THIS S I L E N C E ENDS NOW.
What has been done unto me, will be silenced no more.
I need to get this off my chest.
It has taken me years to get to a place where I feel safe enough to write these words. These are by the far the hardest that I've ever had to write, but now that I have children of my own their innocence gives me the strength to speak up and share what has happened to me. I hope my story can help others speak up who have been too afraid or ashamed to share in the past. No longer will I sit in silence letting these memories eat me up inside. If I can protect just one person from the abuse I suffered, then all of the pain will be worth it.
Let me start off by saying I'm not here to call out people and name the people who abused me. Karma takes care of that for me. I have spent enough time thinking about hurting those who hurt me. But what does that prove?
That I am no better than they are!
Hurting someone needlessly is an act of weakness, not strength.
No, I am here to heal, to share, and to support others who may feel like they are dealing with their own sexual abuses all alone.
You are not alone!
You are so much stronger than you can even imagine!
You are capable of healing!
You are loved!
You deserve to be loved in a caring and respectful way!
Growing up I had a wonderful early childhood.
My family didn't have very much money and we moved around a lot but as a child it didn't matter that much to me. Playing outside, riding bikes, and soaking up the sunshine with my sister was what was important to me.
At a young age I became fascinated with ballet, theatre, and performing arts. Determined that I would become the next prima ballerina I begged my mom to enroll me in a dance school. Despite it being a stretch financially they could see my passion for dance. I loved ballet. It made my soul sing. I loved the colorful tutu's, the beautiful costumes, and the grace of the older dancers twirling around on pointe. It all seemed like magic to me.
I just wanted to be part of that world so badly.
That is, until I turned 8 years old. I went from a Montessori school to a public school for the first time. That change might not have been so dramatic if my classmates had been different, who knows?
In public school I stuck out like a sore thumb.
I remember getting in trouble the first day of school for getting up to go to the bathroom during class. It didn't make sense to me that you had to ask to use the bathroom. I had always been trusted to take care of my own body. I thought to myself, “Where else would I be going?” Unfortunately that first day of school would not be the end of my bathroom torment.
Puberty was hitting us gals hard.
Looking back on it all I wish I could just tell myself,
"Who cares what she thinks!”
“You are beautiful just the way you are!"
She was being mean to me because she was jealous. But I considered her more beautiful than I was. She was so exotic and tan compared to my white flesh. She was different, like I was but somehow I thought her kind of different was so much better than mine. I felt all alone, even though she was my "best friend" at school. As my chest blossomed so did her jealously. She started to bully and verbally rip apart another A-Cup girl like myself. I felt her turning on me. I didn't want her to bully me too so I went into hiding.
Okay not literally. I hid my body and started wearing baggy shirts and sweatpants all the time. Hoping and praying she wouldn't notice my growing chest I clung on terrorized by this beautiful nightmare.
Meanwhile what feels like every time I needed to go pee at school I am cornered, bullied, and verbally harassed in my bathroom stall.
These two girls had it out for me. I was painfully shy already so even the thought of someone peeping in between the cracks of the stall was mortifying enough, but oh no, these two took it to the next level.
Standing on each toilet of the opposite stalls these bullies surrounded me with their peering eyes and creepy comments like "nice ass" which was a lot for a kid straight out of a completely different world. My bubble had been shattered. Day after day I dreaded having to go to the bathroom.
Trying to seek refuge I would pick the last stall so at least I would have one side of privacy while I looked up terrified that any minute their eyes would POP up!
Waiting, staring, taunting and terrifying me.
I stopped going to the bathroom at school.
The walks back from school became long enough to feel like torture as I continued to hold it.
Don't forget.
I'm still doing ballet and since puberty has hit I have put on a little bit of weight. I am really serious about ballet, still following my dream of becoming a prima ballerina! After years of performing Nutcracker, Peter Pan, and other various seasonal shows I was picked to do my own solo performance. My dance teacher whom I loved and admired like a mother, danced with me.
