroking eachother. The thing that i wont ever be able to let go is that, i never said no. I kinda knew it was wrong but i went along with it any way. Every time after wards i would go and wash my hands. I felt dirty but went along any way. I never told any one but one day he told my parents, and i felt embaressed. He never tuched me again after that. But we went places all the time, but never alone.
My friends father molested me as well. He would come over and hold me while i was wearing my night gown. He would stick his hand up there and play with me. We kissed a cupple of times. He taught me how to french kiss. Every time he came over i would hide in a closet but my brother thought that i was playing and told him where i was. He never got arrested but my mother wont alow me to see him any more. I dont want to anyway.
The other man was my moms cousin. On the first day he met me he wanted to kiss and tuch. I did because he was so nice and did everything for me and my brothers. I only tuched him fully once. He only saw me twice and he never came down again.
The last thing i want to talk bout is "the night." I forget when but i belive it was in January. It was night. There was a loud knock at the door and it was DYFAS and the police. I dont know who called them but that night they arested the first man i was talking about. And than my dad. The last words my dad said to me were "Stay there i'll be right back." I never saw nor talked to him again after that. Im not alowed to see him untill im 18. The thing i regret most is that i cryed more over the man than my own father.
And of course the after math of the matter. I got really dominant and decided to take control of the house. I beat up my mom and my brothers. One time the police had to come and put me in Crisis.(I've been there a lot over the years.) My CMO worker asked me if i would like to go into a home where i was away from my faimily. I said yes and i went into foaster care for two years. When i came back i told my family that i loved them and since than i've only hit my mother once. Over the summer of 2010 i was in a parital care program where i would go most or half of my day with other kids getting therepy. I was there for 5 months. I graduated on September 2nd. Im now in 10th grade and so far i think im doing good.
The problems- I smoke and drink. I've had intercourse twice in my life and have given oral more times that i can count. I cut my body. I dont like the way i look. I curse a lot. And i feel as though im falling away from God.
Things that keep me going- Being able to see my dad before he or me dies. My family. My friends. P___ (my future husband) and animals.
Mental dissabiltys- Depersion diorder, Bipolar, ADHD, impulstivity, defiance, i used to be schitozo but that cleared up.
I am on two medications. One for sleeping since i cant sleep with out them, and one for depresion.
Thank you for taking the time to read 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 Haileigh

by Haileigh
(Texas, USA)

Aggravated Sexual Assault: 
I'm 14, and I was sexually assaulted. I hope by sharing my story that it could help someone in someway like I needed help.

My sister insisted that we should go to a party, I agreed because I would die for her attention.
We were going to stay the night at her friend's house.
He was 20 so she figured nothing would happen.
We all had plenty to drink that night and I asked the guy we were staying with if he could please set up my bed. It was just me and him and I went to go lay down on the bed because he made me feel akward.
He followed me and he pinned my arms and legs down and started kissing me. I said "no" plenty of times for him to get the point, and I told him it was wrong because he was so much older and I didn't want to do that with him.
The room my sister was in was very close and in hearing range so I cried out for her, and i'll never forget thinking "he's going to rape me and my own sister won't come help me."
I wanted to throw up.
He didn't rape me but he did enough..

But there is hope,
I reported it.
And if you've ever been through it you're not alone.
You can report it and there are hotlines.

I'm haileigh
I'm 14
and i'm a survivor.




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 Nick

by Nick
(Location Undisclosed)

The sexual abuse started when I was 3, my older siblings had to go to school and my parents had to work so they tried to find a sitter and this old priest guy in our apartment block volunteered to do it for free so they left me with him during the day. At first I liked it, he bought me toys and let me watch television I liked him more than my parents but after a few weeks he said since he was so kind to me I had to be kind to him, that's when he started molesting me. I hated it so much it made me feel dirty and bad but I was scared to tell my parents incase they'd get mad so I stayed quiet but then on my 4th birthday he said I deserved something special, he took me into his bedroom and raped me, I fought, I swear I did but it didn't matter, I've always been small for my age, I didn't stand a chance really.

I finally brought up the courage to tell my parents, my Mom was mad, she told me I was horrible for making up such awful lies about such a kind person and my Dad said he believed me but he didn't care as long as he didn't have to pay for a sitter and that it was my fault anyway for letting it happen. That hurt too, I'm so worthless my own parents hate me. The abuse continued, he raped me every single weekday for nearly 2 years (he died just before I started kindergarten), sometimes he even brought his friends round and they took it in turns to rape me.

Then there's my parents, I never realized it was abuse before but my parents both say horrible things, they call me names and tell me they wish I'd never been born and that their lives would be perfect if they'd never had kids, they never do normal parent things either like hug you or even praise you. My Dad beats me when he's drunk, he says I deserve it because I'm a retarded dyslexic loser. When I was young he held my hand to a hot stove until I told him I was sorry I was alive. When I was 9, my older sister died my Dad blamed me and he beat me over and over evreyday for weeks so much social services took me into foster care for awhile and the psychiatrist who was supposed to help me, all he did was rape me and he said if I didn't let him then he'd never let me go home.

I know it sounds stupid but I was glad to be home with my parents, my brothers both hate them but I still love them even though no matter how hard I try they still hate me. There must be something wrong with me right? Well their is, I can't sleep at night and then when I do I just have nightmares about being raped, I've never had any friends in school as I cannot trust anybody, I flinch if anyone touches me even if my little sister just wants a hug and I'm terrifed of priests and psychiatrists, or anything to do with them. I'm only 14 and I'm pretty screwed aren't I? I know I sound kind of pathetic when many people have been through far worse than I have.

Things aren't so bad now, when my older brother turned 18 he moved out and took us all with him. Mom left months ago saying she is fed up and Dad just died from cirrhosis of the liver so I'm not being abused, I alone miss them both alot. But at least I have my siblings, we're okay now.




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 Allie

by Allie
(Indiana, USA)

this feels weird to talk about...i'd always had a really close-knit family..i really loved all of them. then on my 7th birthday i went to my grandma's house. all of my cousins and everyone were there. my cousin told everyone he and i were going into the play room to read the new books i got for my birthday. he took off his pants and told me to play with his penis. then he told me to take off my pants..and he just poked around for awhile. he did this probably every month for three years. he was seven years older than me. when i turned ten, he raped me. he continued this until i was 14 years old. i've just recently told my parents about this. i'm 17 now.

when i started high school, a family friend started coming over a lot when i was home alone, unannounced. then he started raping me, twice a week (when my parents worked) for about six months. he died in a car accident. my parents will never know about what he did to me.

meanwhile...my mom wasn't exactly my main support system. she used to beat me every night. i've had three concussions from her slamming my head into a wall. i've had to repaint my room three times because of the blood. when i was in 8th grade, me and my mom got in a car accident. i jumped in front of her body because her air bag didn't work. the only reason she is alive is because of me. she had told me every day since my recovery that she wishes i would have died back in that accident. she constantly tells me how i'm such a screw up and she wishes i was never born. i don't get what i did to make her hate me so much.




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 Kelly2

by Kelly
(Location Undisclosed)

It is hard to know where to start so Ill just write it down here. When I was 9 years old our family moved house, my parents were and still are very loving people, I am an only child and they have been just the best parents I could have wanted. My school work was good, I have lots of friends and I appear to be happy all the time but I am hiding the dark and evil within me everyday.

We moved next door to my uncle and everything was fine and happy for awhile, we would go round his house, have dinner there, watch tv, just do family things like everyone else did I guess.

The first summer holiday when I was still 9 years old my parents left me with my uncle, I think they just wanted a meal out or something.

After my uncle had gave me my tea he told me to go upstairs and wait for him on his bed, being so young I did as he asked, about 5 mins later he came upstairs looking very angry, he told me id been naughty and very bad because I had been making him feel funny, he told me I had to do everything he asked and never tell anyone, if I told I wouldn't see my mummy again and he would send me away, I beleived him.

He got a bible out an did some sort of crazy speech and said my body was now his and made me agree.

