Child Abuse Story From
Jodie

Child Abuse Story: www.child-abuse-effects.com

This child abuse story from Jodie was created October 6, 2006 and was originally posted on September 19, 2006 as story #36.

Jodie is from Bradford, England, United Kingdom

The following child abuse story from Jodie depicts sexual abuse and emotional abuse.

Jodie didn't share her child abuse effects, though at 15 years of age, she has somewhat of a parental role with her younger siblings; she feels responsible for her brothers.


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Child Abuse Story From Jodie:

Ever since I could remember I didn't have a normal childhood. Up until I was 8 I lived with my mother and my 2 brothers. I was the only girl. I always dreamt of having a little sister, but now [that] I've lived my childhood, I wouldn't recommend for any poor innocent child to live that sort of lifestyle.

I used to go stay with my dad on weekends. Me and my brothers had different dads from each other. I guess I was lucky, I was the only one who still had contact with my dad. My brothers didn't even know who their fathers were. I loved going to stay with my dad. He would always make me my favourite dinners and he would go out and buy me new clothes. I would always debate with my friends that my daddy was the best daddy in the world. I'd hate going back to my mum's on the Sunday, not because I hated her--I loved her so much--but I just didn't like the things she did. She was a compulsive shoplifter and she always sniffed glue in front of me and my brothers. The house always had a strong smell of glue as soon as you walked through the garden. I remember having to tell my friends that our coffee table broke, or something like that, but awhile after, the whole estate knew. They would always call me a glue sniffer at school and at home.

My mum was referred to a mental institute until she was better, so I had to move in with my dad. My brothers were put in care. This destroyed me. I was heartbroken, but deep down I knew it was for the best. It was the only way she would get better. So I packed my bags and Social Services dropped me off at my dad's. This was the most horrible part. My brothers were seated in the back of the car. I can still hear my youngest brother screaming my name, begging me not to leave him. I wish I never did.

My dad already had a wife and two little boys, which were my step-brothers. He lived in a beautiful house. I remember first seeing my bedroom. It was everything I always wanted my bedroom to look like. I felt like a normal child now, and was much happier. I just missed my family so much.

My dad's wife, well . . . my step-mom, had a really bad case of epilepsy. She would 'fit' mostly every day. I grew closer and closer to this lifestyle and began to almost love it, living with my dad, but never forgetting about my mum and other brothers. I would call them once a week. They would always sound traumatized, but all I could ever do was tell them I love them, and then I would have to put the phone down before I burst into tears. I couldn't listen to their little helpless voices.

After living there a couple of months, my dad would come into my bedroom at night and give me a kiss goodnight and tell me sweet dreams, but sometimes he'd sit in my chair and watch me go to sleep and read me a bedtime story. He made me feel so special. I'd never been read a bedtime story before. He would read me fairy tales, and they always had the perfect story to them, with the princess and the prince and they'd have the perfect ending. And from that moment, I always dreamt of the perfect ending and being that princess, cause that's how he made me feel, like a princess instead of the glue sniffer.

But then, every night, he would start to sleep in my bed. He started giving me massages and he would put his hands all over my body in places he shouldn't have. But I never did [think] about it, because between me and Daddy it was just a massage. But it was becoming an obsession. He always had to touch me or tell me he loved me. I never doubted that he didn't love me, that was the problem, he loved me too much. He loved me in a different way than a father and daughter way. He treated me more like his wife. His wife [never gave him] attention, so he would get it off me.

My mum came home from hospital, but my dad got full custody over me. This is the point where my life was no longer a fairy tale. I was no longer a princess. He still thought I was, but I didn't feel like one anymore. And the worst time of it all was this one Christmas. All the stress with my step-mom having epilepsy and with him having to work every night through the week, it just all built [up] on top of him. He had too many responsibilities to take care of and he was in a lot of debt. I think he just took all this out on me. He started to become aggressive towards me if I ever mentioned boys. I was 13 at this time, and I became interested in boys. He hated it. If I was seen with a boy, he would just lock me in my bedroom until I learnt my lesson. He started to read all my text messages. I wasn't allowed to delete my messages without him looking at them first and checking if they were suitable. He was always in a mood. My life became miserable again. I just wanted my mum back. I missed them [my mum and brothers] so much I couldn't stand it. I gave in.

From then on, I would lay in my bed, waiting to hear my daddy's footsteps on his way to my bedroom. I felt like a prostitute because he was only ever happy when he was touching me or doing things to me and I think this is why I let him do it because it made him happy.

It got to Christmas day. I had everything I asked for, but I still wasn't happy, so I just opened my presents, ate my dinner and laid in my bed waiting for him, thinking about what he would do to me tonight.

I woke up in pain. There was blood all over my bed. My dad was [sitting] on top of me, grinning at me. I hated him. I felt so sick and dirty. He turned round and said, "I ain't made no one bleed in 20 years." He must have been drinking that night, but all I know is that it was the Christmas day of my life.

Now I'm 15. I'm getting on with my life. I live with my auntie. My mum's . . . a lot better. She still shoplifts though, but I love her no matter what she does. I took my dad to court over all this, and he pleaded guilty, which was a big relief for me. I'll never have to see him again. But no matter what he did, he will always be my dad, and I just have to except him for what he is. But I don't have to live with him.


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References

NOTE: Information pages on this site were based on material from the
Canadian Red CrossCanadian Red Cross RespectED Training Program. Written permission was obtained to use their copyrighted material on this site.


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Child abuse story from Jodie was re-formatted June 2, 2015




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