Her belief in me kept me going. Our "Mother, Daughter" dance moved the crowd to tears. I remember feeling so alive in that moment like
"I was born for this!" Soon I was paying for such an electric performance.
Yet another "friend", a girl I met in ballet class had started to bully me about my recent weight gain calling me a "fatty" and a "lard ass" talking about how my butt jiggled when I walked during our ballet class.
I was already embarrassed enough having to squeeze into my snug leotard and tights in the changing room. At that point things escalated to a whole other level leaving me contemplating suicide.
This friend of mine was 'fancy', they lived on the lake in this big house with a boat and bbq's, an entire room just filled with awesome toys, and plenty of summer fun. Or so I thought at first.
This one is a tough memory to write about because it hits so damn close to home. Everything is so connected, now as I piece these repressed memories together 19 years later.
Our moms were friends and they loved chatting so we would go over to their house often. Seemed like at least once a week. During that time the older neighbor boy took a liking to us girls and after going swimming we were upstairs in her mom's bathroom getting ready to wash up.
The neighbor boy burst in the door right as we had taken off our stinky lake suits and were hopping into a huge bathtub filled with fun bubbles.
Snapping pics in between our screams of protest "get out creep!"
Finally after about a dozen or so nude photographs are captured he leaves.
But no hold on, it gets worse.
Sleepover nights with that friend become a barrage of unwanted late night games of "playing doctor".
I couldn't take it anymore.
My own "best friend" bullied and molested me
(all of this on top of being sexually harassed and bullied at my new school!)
I quit ballet.
Made up some lame ass excuse and quit.
Threw it all away, years of practice and training.
I needed to escape at least one bully in my life.
I didn't feel like I had any choice.
Finally after what feels like a century, the year of terror ends and I beg my mom to put me back in Montessori. Thankfully back at my old Montessori school I have a moment of calm from dealing with a bunch of sexual abuse at school. Sadly, because of what had happened to me I have a really hard time making new friends. I just couldn't trust anyone. I didn't want anyone close to me.
I graduated from sixth grade feeling lonelier than ever, dreading what I knew was about to come.
Seventh grade. A new school...a public school. My worst nightmare was coming true again and this time their was no where to hide. No more Montessori. (With only a few Montessori schools back then, they only went to 6th grade)
Time to face my demons again.
Deep breath.
A moment of calm and for a minute there I'm invisible.
Everyone has already made friends with each other in 6th grade and no one wants to hang out with me. Which is okay for a little bit but it gets kinda lonely after a while.
I finally make a friend and we are best buds! Going to the mall, watching movies together, laughing, giggling, and having a great time together.
Without this friend I wouldn't have known how to let happiness and love into my heart again. I know we haven't talked in a while but I want to thank you.
Your friendship and kindness in my time of darkness saved me.
But even during times of light,
darkness still found me... this time during the bus ride home.
Deep down, I was still depressed and I wanted to be away from everyone and honestly just be left alone. This guy in my grade started getting really pushy and weird about sitting next to me. He insisted on sitting by the window and as I stand up to protest he pushes me down and rubs his crotch in my face, he sits down, looks out the window, then looks back at me with a look that would have turned water into ice. At this point everyone's getting in the bus, it's loud and chaotic...EVERY DAY he would seize his perfect moment to strike.
I rode in fear.
I was so painfully shy and honestly terrified of what this boy (a major bully) would do to me if he found out I reported him to anyone.
Coming from Montessori school we didn't have much of these kinds of issues so I did not know how to respond.
Instead I let my silence wash over me while I suffered the daily grind.
Eighth grade.
At this point I'm so scared and confused about what love is.
Despite moving all around town I've been madly in live with a childhood friend and finally I get the chance to go to the same school.
Sadly because of all that has happened, I have all of this rage pent up inside of me. One day during a silly game of kickball I explode like a volcano, in a fit of rage I unleash all sorts of swear words and my friend floats away from me forever.
