my life changed drastically when I was 8 years old. Up till then, I basically didn’t exist in my fathers eyes. I don’t know what made him think of me, or take notice of me but for some reason that I’ll never get an answer to, he did. It was in the summer. Saturday morning, I was laying on the living room floor on my tummy propped up on pillows eating a bowl of cereal watching cartoons. We didn’t have any air conditioning and most of our windows didn’t open. I was just wearing a bathing suit. It was bikini style. My dad woke up and came out into the living room. He sat down on the floor behind me and began rubbing my back. I didn’t know why he was doing this, but he was actually paying attention to me, and the touch felt wonderful. I guess my intuition and red flags should have gone up, but sadly they didn’t.
The next weekend was just as hot. Once again I was laying on the living room floor propped up on pillows watching cartoons. Dad came out of his room again, and once more sat down behind me. This time, I was wearing a tank top and a pair of shorty shorts. My dad started rubbing my back again, but this time he had some sort of lotion or oil on his hands. He told me to take off my tank top so he could get my back better. It felt good and I complied. His hands felt so good on my back. I absolutely loved the attention, until dads hand went down my shorts. I looked at him, and he said oops and started rubbing my back again. His hands went lower and lower till they were on my butt. He pulled the waistband of my shorts and took them off me. I was so shocked that I didn’t know what to say or do. He started massaging my butt, legs and feet. It was weird, but I didn’t say anything. Then he made me roll over so I was laying on my back, and started rubbing my front. It felt wrong for some reason but he was my dad. He wouldn’t hurt me. I lay there completely still, and was confused when he pushed my legs apart. All of a sudden, his finger was in me, and there was horrible pain. When he was done, he told me that mom and I would die if I said anything about what happened to anyone.
I don’t remember if it was the next weekend or when it was, but one morning, he told me to come in his and moms bedroom. The abuse only happened on the weekends or at night when my mom was working. Anyway, I walked into their room and he told me he had a surprise for me but I had to take off my Jammie’s to get it. I was excited, and like an idiot, off they came. He told me to sit on the bed and open my mouth. I excitedly did so, and the next thing I knew I couldn’t breathe. My eyes flew open, and met a mass of pubic hair. It was the first time I’d seen a man naked, and his penis scared the shit out of me! He pushed it in and out until he went straight stiff, and nasty tasting goo came out of him. I threw up all over him, and was made to change the sheets.
It was just one day after that that dad called me into their room again. I remember bawling my eyes out, cause yesterday was so awful. My dad reassured me that this time was TOTALLY different. He made me strip again, and got really angry when I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be in big trouble, so I did it again. Dad made me lay down on the bed and spread my legs. I looked out the windows because every time dad made me get naked there was always pain. Dad put his head between my legs and started tickling me. I was prepared for pain, and thankfully for once it was actually ok. It felt good. It was creepy having his eyes stare at me though. I don’t know how long or what made him stop but he did.
Next time anything happened, dad called me into his room again. I went honestly happily because last time felt good. He had me strip, and lay on the bed again. Had me open my legs, Then he climbed on top of me and said he was gonna make me feel REAL good this time. As awful as it sounds, I was actually kinda excited. He rubbed his penis on my vag a few times before sticking it in. I screamed, which looking back was a bad idea. He jammed it in and out for what seemed like forever. It was like he was punishing me for something I didn’t even know I did. Finally, just like last time his whole body went stiff, and this time he made a really scary sound. When he got off me, he told me to get up, but he said it really mean. He made me stand in the tub, and told me a story about hookers and how they had a special thing they did when they were done with their “tricks “. He said that they put a bottle of coke up inside them and that kept them from getting pregnant. We didn’t have any coke at our house though, so dad grabbed the next best thing . I don’t know why, I was only 8 and had never gotten my period. Anyway, dad came back in the bathroom from the kitchen. He knelt down in front of me and made me stand with a foot up on the side of the tub. He had some sugar packets in his hands. He opened them, poured the sugar in his hand and licked a couple fingers. He rubbed his fingers in the sugar and stuffed them up into me. He did this repeatedly till all the sugar was gone. He wouldn’t let me take a shower even though I was bleeding, so I got dressed and went to bed.
During the rest of my 8th year, the abuse happened many times. Knowing that he could get away with it, my dad had sex with me every chance he got. He introduced me to all sorts of sexual things from anal, to lingerie, to sexy stripping and dancing, to pornography, to “toys”, bondage, whips and chains, vegetables... you name it, he did or made me do it. He even used a beer bottle to have sex with me. Weird as it sounds, the bottom of the bottle was actually easier to deal with than the neck because he didn’t drink beer, only mom did so the bottle would be unopened when he used it on me. The cap digging into the sides of both my orifices was pure hell. I figured out that when it was going to be something particularly painful that he’d tie me to the bed so I couldn’t get away. He would take me to sex stores and parade me slowly down the aisles explaining what everything was and how he was going to buy that “for us“, and exactly how we’d use it. I always cried at the cash registers at those stores, but none of the checkers paid any attention to me. Of course, sugar doesn’t prevent pregnancy and I got pregnant at least 3 times. Once when I was 12, my body naturally expelled that one. Once when I was 16, and I had to lay on their bed watching out the window, praying for a bird, or butterfly or something anything to take me away, while he used a wire coat hanger on me to “get rid” of the baby. I lost the baby that night. As awful as it is to admit, it was still small enough to flush down the toilet. The last baby was when I was 19. This one actually took, and he is a big, beautiful baby boy that is now 17.
The last time anything happened, my baby was only 2weeks old. He was laying in his bassinet and I was watching him sleep. my father came up behind me and tried to have sex with me in front of my baby. That was the last straw. I couldn’t stand up for myself, but I could for my son. I packed the baby’s things and as much of my stuff as I could fit into my truck and drove to the sanctuary of my friends house. She, the baby and I all had to share a room, and I started having nightmares every night and talking in my sleep. I think because I was finally safe enough to process what happened. My friend convinced me (after doing it a not so nice way), to go to the police.
My father was sentenced to 2.5-15 years, and served 6.5 years. I never forgot what happened to me. In fact, it haunts me all day every day. I turned my anger about what happened inward and unfortunately even to this day, I self injure. I’ve been suicidal more times than I can count, and I have no idea how I’m still alive. I’ve taken enough pharmecutical medications to kill a horse, cut veins and arteries, tried to hang myself but the belt broke, antifreeze.... you name it I’ve tried it. I’ve been in therapy for 15ish years, and can’t get any of them to help me deal with this. I don’t know, I guess I’m just hoping that my anxiety will go down and I can sleep more soundly tonight.
My bffs and bf helped me!! My mom knows now... My sister was never hurt! Mom will decide what to do!
Why Being Sexually Abused is Not Our Fault There are three reasons why sexual abuse is not our fault. First Reason: The abuser is a predator/hunter. They use every trick to lure us in. (Feel free to add to this.) The most common tricks are: Threats: They threaten us or some one or thing that we care about. Gifts: They give us things and shame us into submission. Needs: They use the fact that we...