He then took his trousers and pants off and put his penis in my mouth and made me suck it, he also grabbed a video camera and started filming, he told me to stand up on the bed and take my clothes off, I was very scared and felt sick but I did it, he laid me down on the bed and put an old purple towel under me, he put his finger inside me, the pain was very bad, he started off slow but then did it faster and faster telling me It was his body now and not to shout or make a sound, it was hard not to but somehow I kept silent, he then put another finger in and started again, he then made me suck his fingers and he licked me down below and then my legs and feet, he washed me after that and said we were ready for sex, I didnt know what sex was, I didnt know why or what he was doing, I knew it was wrong but it was very confusing and scary.

He then pushed my legs apart and I was still in pain, he pushed hisself in me just a little bit telling me I was doing well and that I wasn't so naughty anymore, he pushed in further and was going faster, the pain wasn't as bad, I dont know why, it felt nice, I didnt know why. He made loud sounds, I didnt know why, he got off and I felt something dripping onto the towel, he washed me again and put some paper on it and then put my pants on, he told me to get dressed and he brushed my hair, he told me I was his again, I said I wouldnt tell. He said I had to see him every week, my head hurt I couldnt think about anything, I didnt know anything, I was just young.

My parents said they were going out for a meal again, they did every week, I don't blame them, they were just having a break from me and leaving me with my uncle, they didnt know either. The next week it was the same thing, as the weeks turned into months the pain had gone, he said I was now fixed and told me to enjoy it, he would still use his video camera and make me look into it and say things, he would make me put things inside me and then put him inside me, he made me do everything.

Why didnt I tell, am I as bad as him, I was still very scared, I had to do everything he told me.

When I was 10 he was still having sex with me, id lost count, it was just something i had to do to get back to my normal life, this time somebody else was there, I was really scared, my uncle said he had joined our special group and I was to show him how good I could be, they both made me do things, I was bent over but I didnt understand why the pain was back with this new man, my uncle said it was normal and it would go away, I didnt know but now I know he had put it in my bum, then it was back to normal sex again.

My uncle asked my parents if Id like to go on holiday with him and his new girlfriend, I said yes and spent the night crying, it wasn't his new girlfriend, he told my parents he was picking her up on they way but he picked up that other man, I could see the video camera on the back seat, I knew they were going to have sex with me all week, they did, the other man was in my bum again, then back to normal sex, I dont know how long it lasted but I know it was along time, they would make me watch the video they had done of me, I never really got dressed, I was kept in the room, i had to eat naked, then i would have to play with them onto a piece of toast and eat it, it was horrible.

When I was 12 they were still having sex with me but they would wear something on it to stop me having babies. Even though I was older they still had mu body and my mind, they would control me, i dont know how but they did.

Two days after my 13th birthday my parents were crying, my uncle had died, the first thing that was on my mind was the tapes of me, why didnt I feel happy, that it wouldnt happen again, the tapes were never found, the other man must of had them, I bet he still does, I never told, I just couldnt.

Im 19 now and have never had a boyfriend, I cry everyday, I feel so dirty. I put on a very good front, I always have. I need to go now, Im shocked Ive wrote this, Im glad I did and Im sorry for people that read it, I know its just so horrible.




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 Giselle

by Giselle
(Location Undisclosed)

My Mom is a cold heartless person. She never really liked me. She made it clear that she despised of dark-skinned people. My oldest sister was brown-skinned then she had my Littlest sister who's half white so she the lightest of the three of us. She used to physically and verbally abuse me up until this day. I'm now 13 she doesn't physically abuse me as much I guess cause she figured out i'd hit her back. One time she had whopped me for telling my cousins she had got a shot in her butt (oooooh that's so bad.) I was like 4 or 5 at the time. She was whipping me with the belt and I was crying telling her to stop and she wouldn't so I kicked her in her mouth which only made it worse. She stopped dead in her tracks looked at me and said "you little b****!" Then she kept hitting me until I whelps all over my arms.

I was never the really thin one I wasn't fat either more like thick all my life. My Mom called me fat all the time (even though I wasn't). She bragged about how she was so skinny and used to where I size zeroup until she was 16. She even once said she loved my sister more than me. Another memory I have was when I was like 6. She and my older sister who was maybe like 8 or 9 at the time where laying in her bed all cuddled up on a cold winter night. I came in and layed at the foot of the bed because there was no more room for me up top. I guess she didn't want me in the bed so she took her foor and kicked me in my lower back causing me to fall and roll of the bed. I ran into the tall dresser which fell on me. She didn't even help get the dresser off of me she just wallked out the room and went to go make she and my sister something to eat.

I know it sounds weird but I never really feared my Mom. She was just like outsiders to me. I feel guilty to say I don't like her and I have wished bad things to come upon her. I also remember when I was 10 my mom had her boyfriend living with us he was very mean I didn't like him at all. He verbally abused me, my sister, and my mom Which he beats her. Then what made me mad she went and had a baby by this abusive man. I got outta there but I worry about the baby.

I have been beaten, molested by my older male cousins, mentally and emotionally abused. I'm currently living with my Uncle who's very decent I love him alot. He can't have kids so he treats me like im his daugher. He gets me any and everything I want. I still see my Mom but we don't talk at all. She's still with her abusive boyfriend. Which has been for like 3 years now. My baby sis is 7 months and crawling. My sisters are the only values in life that I have right now and I wouldn't trade either one of them for anything.

Thanks for reading my story.




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Child Abuse Story From Anna

by Anna
(Pennsylvania, USA)

Dear Darlene: 
I am an old woman now just turning 67. It saddens me to read all these stories of child abuse but I am happy that today these things are more out in the open. To be able to discuss things and encourage children to report abuse is a step in the right direction. Your web site is very informative and a good outlet for people to get things out in the open and off their chest. I grew up in the 1950's and at that time little was said about child abuse or endangerment. Physical and sexual abuse was never mentioned and no one seemed to discuss it at great length like it is done today. From 1950 until 1961 I was raised in a group foster home in the mid-west. Different boys and girls came and went over the years but there was generally between 15 and 20 kids most of the time. Some only spent a year or two there but others, like me, where there until 18 years old. This home was sanctioned by the state I presume, but it was operated by horrible people. There was a husband and wife who ran it but the husbands brother also supervised several days a week. Their method of control was out right intimidation. The location was fairly rural but well kept. We were well fed and clothed and went to decent schools. Each child was given certain chores to do according to their age and sex. The girls doing most of the inside work while the boys did the outside chores.

I am sure now that I became so accustom as to how things were done over a short time that I thought everyone lived the way we did. I don't think abuse, whether physical or sexual, was ever discussed among the children. When I was in my teen years, a few of the other girls and I did discuss what was done to us but never considered telling any outsiders about it. We never spoke or asked the boys what was done to them. We all knew about each other being spanked by them and most of the time witnessed it. The home mother was the worst offender when it came to physical abuse even though her husband and his brother did the same. It didn't matter who was present whether girl or boy and she would spank us in front of each other. The most horrible part of it was that she not only made the boys take their pants and underware down but also did it to the girls. I remember being so embarrassed by it knowing the boys could see me I would hid afterwards and not talk to anyone. I also felt sorry for the other boys and girls when they were treated the same way and humiliated the way I was. I was so indoctrinated by these people I doubt I recognized how I was physically and sexually abused until I left there and got a job. I probably needed some type of therapy by that time but in those days it was unspeakable and I never told anyone what I went through for many years.

All the boys slept on the third floor and all the girls on the second floor, girls weren't allowed on the third floor and the boys weren't allowed on the second floor. Most of the children had more respect for each others privacy than the people who operated it. I never saw the boys bathroom but the girls bathroom had two bathtubs, two toilets, and two sinks in it. In those days there were no showers and I probably didn't even know what a shower was. Not only the home mother but also the two men would frequently come in when the girls were bathing. It happened so often when I first went there I must have gotten used to it and wasn't as embarrassed about it as much as I should have been. I think myself and the other girls were so accustom to the intrusions we thought little about it after awhile. As I got older I could see how some of the newer and younger girls were mortified by their presance. The men usually came in at differnt times but mostly in the evenings. Under the guise of religion they came into the bathroom at times and lead us in prayer.

