Child Abuse Story From Lighthouse
by Lighthouse
(San Antonio, Texas, USA)
I am 36 years old and I am a victim of child abuse. Not only physically, emotionally and mentally, but also sexually. My abuse started when I was adopted at the age of 5 years old and continued until I was about 16. Here is my story.
One night, when I was 5 just getting familiarized with my new family, my mom decided to go play bingo with my grandma, leaving me and my two step sisters with my dad. We lived in an efficiency apartment that had one room, bathroom and kitchen for a family of five. Pretty small.
That night I woke up to go to the bathroom and my dad is sitting in bed watching TV. He tells me that I looked sick and that he needed to check me. I told him that I was fine and tired just wanted to go back to bed. He would say that he knew what to do to make me feel better. Next thing I know he was laying me down on the bed. He kept telling me that he was going to be my doctor and that I couldn't tell Mom. He started touching me over my panties, then would grab my hand to caress his privates. I started crying when he started taking off my panties. What happened next should have never happened to a child. He started kissing my privates then he placed his fingers inside me. I kept telling him to stop because I was going to tell Mom, and he finished right as he saw the lights to my mom's car pull up the driveway. Then he tucked me into bed like nothing happened.
The next day I knew that it was ok to tell someone because I was raised by foster parents who taught me not to be afraid and that if anyone hurt me to tell someone. So I ran to my mom and I told her everything that happened. She confronted him and he raised hell, started breaking things in the house, calling me every name in the book. He said that I didn't know what I was talking about; and the sad thing was that my mom believed him. Ever since that day it became a habit, almost every other day or night, he would walk over to my bed and feel all over me. When I would take my showers he would get the wash cloth and bathe me, touching me all over.
The sexual abuse didn't stop with him: My grandpa, and I had three uncles that somehow got a kick out of molesting me. No one believed me.
Growing up as a teenager things only got worse. My dad would see me coming into a room and he would have his pants down, playing with himself making these sexual moans toward me. My uncles would grab me and kiss me, feeling my body. I had one uncle that literally almost raped me, and I cried for help but no one would listen to me. So finally I gave up, what happened happened. I just came to the conclusion that since I wasn't blood to these people it didn't matter that I was being hurt. I held all this in until I finally ran away from home at the age of 18.
Still today I live the painful memories of my childhood. It wasn't only sexual, but physical, emotional, and mental. I still call these people Mom and Dad and I still talk to them. I can't forgive him and the others for what they have done to me, but I am trying to forget.
I now have children of my own and thank god that they are all boys, because I do believe that if I were to have had a girl and someone were to have done to her what was done to me I would have killed that person no matter what the cost.
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