The first time I remember being victimized was in the 8th grade. During the summer before I started 8th grade, my body started changing. I was the first girl in my class to develop breasts. I was mortified and tried to think of ways to hide them but it was an impossible task. I remember sitting in Science class one day. We had assigned seats and my seat was in the back of the room. I was pretty much surrounded by boys but didn't really think much about it. On this particular day, the teacher put on a filmstrip for us to watch. He cut the lights and left the room. Immediately hands started groping me from in front, behind, and the sides. I felt hands on my breasts, my legs... just grabbing, grabbing. I was smacking hands away, telling them to stop it and the class was laughing at me.
The teacher must have heard the commotion because he came back in and asked what was going on. I told him with tears streaming down. He chastised the boys and moved me to the front of the class right in front of his desk. Several times I caught him staring at my breasts or trying to look up my skirt. I felt helpless and was filled with shame.
The next incident happened that same year. We were practicing for a play/talent show up on the stage in the auditorium. The teacher left us for a few moments to go and get something from the supply closet. Suddenly the lights went out. Hands were on me and I was pushed to the floor. I was kicking and crying out. It was only a few minutes but it seemed like hours.I remember feeling so scared. The lights came back on and the boys dispersed. I told the teacher what happened. He chuckled and said "Boys will be boys". That was the end of it. They received no consequences.
Not long after this, the sexual abuse started at home. It is still too painful to really talk about.When someone you love and trust with all of your heart starts abusing you, it takes a toll that is really indescribable. But it continued for 6 years until I left home at the age of 18. I was always the quiet, shy child in our home...the perfect victim. I was the peacemaker as well, so the last thing I wanted to do was cause a divorce or cause someone to get arrested in my family. Besides, deep down I thought I must be bringing all of it on myself with my newly developing body. I began reading my Bible for comfort and hope. I found Psalms to be particularly comforting. I never felt that God had left me. I always felt his presence protecting me ... even during the abuse. I always had a feeling I would be able to use the abuse for good one day and help others who were suffering the same. So for most of those years it remained a secret other than a few that I confided in.
I did learn, however, to escape during the actual abuse. I learned how to leave my body and go to a peaceful place. For me, it was always the ocean. As unwanted touches were invading me, I was walking on the beach. I could feel the breeze. I could hear the seagulls and smell the saltwater. I could hear children laughing as they were building their sandcastles. This escape is what got me through those 6 years.I remember times where I thought of running away, but the fear of being alone in a strange place was greater than the fear of what I had come to face each day. Neither did I want to leave my little sister for fear the same thing would happen to her. Other times I became so angry I wanted to kill my abuser and even tried to think of ways to do it.
But I survived until I turned 18 and left home to go to college. I felt free. Little did I know that I was anything but free. The scars ran deep and would affect me for the rest of my life in ways I would never have imagined. I have a hole in my heart that is still trying to mend.
Through all of the incidents I described, I don't remember a lot of details. I mostly remember what I felt. I felt fear, shame, anger, guilt. In the attacks that happened at school, I don't remember the people who did it. I just remember they sat close to me in the classroom and were helping set up the play/talent show in the auditorium. I do remember the teacher. In the case of the abuse at home, I remember well the abuser but very little details about the abuse itself other than the feelings. I guess part of this is because I would escape in my mind when it happened. I remember feeling helpless, scared, angry, and filled with so much shame. I felt abnormal. I felt like some kind of freak. More than anything I wanted to feel normal. Feeling normal, however, was impossible because it affected me in every area of my life from having friends over to being hypervigilant about never being left alone with the abuser.
As for the Kavanaugh hearings, was Christine Blasey Ford telling the truth? Time will tell. I felt there was truth in her story but felt there was a lot that made no sense. I also felt there was truth in his story. Perhaps there is a grain of truth in both of their stories.
When I think of those boys pushing me to the ground and touching me all over, I don't think they wanted to rape me. But I was still scared because I still felt helpless just like I would have if they wanted to rape me. They were laughing just as Ford said her attacker was doing. Perhaps, if Brett Kavanaugh did push her onto the bed laughing, there was no intent on rape. Perhaps it was just a drunk acting like a power hungry idiot. Perhaps the truth lies in there somewhere. Hopefully the FBI will get to the truth. I hate to see lives ruined for no reason. I would also hate to think that either political party would use anyone to suit their own selfish agendas.
My final word on this is to anyone who is currently suffering sexual abuse. It is NOT your fault. You are a victim, plain and simple. Nobody has the right to touch your body if you do not want it touched. Nobody has the right to force you to do anything against your wishes. There is no manner of dress or body type that serves as an excuse for anyone to sexually assault you. Do not be afraid to report your abuse. The longer you keep your secret, the more it will harm you. By keeping it a secret you allow your abuser to continue to abuse you. Own your power and report it. It will be the greatest gift you ever give to yourself.
I know...
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