From the first month I got there up until a month before I went out on my own I was given a physical exam by one of those men every month as were all the other girls. I don't know if the same was done to the boys and we never spoke about it. The home mother never did it to us but I imagine she must have known what her husband and brother-in-law were doing. That is when the sexual abuse took place. We were individually taken into the back room and examined naked from head to foot. As embarrassing as it was I was so indoctrinated by them I doubt if I considered it abuse. I did dread it each time and it did become more humiliating in my teen years but it became more like a monthly chore. I don't think I even realized these men were pedophiles until I was about 20 years old. It still disturbs me thinking about some of the things these men did to me and the other girls in the ways they examined us. I was fairly well educated but back then it was something nobody wanted to or were afraid to talk about. The ways we were disciplined made us too fearful to disobey them. I was very seldom spanked as I got older only because I always did what I was told and always did well in school. Even when I was older I witnessed the other boys and girls being spanked with their underware down or off. The humiliation of being spanked like that in front of the other children was cruel.

My husband and a few close friends are the only people I ever told about this. They find it hard to believe but during the 1950's things were much different than today. I don't know first hand how other foster homes were run in those years but think many may have been as bad as the one I was in. My husband thinks many kids were treated badly like I was simply because it was never brought out in the open as it is today. It thrills me when I see some of these child abusers or the men distributing child porn sent to jail for a long time. Back when I was growing up woman were more passive about things that were going on and tolerated what some men were doing to kids. That home mother had to know what her husband was doing which made her as bad as he and his brother were. My husband has asked me if I ever confronted them as I got older but I try to explain how intimadated I was of them. I was always afraid to, knowing if I did, I would get a beating for it and embarrassed in front of the other children. Darlene, you should be very proud of what you are doing and God bless you.




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Child Abuse Story From Elizabeth K

by Elizabeth
(New Mexico)

My parents are divorced the reason, abuse.My father didn't just abuse me and my brother ,but my mom too. I got away from the abuse as well as my mom and brother did too. It's been a long time since I have seen my father. The bruises ,the blood, the screaming ,and torture it was all so painful. Getting abused is not fun nor something to brag about it is actually a common way for many deaths. I feel so lucky that i was one of the fortunate kids who made it through the torture ,and i have a stepfather my same amazing mother ,and my loving big brother. I live freely and enjoy every second of it local domestic violence centers help citizens in need . They helped me they will help you too.




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Child Abuse Story From Chelsea1

by Chelsea
(Alberta, Canada)

This is hard to say. But i jut need to tell someone my story. Im a 15 year old girl who was abused by my mother. It doesnt feel right to call her that so im going to name her Lee (Not her real name.) I dont remember being abused by her much, i only get flash backs. I have an older brother who is 7 years older than me and got the majority of the abuse. I rememeber having to take showers with Lee till i was the age of 12. I always wanted to wear a bathing suit but she wouldnt ever let me. She would sometimes come into my room after fighting with my father and lay in bed with me. She would spoon me and touch me like a boyfriend would. When i think about that, i am just appauled that she would do that but at the time i thought that was normal. I still kind of do. She would always buy me stuff so i wouldnt tell anyone what she was doing. In grade 5, she was starting to stop touching me. I thought that meant she didnt love me anymore. So i started to go into her room and sleep in her bed and ask if we could spoon. Some people think that im just sick for doing that but its the way i was raised on showing love. When i was about 5 or 6, my broter went to the cops to tell them what Lee was dong to us. Im not sure the full story of what happened but they didnt believe him. Lee has a way of manupulating people into believing her. I heard that 90% of children abused, will abuse their children. I love children with all my heart and i totally want to become a mother but im scared i will hurt them. When i was 13, i touched someone inapropritly. I dont want to turn out like my mother... How do i not become like her? Whenever i see the news and it talks about child molesters and children sexually abused, i dont care. I think its normal and i just dont understand the big deal about it... I wonder if im just some sick peverted child.




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Child Abuse Story From Jessica

by Jessica
(Canada)

for as long as i could remember me and my three younger sisters would go to my gramas for the night to give my mom a break. grama and her boyfriend drank alot and she usually fell asleep quite early. he had a hand painted portrait of me above the mantel and would tell everyone this is my little jessie. i think i was 4 the first time i remember he said he wanted to make sure i made it to the bathroom so he got me out of bed and took me to the den or the living room and he would kiss me. next time he would show me him self and ask to see me, when i hesitated he always said "good girls always do as they are told. i love you don't you love me? you are special." he would kiss my chest and underware then take all my clothes. he always told everyone how beautiful i was and what a good girl i was. he said " we don't want the other girls to be jelous so we will keep this our special secret". i lost my virginity when i was six. i thought i was so lucky even thought i cried and bled so much he was so happy i wanted him to be proud of me soooo bad. i needed his aprooval. i was 12 before i realized that other children didn't have sex with men. from 12 on i hated him but i still couldn't say no. when i was 14 he told me it was over between ushe no longer found me atractive. he wanted my little sister who was 6 at the time. i washeart broken and furious i prayed and prayed for god to take us away. but he did better he died when i was 14 2 weeks after he ended our relationship (reading this over i donot know what else to call it but RELATIONSHIP) he never got near my sisters and i thank god everyday for taking him away from here. after he died i told my mother and she said "i would never let anything like that happen to you." she just repeated that till i dropped it and no one has ever said anything since. now i am 24 years old my 2 year old daughters father is an insetuous pediphile she has never met him. i never knew till she was born. and i feel terrible but i guess those are the men i attract.




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 Codi J

by Codi J
(USA)

i live with my dad,mom and my twin brother(but im a girl, 12 yrs old). my mom is always gone,and my dad is always drunk. he hits us,alot. he'll punch and kcik us,or he ties us down and beats us. he'll hit us for anything he can think of.i remember when i was 8,and i failed a test,i was so afraid becuase my father would beat me,we knew that anything under a high B meant we got ties down and 45 lashes,then my twin brother did something amazing,he changed the names on the paper,my dad beat him for my bad grade,i felt aweful,so i talked back to my dad,i knew it was stupid,but i was so guilty,my dad put duct tape over my mouth and beat me untill my back was bleeding.he said "noone remove the tape,theis stupid bitch deserves it" but,i felt better,my brother tries to protect me,but,he cant always.My dad sometimes comes into my room,he takes my clothes off and tells me im pretty and special,but i dont feel pretty and special,i feel used and dirty,i tried to get him off one time,he smashed my head againt the bedboard untill i passed out.my dad makes us wear out hair long,with bangs so we can hide the bruises. im pretty sure our teachers are getting suspicious,the principal alway call us in he office,he asks if we are ok,and we always say yes,once he pointed out my bruised eye,i just said i fell off a tree,he just nodded,and said we could go get lunch,we said we couldnt,which made him sit up a bit straigter,he asked why,instead of telling him the truth,we just said we had no munny, he walk down to the cafeteria with us,and bought us lunch.we knew we shouldve but,it was so tempting and ere hungry,so we did,later,we just barfed it out and cleaned our mouths out real good,certain our dad would smell the food,he doesnt like us eating,he says will git fat.we run away all the time,well go tot he school and sleep b4 anyone gets there,or we'll go to a church.our dad says god is just a lie,but teh preacher invites us to join them in cook-outs or other activies,maybe we'll get help soon,we really dont know where to go,but it shuld probly be somewhere safe,the most recen things on us,is my bruised ribs,and the word "fag" my dad burned into my brothers skin for crying,and "slut" on me,becuase,well,i dont know. i guess he felt like it?
so thats our story i guess.sory if its long,i just needed to vent i gess.wel,bless u all(thatswat the preacheer say all the time) i guess its good,so,bless u




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Child Abuse Story From Tara F

by Tara F
(Pennsylvania, USA)

My life story about being sexually and physically abused: 
I have been in my mothers home and have been sexually abused and it was my mothers boyfriend and he started it when i was thirteen years old and he got me pregnant at the age of 14 in a half and then i had the baby when i was fifteen years of age and it was a scary site to be in it really is its not a fun thing to be involved in because then it gives you flash backs when you get older and you get night mares from it and if there is anybody else out there that got abused by there mom or there boyfriend or even your moms best friend or anyone else the best thing to do is to get help don't hurt yourself you the victim there in the wrong not you there the dumb ones they knew better you didn't. so if r or u have been in this perdicterment get help do not do anything stupid.