After that day I've come to realize the true stinging power of the silent treatment. As far as he was concerned I was invisible and as he looked through me, not at me! I lost hold of one of the rare feelings of love in my childhood.
He was one of the only constant joys in my life. If we were hanging out everything was groovy. Running around in the rain, playing tag amongst the plants in the garden, dripping paint all over my head as we paint your little play house. I can still feel the tears running down my cheeks after getting off the phone for the last time. You didn't want to be friends anymore.
You were my rock, someone who knew me before all of this abuse happened.
I had never felt more alone.
My depression worsens and I can't imagine what is about to happen in high school. Images on the TV tell me that all the girls wear high heels and looks much older than they are. I have my first day of school outfit picked out months in advance. A grey off the shoulder long sleeve shirt, skinny jeans, and a pair a red semi high heels. I felt so grown up, so mature, and yes finally so exotic and beautiful.
I soon discover that actually pretty much no one wears high heels to school unless you are going to a dance. Oh so awkward. Thankfully my mom has literally forced me to do a sport and although I'm not into sports I really love to swim. (Thank you Mom!) Having the supportive comments from the older teammates really helped me overcome my paralyzing first day of school fear.
Picture this, its freshman year.
The first day of school and I'm late to class after lunch because,
well I'm not really sure where my class is.
I don't have time to change as I burst through the door to my weight training class. It's warm up time and everyone's doing push ups. Without a word, high heels and all I join in, digging deep, cuz even though I'm a girl I want them to know
I belong here.
What coach says next warns my heart to this day "Oh come on boys, this girl just showed up and she can do push ups better than half of yah AND SHE’S WEARING HIGH HEELS!"
Even though I felt silly wearing those stupid shoes all day,
it was all worth it for that one moment.
I am a strong women and that day I discovered my hidden power.
Through the greatest times of darkness my light still finds a way to shine.
I'm focused on school and swimming and soon it's my sophomore year.
Thanks to my moms initial push, I've realized how much I love swimming and being focused on that helps immensely with my depression. My swim coach rocks and is a serious influence on me finding my inner and outer strength.
I will soon need every ounce of that very thing.
Evil takes on many different forms along this journey.
He's my first "real official highschool boyfriend" and I'm really excited.
At the time all the girls in my close circle were obsessed with him and I felt honored that out of everyone he chose me.
Soon I would regret that very thought.
Quickly things started to unravel, sexually he was all pent up,
his mom went on every date with us, she was always there.
I'm still a virgin at this point but the sharks are circling in the water,
and boy oh boy do they smell blood.
Now I need to take a moment.
I've been scared shitless to share this next part of my story for years.
Silently suffering and distancing myself from my quite large family.
I'm not afraid of what everyone will think.
I regret not protecting my other family members.
What happened to me was not okay and has taken me so long to stop blaming myself for what happened, finally to get it out and more forward in my healing work.
The Internet played its part in helping along this next development as I sped closer to my sweet sixteen. I had started chatting with an older family member on aim and soon things got sexual. I was seduced by the draw of being something that I wasn't through the Internet, I pretended like I was actually "cool" enough to have been to a couple party's (soo not true!) and things escalated from there. It seemed innocent at the time, he wasn't really touching me so I felt safe sitting at home and yeah eventually turned on. No one had ever talked to me like that and even though I wasn't attracted to my family member it felt nice to capture someone's attention. I just wanted to be loved. My family was falling apart, and as my parents turned on each other I tried to deal with that, all the while adding another huge load of baggage of my own. This family member was staying with my grandparents and my sister and I consistently spent the night during the weekends.
He would often say "it's okay, we're not actually related" but even so I was not ready for what was about to come.
First was the aim conversations, then he'd pin me down or pull me into him on the couch for a kiss. At first that was all it was, a tease.
Lots of talk, some kissing and then the finale.
He had been talking a lot about how he couldn't take away my virginity.
I knew he wanted me badly but would not do anything until I wasn't a virgin.