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 Marie

by Marie
(California, USA)

My story doesn't count as child abuse, I don't think so though. I was molested by my cousin when I was 14. He was 21. No contact happened specifically, but he would tell me that he wanted to have sex with me and that he loved me and wanted to marry me and start a family with me. There was one night that we almost kissed. We were in his car and he said he wanted to make out with me. Some other stuff happened but in end, we didn't kiss. He liked to hold my hand-like boyfriends and girlfriends do-and once, he put his hand on my thigh, but I just pushed it off and he laughed. The most he touched me was at my grandmas house. I was laying on the bed, stomach down, and he came and got on top of me. I shrugged to get him off and started to call for my grandma but he put his hand over my mouth. We stayed like that for a few seconds then he got off and I got out of there as fast as I could. I don't know what this means. I know it's molestation but I'm confused on the fact if this is considered sexual abuse and/or incest. I don't know.




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 Alexandra A

by Alexandra A
(Ohio, USA)

I do not remember when the abuse started. I was molested by my older cousin when I was around 1-3 years old. I didn't tell anyone because all of the grown ups were all either high or drunk. I used to get beat by my mom and older brother. I knew at a young age that no one loved me except my grandfather. Once he died I had no one. My mom and brother and I moved a lot, to shelters or my mom's friends. I remember living at this one lady's house and a friend of hers and her son moved in. That was the worse possible thing that could have happened yeah my mom hit me and burned me but the rape was the worse. He would rape me every night from about 1st to 3rd or 4th grade. He was raping my cousin too. After that my mom decided to move to another shelter and sometimes you would share a room with another family. Well this one boy would make me show him my parts and just weird stuff. A few months later I told my mom and we got a new room. More people moved in and the boy told them i was a hoe. So all of them would get together and we would play "cops" they would hold me against the wall and touch me. I have never told anyone about that until now.... Well at this time my mom started getting into more drugs so we moved again. we moved to indiana i was in 4th grade. She got me addicted to weed, cigs, and coke and would make me blow old men just so she could have some money. they would take photos of me and... yeah well about 4 years ago (i was 13) my mom left me and my brother. Im 16 now and i got adopted when i was 15 life is ok. i haven't talked to my mom in 4 years and that may be a good thing. but yeah there is more to the story but i am at school and i don't have a lot of time.




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Child Abuse Story From Riley

by Riley
(California, USA)

My parents were high school sweethearts. My mom dropped out of school when she was sixteen and got pregnant with me. She left my dad when I was three to marry a man who already had five children of his own.

From the age of three on, I was constantly abused both physically and emotionally. One of my older stepbrother loved to pick on me. He kicked me and hit me daily, and when I told my mom, she got angry at me. She never helped me. Not even when her new husband banged my head against the wall or chocked me until I passed out. I felt unloved.

My mother also told me my dad didn't want me. That was a lie. She had left him and never told him where we were. She never made me feel wanted or secure.

My two older stepsistesr treated me as if I were their doll. They would dress me up and brush me hair as if I were a barbie doll, but when I didn't want to play anymore, they pulled at my hair, or pinched me and made me cry. They broke things and told my mom I had done it. The only one who was nice to me was my oldest stepbrother, N.

When I was twelve, my second oldest stepbrother started molesting me. It began with touching, and ended up in rape. He came into my room in the middle of the night. He said he would kill me if I told anyone. He said nobody would believe me. And I knew he was right. My mom certainly didn't care, and my stepfather hated me already.

I tried to kill myself when I was fourteen and ended up being hospitalized. At the hospital, they also found out I had hepathitis. My stepfather instantly accused me of being a whore and a slut and wanted to throw me out of the house. So my mom called my paternal grandmother who took me in. My father moved in with her, too. He and my grandmother are really nice people. They take good care of me and make sure I go to school and have good grades and stuff like that. But they also expect me to happy. And I can't. I feel I have to be happy, and being sad all the time made me feel guilty. I don't know what to do. I do things I know I'm not supposed to do, like scratching myself, or hitting my head against the wall. I just don't know how I feel. How to describe what's inside of 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 Ebony

by Ebony
(Missouri, USA)

As a child I hung out over my Godmother's house. She had a husband who was like a father to me he was someone I looked up to. Well one night while staying up early I heard him come out of the bathroom and then he came to the family room where i was watching t.v. There he was standing in the doorway he looked himself but when i looked into his eyes it was like he was a different person. I spoke and asked me to come to him and i did not know what he was going to do next. He grabbed me and put my back to his front and slowly he moved his hands up and down my then developing breast and down my stomach and back up again. In that moment I felt alone and I knew if I went and told my godmother what he did it would break her heart. Though that night wasn't the first time he did that to me i felt that if i kept my mouth shut that no one would be hurt. But i realise now that someone would be hurt, that someone was me. For a couple of months i didn't go over there and then my godmother started asking questions about why i haven't been coming over. So yet again i went over there and once again he came to me and this time when i left i didn't go over there for about a year. Well i started a new middle school and i began to miss my godmother and everything so i went back over thinking that maybe he had changed. you see he had a daughter too but she is older than me. I thought with her being there this time he wouldn't touch me, but yet again i was wrong he hadn't changed and he didn't care that his daughter was downstairs in her room asleep. He never raped me and he never was able to feel on my private area, but he did do messec me up for awhile. Finally I told my counselor what he did to me and I tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal but deep down inside i knew and she knew as well. Long story short my counselor told my mom and then my mom told my godmother and from there it took about two years before it got investigated and just bringing back up after i thought that i was over it but i wasnt and started to mess with my grades and my attendance went down. The case never went too far because of lack of evidence and that also killed me inside. But anyway I ended up having falling deep into depression and it affected my education so bad that my school recommended me to go get my GED. I will say this that my school did their best to keep me in they even had me put on depression pills. I guess that one day my story will help somebody see that it is not healthy to keep your feelings to yourself when u know it is best for u to let them out. im still getting over it but everyday im growing i believe that it will get better.




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 Alyssa E

by Alyssa
(Ohio, USA)

I was a victim of child abuse along with my little sister, and older cousin. We were beat from the time we were three we are all minors. The little things used to get us beat like if we would go and ask for a drink. It almost killed us a couple times. It lightened up over the years though. My mom, two sisters and I moved away from my aunt my cousin is still with her. I know she hits him some but not as often. My family is doing better now. My sister and I try to stay out of the house as much as possible so history doesn't repeat it's self. We have a other sister and she gets yelled at but I have only seen my mom hit her twice so I guess things are better. Thanks for reading!!!




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Child Abuse Story From William

by William
(Auburn, Indiana, USA)

I was born into a world of Hell on 12-10-1983 at 1:15pm in Michigan. My Biological father was sent to Prison ten days before I was born. So the Alalfa wanna-be that my biological mother was married to sign my Birth Certificate. Not even a day old and I already got two fathers. A short time later my biological mother got married to stepfather #1. I suffered Physical, Emotional, Sexual Abuse, and Neglect until I was eight years old. Thanks to the abuse in the home and being allowed to watch horror movies, the children of the Township were terrorized by me. I routinely beat the snot out of them, chased them with all kinds of potentially dangerous items, including a gas powered chainsaw. When I wasn't doing that I was searching for dead animals to dismember and bury. I attempted to shoot my biological mother when I was six years old with a Marlin Model-60 22lr rifle.