One night after staying out late at a party he came home, took a shower and then came into my room.
More kissing.
"Take off your panties" he demands
Not happening. I just started my period and my panty liner is my only protection as he pulls me on top of him. He's kissing me and then putting something in my hand, suddenly with disgust I realize why it's growing. I had never even touched a penis before and was instantly revolted. His hands are everywhere and as his fingers find my panty liner and starts stroking, I shut down. All of my blood runs cold, thankfully my flight response kicks in and I am able to scramble away.
(Thank you for not chasing me down. I think you knew what you were doing was wrong but couldn’t help yourself because of what trauma was going on in your life. Know this, I forgive you)
Now don't forget I have a super sexual boyfriend constantly being repressed by his mother presence around us. It's summertime. He has his parents house to himself and he wants me to come over. My parents are away at a concert but thanks to aim I am able to get ahold of my family member (actively molesting me) to drive me over to my boyfriends house. I tell my sister I'm going for a walk and I get dropped off. I can still remember exactly what I was wearing.
A t-shirt, jeans, and sandals, nothing scandalous.
He leads me through the dark house from the back door to his bedroom.
This is not what I pictured for such a sacred event.
My boyfriend tells me to "take off my pants and get on top". It hurts!
I say stop, instead he goes harder and a knife from his headboard falls on his head.
No romance, no candles, no passion or pleasure.
In less then 15 minutes I'm calling my family member to come pick me up again. During the ride home my family member taunts me about how quick that was, and tells me how he could satisfy me, obviously unlike my boyfriend.
My sisters mad at me when I get home, my walk was too long. I take a shower because I've been told to do so by my boyfriend. I don't realize the gravity of the situation right away. None of my close friends had lost their virginity, so I thought it happened like that for everyone. I had said yes initially to what my boyfriend was doing, my consent ended when he started to hurt me and did not stop. It isn't until senior year that I realize I had been raped.
Junior year I fall in love with someone who is not mine and I suffer the consequences. It's been years and I finally feel that warm fuzzy kind of love and am willing to see past all sorts of flaws in a person and situation that was not good for me. Yet again I can't go to the bathroom alone anymore because some older girls are "protecting" their friend. They've started pushing me around in the bathrooms, in the hallways, going to and from the parking lot and anywhere else they could at school. My body is constantly covered in bruises.
It gets worse as things at home are in shambles.
He quickly cheats on me and I spend all summer laying in bed dead to the world. I don't want to move, I'm crushed and I can't take it anymore.
I'm numb. A zombie shell of a girl I used to be.
Where is the love?
I focus on getting out of this "small ass town"
I enjoy my senior year.
I've reinvented myself.
I fail math class the first half of the year and because of extra credits, I get to have 3 art classes. My art teacher rocks and boosts my confidence even more.
I relax.
I find an older guy (not from high school) that I'm really into. He protects me and shows great concern when this family member (who I've finally shared with someone has abused me) wants to hang out my more and more with other younger family members.
I start healing.
I go to off college.
I face my demons.
I try to drown them.
Not able to cope with my madness, I leave my boyfriend behind.
I get used to the idea of being alone.
And then my high school crush asks me out on a date.
From those first nervous moments we blend together. Talking for hours, music's playing but I'm not really listening, our accents come out. I feel so comfortable.
I welcome him into my home and slowly into my heart.
We date and move in together.
I graduate college.
He ask for my hand in marriage, I say yes and we are engaged.
We have kids together.
I start to pursue another life long dream of being a Montessori teacher.
It's been years since I've had to deal with any sort of serious sexual harassment but then suddenly it's all happening again.
I very strongly believe that if you have been sexually abused you become venerable to this kind of trauma and it is easy to suffer the same abuses over and over again. It isn't easy work because during this time we must go to the root of our suffering in order to start to healing and realign with our true selves.
I am doing my thing.
I love being a teacher.
In only a year I've been promoted from assistant to lead teacher.