I thought the abuse was over but I was very wrong. In comes stepfather #2 who my biological mother was married to until I was 13 years old. At least there wasn't any Sexual Abuse and rarely Physical Abuse, but did he ever pound me with Emotional Abuse. Every day I got reemed out about something and grounded to my room where I was only allowed out to attend school which sucked, use the restroom, and to eat. That went on for five years. As soon as I was ungrounded he'd find some reason to ground me again. Thanks to the clothes I was made to wear, I got bullied big time. If I fought back, I'd get it even worse when he found out. Any pet I got he killed usually with poison. They finally divorced and I was blamed for it which I could care less.

Shortly after #2 was out of the picure in came stepfather #3. They were together for a total of nine months. At this point I was conditioned to being alone and kept myself locked in my bedroom, only coming out when necessary. From this point on it was mainly Negect, which also included Medical Neglect. They forced me to attend school with one measly outfit because they were too cheap to buy me any clothes.

Before my biological mother was even divorced from #3 she already had stepfather #4 lined up. Again, same Bull**** as before. At least this marriage lasted until 2009 after #4 died from drinking himself to death for ten years. Back in 2002 I said enough is enough. My biological physically assaulted me and I fractured her nose. Yes, I was arrested for it which I don't understand why. She started it and I only used the necessary amount forced to get her to back off. It's not my fault she got the short end of the stick that time.

I finally got out of that Hell Hole on 10-03-05 when I moved into my own apartment. Before that I filled out as many as 24 apartment applications before being approved. I was getting to the point where I was going to turn Homicidal and Suicidal in 2005. If I was going I was taking every person responsible for any abuse with me, and that's a long list.

Once moved in I started getting mental health services from the Northeastern Center here in Auburn, IN. Everything was going fairly good as far as I thought. The "Professionals" assigned to my treatment plan which include a case manager, therapist, case facilitator, and shrink decided to have me locked up in the Looney-Bin on 02-04-10. I went in the day before extremely depressed and feeling suicidal. My case facilitator to me to simply go home despite me asking if I should go to their Looney-Bin for a few days. Daily Med Drops were set up I thought. That morning nobody from the NEC showed up with my dose of meds, so I called to see what's up. The Staff at the NEC simply told me they weren't bringing my meds to me. I told them I was be there in the morning to get them back. A couple of hours later every Sheriff's Deputy on duty showed up to take me to the Looney-Bin. I was released six days later. It wasn't the fact that I was locked up in the Looney-Bin but the way those four "Professionals" went about it. If they felt I was such a threat then they should have locked me up the day I asked. There was more than a 24-hour period where I could have commited suicide.

After I was released I told them I was going to file a Law Suit for Malpractice and Emotional Distress. That was for them not taking my welfare seriously and for encouraging me to become Emotionally attached to them. They quickly gave me the boot and hired an Attorney to obtain Restraining Orders against me. Several clients have left the NEC due to their actions. I still have plenty of time to file the Law Suit and when I find an Attorney I'm going to wipe the floor with them.

I'm now getting services at in Fort Wayne, IN. They're in shock from the NEC's actions too.

After several Suicide Attempts I've given up. I've tried Drowning myself which was nearly successful. I've tried hanging myself. I've tried overdosing several times too and came close there too.

My dark nature has been reborn. I know that people aren't Natural Born Killers, they're made from the way they're raised. No, I have no plans of killing anybody but that doesn't mean I'm not above it. I only would if I felt it was necessary.




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 Michelle

by Michelle
(Location Undisclosed)

I am not ready to share my story, but i was wondering if there's anyone out there who after being sexual abused by their father now has a relationship with their father and has been able to deal with their past; is this possible? I haven't talked to my dad in months, and i really miss him, but whenever i see him after i have panic attacks and can't stop thinking about suicide. I want to get over my past, deal with it and have a healthy happy life and be able to still have a relationship with my dad, but i don't know how. I've tried counseling, self help books, medication, talking to good trustworthy friends but i still feel so lost.




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 Tashika

by Tashika
(New York, USA)

Hurt by n3na: 
Im 15 years old i have a hard life story to tell i was 5 years old when my father left me and moved out i cryed for him not to live me alone as i lay on the floor nd cryed he walked out the door nd didnt even say bye so i went to school the next day my mom got a new boyfriend he moved in i didnt like him when him and my mom aruged he would hit her nd i would cry and try to stop it and he hit me as me and my mom foguht for our lives he just wacthed the tears fall from our eyes so my mom got tired of it as i grow he keep doing it i finnaly spoke up i told some one they helped me my mom still with that guy and she kicked me out so now i live with my aunt i getting help my mom still avoding me and whens she calls she sounds happy and dont even care so as i lay down cry and call her and say i miss her she just dont say nothing but i guess smilie so my life is just full of crap and some times i cant stand it




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Child Abuse Story From Jane

by Jane
(San Diego, California, USA)

when i was about 6 a guy a year or two older than me began to sexualy abuse me. We use to watch movies with our parents, people in the movies would kiss and fall in love. After, he would bring me into my bed room; my parents probably thought we were just playing some stupid little kid game. He would kiss me and touch me instead. I knew it wasn't right, but he would tell me it was okay because we just saw it in the movies. Grown ups did it all the time and they never got into any trouble. This contiunued until i was 12 when i got a big crush on another guy. My abuser wasn't happy when i told him we had to stop, but i only saw him twice a year for about a week at a time. After i told him we needed to stop, he went back home and by the next visit i'm pretty sure we only kissed a few times and then by the visit after that everything just stopped. I never told anyone becuase i knew he'd get into trouble and i thought i was part to blame. I could have been stronger and said no but i didn't. After that I just pushed it so far back in my mind that i never thought of it again... now i'm 17 and i have no idea why it's all comming back. I never thought once that i had really been molested... its been a real shock recently and i don't know what i should do. i can't tell my parents, and it happened so long ago that it almost seems pointless to be brnging it back up again but at the same time i think it's the reason why i don't get horny, why i can't hold down a boyfriend and why i'm basically emotionally handicapped.




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 Steph

by Steph
(Location Undisclosed)

Where to start... When I was around 5 everything changed. We used to be a happy family. We cuddled and all that until my mum died from cancer. That's when dad got nasty. He would hit me for knocking over a cup or tripping up. When we where out he was friendly but usually he would be horrible at home.

When I was ten, I started to develop more and he would just touch me inapproprietly. I remember one night I went to bed early to avoid more pain when he slipped into my bed saying he was lonley. I thought he had forgiven me and we where back to normal. But we wherent. He called in my brother and he came in. Then he undressed us and told T (my brother) to stroke his 'snake'. Things then got worse. He made me and my brother have sex while he would rub his penis. It hurt a bit. I felt horrible and dirty. If I did something 'wrong' he would smack my bottom then rape me himself.

The bad thing was that T enjoyed it and he would rape me when we where alone. It felt horrible. Luckily I found this site and called Childline. They helped me and I called the police. My dad was arrested and me and T where taken into care.

I can't thank you enough... 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 JayLeigh

by JayLeigh
(Location Unknown)

A note to the people who have hurt me: 
Starting with the parents. i don't think it could be anymore obvious that you only TRY to love me. I don't think you really do. i think that after you saw that I wasn't the perfect daughter you expected, or the little sister, that follows in her big sisters footsteps, you just gave up on me. your the two people who were never ment to give up on me. And it turns out, you were the two first people to give up on me. Moms aren't ment to treat you like your a 5 year old piece of s**t that knows nothing, and when you do one little thing wrong, s**ts gonna hit the fan. And then when you turn your whole f***ing life around. She wont notice anything, any change. And dad, I don't think it's normal that you decide to hit me and hurt me when I do one little thing wrong. You hit me, because I patted a dog. Does that only sound ridiculous to me? or does it sound normal to everyone else? Then you grab my arm, twist it round and drag me by the wrist outside, infront of a crowd. JUST because you said give me your iPod and I said, 'in a minute'. Also, stop acting like your this big tough guy. your weak on the inside and you don't love your own daughter. you don't treat her right. When I try and tell you guys that sometimes I feel like you don't love me, you send me to my room. you take away my stuff, and you ground me. that proves so f***ing much.

Next.

Dude, I changed my whole f***ing life for you. I was being a dick head, drinking, smoking, getting tattoos, hooking up with random guys. sleeping with girls. Then you guys all inspired me to change. And I did. And when I do, you don't f***ing notice. You actually don't notice anything. You didn't realise I came home crying? You didn't realise you found a f***ing knife in my bedroom, and you believed it was there because I was carving my drum sticks? You didn't realise I sat in my room for hours screaming and cutting? You didn't f***ing realise that he hurt me.

To you! F*** you. I went to that bathroom for what I was willing to give you. Then you tried to turn it into something more. and when I try and stop, you get aggressive and violent. Then the next day, you humiliate me, and tell everyone I came into the bathroom and offered what I gave! I tried to push you off. And you made me. That's what gave me the reputation of a sl*t. You told them I willingly came into the bathroom with you and decided to go further. But the truth is, you made me go further. And the outcome of that is I had to lie to the guy I love, and the teacher I adore. I had to lie because you made everyone think you were innocent. But I had to make myself sound innocent, just to get them to listen.

Your next, I've always tried to look up to you. I love you. Then you turn your whole life around and f***ing stab me in the back. You act like an innocent little b***h when your around them. Then when it's just you and me, you completely change. You bash me, you beat me up, and yes, I have scars on my f***ing body because of you. I have the nail and cut marks on my arm. I have to short cut on my leg where you fought me with scissors. and you've scarred me emotionally. You just...change. I loved you soo much. You were my role model. And then you go off smoking your f***ing lungs out. You come home smashed. You swear when they aren't there. You have sex frequently. And then I go to school, and I hear everywhere that you sleep around, your pregnant, your a wh**e. How do you think that makes me feel? We were so close. And now we barely say a word to each other. And back to the bashing, you came into my room when no one was home, you asked for the phone and I said I will be done in 5 minutes. And you decided to start punching me, everywhere, the stomach, the face, the arms, and you grabbed the scissors on my desk, and threatened me with them. You act like it never happened. But I'll always remember. And I'll always look down, and see them.

It's honestly sometimes hard to actually call you my family. You always talk about how home is where we all are together, under one roof. But most of the time, home is the place where I actually feel safe, comfortable and loved. When I'm under the same roof as you, I don't feel any of that. And I never actually want to be there. If you want to be one big happy family. Then get off your f***ing alcoholic, workaholic a**es, and start acting like 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 Jocelyn

by Jocelyn
(Location Undisclosed)

I was looking at some of these stories and i feel very bad for all of these people. I am a 12 year old girl that lives with my aunt and uncel becasue my mom couldn't take care of me. My mom has Bipoler Disorder and my dad is an alchoholic. When i was born, my mom got really sick and started to go "crazy" so she was locked in a mental institution for 6 months. during those 6 months, i lived with my aunt and uncel (and still do today). After the 6 months, my mother got out of the instituion and was aloud to come and see me. After about 3 years, i was forced to go on 3 day visets with my mom (Due to some stuff that happened in court that no one will tell me WHAT exactly happened) and it was terrible. Whenever she would have her "episodes" she would say really mean things like "I hate you" and things like that. By the age of 5, i got hit alot for little to no good reason. Alot of times, my mom thought it was fun and funny to hid me and call me names. She had made several bruises on my arms and legs. My dad never did anything to stop her. I later got into a day-care center (becasue when i was with my aunt and uncel, they both worked and didnt want to leave me with my mom all the time)and sometimes my mom would come and get me on the days i had to go with her. and i would often "Act out" and hit other kids that were makeing fun of me for stupid reasons (eye color, hair color, skin color, ect.) becasue of how angery i would get, i never made a mark on anyone. The teachers at the day-care would call mY MOM not my AUNT and my mom would act like everythingg was cool untill we got home. When we did get home, she would hit me, one time she kicked me. I would cry (she hit pretty hard) and she would say "Shut the ---- up before i give you a reason to cry!!!" and "If you think that hurt, just wait!!!". I remember one time i got in trouble at day-care (i dont remeber what for though) and they got my dad on the phone. He said if i didnt get my s--- together, he was going to kill me. I was crying at this point (i was still 5, and you know how that works...) and the teachers herd this and didnt do anything. My mom has also sayed things like "Im going to kill you!" and "im going to shoot you in the f------ head if you dont stop crying" and things like that. One day, me and my other 2 cousins (same age, 5) were sitting in my grandmothers living room and i saw my one cousin walk into the kitchen to get a cup of water and i fallowed. Well, my moms sister came thru the front door a few mins after and she was drunk. She walked into the kitchen and seen me and my cousin and took off her belt and started beating me with it so hard that i had these welts,bruised, and red marks on my arms, legs, and neck. later that day when my mom came in, she saw but didnt care and didnt even ask about it. Later on, i guess my moms sister told my mom about it and they were both laughing like to was a joke. Then my moms sister threw this plactic toy (i dont remember what it was, but i do know it hurt) and it hit me in the face and got a bloody lip from it and my mom and her sister and my cousins just laughed. The next day i whent back to my aunts house crying and my aunt saw the belt markings and started to flip out. She called the cops on my moms sister. 3 days later i whent back with me mom over at my granmothers and my moms sister, my mom and my cousins where there. They were just glairing at me so i when into the back porch. My other cousin (male) came up and punched me in the face causeing my lip to start bleeding (again) and he said "Stupid!! you got my mom in trouble!" and i whent in the room with my mom and her sister and i was crying. My mom hit me and told me to toughen up and ignored my bloody lip. I herd my mom call my aunt a b--- and i didnt say anything even thou i really wanted to say "dont say that...its not true she isnt!!!" but i knew what would happen if i did. But that put an end to the visets and overnight stays with my mom becasue my aunt whent to court. Now, i live with my aunt permently and my mom is on this medication and she doesnt hit, or curse anymore. Shes like a completely different person. Before this though, i have gotten beaten up by my cousins alot (older then me) and i have the scars to prove it. Me and my mom get along now and me and my dad started talking and he stopped drinking. Everything is good, but now my aunt and uncel arnt exactly being the nicest people, we get into fights and what not now and my aunt got so mad at me she once said "Do you want me to make up stop breatheing" and my Uncel has said "and you thought your mom was bad, pft. just wait till i get ahold of ya!" but for the moment, were getting along. My aunt and uncels kids (in there 20s and 30s) say some really mean things for no aparent reason like "Would you just shut up and go bad to watching your f'in anime" and "Are you f'in retared" and stuff like that. Things arnt all that good inschool. this year i had a teacher that hated me, she would perpusly drop my grades and sayed stuff to make me look stupid. And let me tell ya, the kids werent any better. I blame myself for alot of it though becasue if i wasnt born, then my mom wouldnt have been so crazy and i wouldnt be a problem to my family. I try to stay as happy as possible but i regret life. I truly do. I would never kill myself but the thought has accured.




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 Jacquya

by Jacquya
(Washington, DC, USA)

Ever since i was 1 year old up to 9 i was molested beaten starved hit with brushes combs wood rulers toys sissors books paddles anything.you would never think who did this my granparents did yes my dads parent one time my grandmother had me five years old and my three year old sister my grandmother said she was going take us to get ice cream then to the movies my grandparents wanted us to die so she faked like she was sleep but she was not she kept her foot on the gas and did not drive so i took her foot off the gas and turned the car in the grass .my grandmother tried to suffacate me because i would not be quiet and i was locked in my room because the lock is outside and every time i got a b day present she took it from me cause she said i did not deserve those toys and she brainwashed me and she scrubbed me so hard my stuff was red and swollen and everytime id go back home my stomach would hurt and i would have brusies and cut marks and fractured wrists any little thing one time she put something in my sisters food and tried to make her eat it i trough it away when my grandmother was not looking .oh she also grabbed me by my shirt and tell me shut up and shed curse at me when nobody was their and i was pushed and throw down stairs and she cut my eyebrow because of her now i have autism asperengers adhd and post tramtic stress disorder and some more disorders that do with your brain my dad and brothers and sisters were treated like this too and they give me money and come down my fathers job but i can not go down there because if my grandparents come down their i might hurt them the way they did me throw me around




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Child Abuse Story from Amanda J

by Amanda J
(Victoria, Australia)

We're victims, it's not our fault!