I've found my passion again through Infant Montessori but soon my perfect world is shattered. I'd known my boss since I was little but it wasn't her that was the problem. It was her husband. He starts showing up to my classroom every day. Trapping me and talking with me while I'm trying to do my job taking care of 13 kiddos under the age of 3. These constant distractions became a everyday struggle.
Then the comments start.
I'm wearing my favorite maternity dress.
Bending over a small sensory table I am starting my day in the classroom, helping the children explore our latest sensory experience. Parents are dropping off their kids and helping them remove and put away their boots and coats.
My assistant teacher is an arms length away, reading stories to a couple other students in the reading corner
He opens the door to the classroom.
Wide eyed I stand straight up, knowing he would enjoy the view all too much. His hungry eyes ready to eat me up finally drift upwards.
"Oh, don't get up on account of me!"
He proceeds to stay during the entire class period and peer at my chest some more as he towers over me while I attempt to help my little friends. Trapped in my classroom I have no where to hide. So many thoughts are running through my head. “What the hell! I'm an adult now, this should not be happening at my work of all places!” I'm sick of being treated like this, he stares longingly at my cleavage and I catch his eyes with mine and look into his very soul with a hatred that comes from years of abuse. I have everything set up to get a scholarship for my Montessori Certification. That Monday morning I'm struck with cramps so badly I nearly fall to the floor when they wash over me.
I couldn't take it anymore!
Every day I had suffered but now I was pregnant with a daughter.
I had to protect her.
I had to get away from him.
He wasn't going to stop.
He had done this before.
It was only going to get worse.
I had to leave.
Once again I gave up on my dream, but this time it was to protect my daughter.
Every day I struggle with these memories.
I've spent the last four years driving past the house where I was raped.
I've tried to drown my sorrows and I've stared them soberly down.
My children have saved me and shown me how strong I really am.
To all of those sitting in silence letting it eat you up, just let it out.
Write it down.
Talk about it.
Get that shit out!
Cry your eyes out!
Feel it for a final moment, let it have power, be afraid,
focus on your breathe, then take back your power!
You are alive!
Spread your love
Follow your dreams
Never give up
You are the change!
A note to my abusers, you know who you are...
I forgive you.
I know something bad must have happened to you too.
I love you, you can't rush your healing but talking to someone you trust sure does help :)
This took me 11 years to write, don't make the same mistake that I did!
If something bad is happening to you, SPEAK UP!
You are not alone.
If you don't have anyone you can trust to talk to, try chatting with me @
[email protected]
Authors Note:
I found this video after finally drafting up my post. It moved me to tears and spoke to my soul, I think it is something that needs to be shared.
THE QUOTES THAT TOUCHED MY HEART
“Depression comes as a gift asking that a woman recognize her own substance and trust it as the quiet, steady voice of her own truth. As she trusts it, hearkens to it, attends as it unfolds, she learns that of herself never allowed to develop when her allegiance was with the collective…”
“Depression serves a woman is it presses down on her, forcing her to leave behind that which was not herself, which had influenced her to live a life alien to her own nature. Her suffering, now substantial, insists that she no longer deny its truth. "
“For through her descent, she touches the power of the feminine, the power that comes of being, not doing… the power of wisdom in the face of a very old woman, a face on which one reads, ‘I know what I know.’
“A woman through her descent, touches a deeply feminine authority, as different from the authority of the masculine as is the moon from the sun.
“It is an authority not of abstracted, rational, objective knowledge, but an authority which allows her to speak from her own unique experiencing of life, from her own deepest personal conviction.
http://www.mysticmamma.com/the-descent-in-the-feminine-process/
THE VIDEO
The gift of depression aka the Feminine Descent by Stephanie Lin
To all of those reading this, Thank you!
Thank you for holding this space for me to share without shame or fear of judgement.
I love and appreciate you
Our time is now.
No more playing small!
We can no longer stay silent.
Peace, Love and Light
-Mama Bear