We're victims, it's not our fault!

As a child, I was very loud and sociable and always making everyone laugh. Behind closed doors though it was a different story. My father beat me. Repeatedly and it hurt...a lot. What made it a whole lot worse is that my mother would stand in the door way and watch. While the pain seared through me like a steel rod and i recoiled as each blow came, I could see her standing there watching this happen.

Can you imagine what must have been going through a 4 year olds head while this happened? I thought I deserved it. I thought I had done something wrong all the time to provoke him.

You might think it would have been easy to do something about it but put yourself in my shoes. Your 4, tiny and helpless, thin and under 1m tall. Your mum is just over 5" and your dad is this big built man who is half an inch under 6". He has a deep voice that rumbles like thunder and a short temper fuse.

One night, mum called the police after he had beaten me back blue and shoved her a few times. The violence didn't stop for me even after that. I was still the victim of emotional and sometimes physical abuse up until I was about 8.

I'm now 14, suffer from depression, anorexia, anxiety and am a commited self-harmer in recovery. I still haven't forgiven them for what they let happen to me, I don't think I ever fully will.

To those of you out there that are being abused, it's not your fault! You're the victims. Seek help from someone whether it's the police, neighbour or some other trusted adult. If you know someone is being abused, help 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 Josie

by Josie
(Scotland)

All the signs were there, but I was too gullible and naive to believe it was true: 
It started when i was about 14 i had just made a new friend ky and i was always around at her house having dinner and sleeping over soon we were inseperable, her mum and step dad were lovely, but one day things got a bit strange her step dad would kiss me goodbye on the lips when i went home as he would drop me off home after being at ky's house the weird thing was he would do it infront of ky and her mum so i thought it must just be normal? he would take me and ky on days out to fairs and parks whilst ky's mum was in work, one day i remember him taking us to a park with a lake next to it and we all had brought towels and fresh clothes after we'd jumped in the lake he told us to get changed in the back of his car whilst he sat there in the seat, all of our other friends didnt find it weird so i carried on as normal, he would give us beer and weed and ciggarettes and watched us get drunk and take pictures of us for our website we had, he also was a computer freak and all the computers in his house were linked up, he would watch what ky wrote on her computer upstairs and if she was talkin to a boy he would turn her computer off, i was getting changed once upstairs in ky's room and i walked downstairs and ky's webcam was on her dads computer i made a joke sayin have you been watching me and he got quite angry, he would also make me and ky wear shorts underneath out skirts when we went out and he would touch my bum in an inaproriate way, then one day i had stayed over at ky's home and the police where there and her dad was packing up all his stuff, when they went her mum told us he had sex with an under 16 and wasnt allowed near children under the age of 16 and he'd hid this for so many years! i was so stupid to have let this happen to me all the signs were there! anyway social services came round my house the next day and asked me had he ever done anything to me, i denied it i didnt want to pull apart a family ky was my best friend and her and her mum knew what he was like but chose not to beleive it, i feel guilty in case he tries to do it to any other children, but the police had enough evidence to put him away but they didnt so i guess it wouldnt be entirley my fault i just feel so stupid! i just thought he was a really friendly guy! oviousley not.




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 Henry C

by Henry C
(Manchester, Connecticut, USA)

ME

ME

Some Days are Hard: 
Well at 57 I'm still alive and thankful for all the lord has given me each day. as i write the tears roll down my cheeks and my head feels much to swelled for words of a meaning - any meaning that could tell you folks how its been with no family all my life . Incest is terrible - yet dyeing from it is worst.i have always wished that it had never happened medicating myself and being affraid to show my true feeling of pain and abuse that occurred in my adoped family long ago. As the years have gone on the only thing that bothers me about it is that they got away with it, thats like aman feeling sorry for himself that never wants to ammitt things of what happened to him-growing up has made the outcome of where he is today. yet when my parents
dyed my brother had the gaul to ask if i had wanted to come back to the family that i had left when i was fifteen years old. I told him no and hung up. I could go on and on about life and the abuse i took from my family but it was so long ago that even if i brought a civil case agaisnt him they would say that memory would be in question . the real kicker is that after it occurred i sought help by seeing a phychiastis at thirteen and stiil see one. I use to be on medication yet now i know longer am. i have found that art and writing make me feel beeter about myself as a human being.




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 Henry C Part 2

by Henry C
(Manchester, Connecticut, USA)

A lost life and reality now: 
Sexual abuse is wrong,it is shamful and does great harm not only to the victem but to the entire family as well.Growing up is hard enough to do without haveing one of your family members pushing themselves on you while taking advantage of your youth and innocence as was in my life when I was twelve years old.Trust that all powerful word was made a mockery of by my adopted brother, cousin and their gay friends, while my straight friends looked at me and my family as some kind warped family.I grew up being ashamed of what had happened to me in my parents house in longisland newyork,for many years I struggled trying to make my parents listen to what had occurred between my brother ,cousin and my brothers friends. It was heartbreaking to me when i had told my girlfriends mother of what had happened in my house.
Drugs being bought into the house by my brother and friends led me to wanting to try to save him from his behaviors which my parents just refused to disscuss or aknoledge and so for a while I subcumed to there behaviors becoming ever more crazy in my own behaviors. I began drinking and useing drugs to cover up the pain i fealt and finnally joined the military at seventeen to leave the family.After my time in the service I returned periodically to visit and many years later as my father retired from the post office
I finnally realized that my brothers invasion into my inncence of life was there to stay. I was in thearapy for many years knowing that at a yough age i had become a victem of sexual abuse.




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 E Part 1

by E
(Location Undisclosed)

My sister's early years were good. She lived with our mother and maternal grandparents. Her father had left when she was very little, after my mother found out he was having an affair. My mother was in school much of the time, working toward a degree, so her parents were T's main caregivers.

When T was maybe 4 or 5 our grandparents were looking for a church to attend. They decided not to attend one of the churches they considered because they had met a man very active in the church whom they found very disturbing and creepy. The following week my mother attended a service there and was (as she remembers it) immediately attracted to this very individual.

They married a few months before T turned seven. She did not want them to marry. He was always very nice to her, but she didn't trust him and was sure he would change as soon as they were married. She was wrong. His kindness continued until the end of their honeymoon.

My parents insisted that T immediately begin calling her new stepfather "Father" or "Daddy". (Not "Dad"; that was disrespectful.) She was to address them as "sir" and "ma'am". They spent much of their time at home locked in their room, and bought T a little step-stool so she could get her own meals. When they did emerge from the room, my father was often clad in his boxers and cupping himself (even when T had friends over).

I was the result of my parents' constant seclusion, born ten months after their wedding. My sister V came a year and eight months later, and my brother J three years after that. In between V and J my mother had a miscarriage.

I think that my father very badly wanted a boy. When I was little, before my brother was born, he would often do "boyish" activities with me, teaching me about tools, building little things, letting me help him work on the lawnmower. This changed quickly after my brother was born. The effect of this was that as a toddler I divided our family into me and my father, and my mother and sisters; and that I spent the next few years desperately wishing I was a boy (and dressing like one). I have had sexual feelings for girls since I was fourteen, although I do not know if this had the same cause.

My father has always been interested in punishment. He talked about it frequently when we were little, describing in detail his childhood memories as our bedtime stories. He joked about spanking us, threatened to spank us, and often did it. He was rarely involved in our day-to-day care, but as soon as one of us was in trouble, he was standing there behind my mother with his eyes bulging and his temple pounding, terrifying us into silence and compliance. My earliest memories of him are on the whole unpleasant. At probably a year or two, I was wondering whether adults could feel pain and, still being little enough that I was sure how to ask and didn't think logically enough to know it would be a problem, decided to find out by biting my father's back. He hit me very hard, and wouldn't stop to listen to my probably poorly articulated explanation. T saw this, and tried to stop him, and he dragged her to the other end of the house and started hitting her instead. He frequently overreacted like this, and seemed to take any excuse to hit us.

Before I was out of a crib, I was being turned on by the sight of my baby doll's pink bottom, the only part of her that hadn't faded to white.

V probably suffered the worst from my father's anger and harshness. In her first years of school she would barely speak to anyone; my parents actually started her a year later than they had intended because of her incredible shyness. I had my own difficulties in school. My first grade class was noisy, and my teacher sometimes raised her voice, which always sent me into terrified sobbing. My mother was no help. She would often threaten us with what would happen when our father got home or demand that we go tell him whatever small crime we had just committed.

For remainder of E's child abuse story see Part 2




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 E Part 2

by E
(Location Undisclosed)

Continued from Part 1: 
Their treatment of T, though, was the worst. Their rules were unreasonable, and even asking for an explanation was seen as unpardonable disrespect. They seemed to go out of their way to make things difficult for her. Once they sat her down at the table with an entire bowl of Brussels sprouts, saying that it would build character. Every summer my mother's parents and her brother and his children when to Disney World. For two years T had been allowed to go with them, and they had invited her for a third year (to which our mother consented). A couple months before, though, my father brought the subject up with her in the car. The conversation, as she remembers it, went like this:

"Do you know that your cousins are going to Florida this summer?"

"Yeah, Grandma told me about it."

"You know you're not going, right?" (Stunned silence.)

"May I ask why?"

"No."

In 5th grade, T accidentally damaged one of her textbooks. My father insisted that she replace the book for the school. Since she did not have any money, he said that she would pay him and her mother back by doing chores. Each chore lasted a morning or an afternoon and paid 25 cents, meaning that the entire of her next summer vacation was spent paying for the book.

As she got older, the abuse got worse. She was expected to care for us on a regular basis. She was not allowed to go out in the afternoon or evening because she had to be home to do the dishes. They would make her refuse her friends' invitations if at all possible; throughout her teens her friends' parents would call and ask my mother directly to put her on the spot, something T always heard about later.

As she grew older, their struggles got worse. My father brought her into the basement and ordered my mother to beat her with a stick (which she did). She had to dig holes as tall as her and as wide as her arms could reach around. They bought a large number of cinder blocks for the sole purpose of forcing her to cart them around the lawn. Once she dropped one on her foot. My father shouted at her to keep going. She has back problems now, which her doctor says were probably caused by lifting too much weight in her youth.

She dropped out of school at 16 at my parents' suggestion; they told her she wasn't going anywhere anyway and might as well stay home and take care of the kids. Soon after she ran away. She wound up living with our mother's parents for a couple of years before moving in with her fiance at just past eighteen.

As we reached puberty, my father stopped hitting me and V, possibly realizing he'd gone too far with T. He still hit J, though, often with a ferocity that terrified us. He yelled about the most ridiculous things. He repeatedly made comments that made V uncomfortable with her weight. At times we have both had the horrible feeling he was looking at us sexually.

After T moved out, my mother began seeing a therapist for depression, which she'd struggled with since she was a teenager. She soon stopped her weekly appointments after starting to take an anti-depressant. It does not seem to have worked particularly well. She has been, as far as I can tell, almost constantly miserable for the past ten years. First it was her problems with T, then it was my father's parents' living with us, now it's my, V, and J's unsatisfactory qualities. She made it very clear throughout my teen years that we were the main problem in her life, that we were a major drain on her and my father's time and money, and that she thought us rude, lazy, and thankless. She constantly complained about how much we cost, how little we did around the house (V and I have done much more than she has for the past few years, and she proudly proclaims herself a homemaker), and how much work we created for her (outside of our own rooms, we were meticulously neat). One summer she called up her mother and sister to complain about us on an almost daily basis. Whenever we were off from school, she would disappear in the morning, leaving us each a long list of often pointless tasks to perform. Whenever she was upset with J, who was the one who much fought with her by this point, she would complain to my father, who would come out to scream and yell.

My mother remains completely dependent on my father. She will not make any decision without consulting him, and looks to him as sort of a saint. She has a very selective memory, and conveniently forgets anything she's done wrong, or anything that might displease my father. She told us for years what a horrible person T's father was, cheating on her and abandoning T, leaving out that she cheated first (with her sister's husband, no less) and that it was she that demanded he have no contact with T.

My father is extremely conceited. He and too many others think very highly of him. He wrote an entire book singing the praises of a man who resembled him mightily. This book also included detailed descriptions of children being physically punished, which finally brought me and V to the conclusion that he must really be sadistic.

I am 18. I am ridiculously shy. I have few friends and really only feel comfortable with my siblings. I have selfish and loveless desires for other girls, and am perverted. I am terrified of people older or larger than me, especially men. I desperately crave love and affection, but cannot express my feelings and often get angry with people if I start to care about them and try to stop them from liking me back. I have suffered from depression for the past year. I have been doing much better lately, but came close to suicide last fall. I am afraid to have children, because I'm not sure I could be a good mother. I do not know whether my sexual feelings could ever allow for a healthy romantic relationship. I am angry, and jealous of those with good families to the point of sickness. It has only lately really hit me that some people actually have the things I missed out on. I want to get on with my life but I don't know how.


See Part 1 of E's child abuse 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 Martin

by Martin
( United Kingdom)

I am now 50 years old and for years have been harbouring terrible things that happened to me in my childhood. I still have awful flashbacks and have been self harming for as many years as I can remember. My father did some terrible things to me which are far to distressing to write about on here. He was like a swinger and was sleeping around with everyone, friends, neighbours and relatives, but nobody ever told him to stop despite them all knowing it was going on. He has been dead for about 12 years now so he is well and truly out of my life.

I was also sexually abused by my mum and these couple of things that I will explain play on my mind everyday, the only way to stop them going around in my head is to self harm which I do by hitting myself with any implement that I can put my hand on, my body and is full of bruises and welts and I normally direct the blows to my genitals and backside.

I cannot recall a lot before I was 16 but my eldest sister who is ten years older than me and who was also abused by our father can recall things happening to me as well.

I joined the Royal Navy at just over 16 years of age to get away from my terrible home life but when I returned home for weekend leave between the ages of 16 and 21 my mum subjected me to physical examinations, she would make me stand naked in front of her while she checked my body over, she would pay particular attention to my privates and she would also tell me to turn around and touch my toes where she would part my buttocks and check inside there.

Another time was when I had a rash on my genitals and she again made me stand in front of her while she applied the cream, she took ages and was rubbing my penis, unfortunately I got aroused and even more distressing is that I had an orgasm. She would say your make your mum feel really good and happy. She did lots of other things to me and when I feel a bit better in myself I will write about them. Even at my age now I still cannot understand why I didn't stop her doing those things.

I got married at 21 and the abuse stopped there, however and despite being married for nearly thirty years it has ruined our relationship. My poor wife has gone through hell and has been abused by me through my actions and the actions of my parents.




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 Martin Part 2

by Martin
(Middlesex, United Kingdom)

I wrote a story a few months ago about my childhood and I did say to myself that I would write some more when I got around to it.
It did help me the first time of writing to get it off my chest even though it hurts to recall.
I am a 50 year old male and have tried to put things out of my mind for 30 or so years.
My marriage has suffered greatly even though I have been with her for 34 years.
As I said in my previous story I was abused by both my Mother and Father and lots of other people were as well.
They were both in to swinging and fetish activities and as a child I was surrounded by pornographic material around the house, not hidden but easily accessible to children’s prying eyes and hands.
I also used to see sex toys in a cupboard in the bathroom, at the time I didn’t have a clue what they were but of course later realised what they were.
I have so much to tell I could actually write a book but I will tell you of another incident that happened 31 years ago.

My wife, girlfriend at the time was visiting me from near Portsmouth I was living in Middlesex at the time.
She was just 16 and I was about 19. In those days it was frowned upon to let your children sleep with their boyfriends or girlfriend